"Land ahead!"

At that cry the men came tumbling out of the foc'sle on to the for'ad deck of the Hawk, for it meant they were in sight of port at last. With luck, they would be paid off before many more hours had passed, the prize-money would be distributed—and then for a flare-up; a riotous, drunken orgy which would probably lead to three-fourths of their number finishing up in the police-cells. It would be a great night for the drink-shops of Singapore when Calamity's men, free from the iron discipline they had endured throughout the voyage, let themselves go.

So the men crowded against the bulwarks watching, with hungry eyes, the indistinct coast-line far away on the starboard bow. Even the most sullen and discontented among them dwelt in cheerful anticipation upon the glorious debauch in store. However, they were not permitted to dwell upon these delights undisturbed. In common with most captains, Calamity was accustomed to bring a ship into port looking like a new pin, with not so much as a smudge on the brasswork or a blemish on the white paint. So all hands were turned-to for the purpose of scouring, cleaning, and polishing. They worked with a will, for this would be practically their last day on board, even if the Hawk did not take up her moorings till the next morning. One of the men, a grizzled old shellback whose memories reached to the days of clippers and square-rigged ships, started to drone a chanty, popular enough in its day but now consigned to the limbo of masts and sails and salt junk. And this was the burden of his song:

There was a chorus between each line of "Blow boys, bully boys blow," which the others took up and yelled at the tops of their voices. In fact, the men were in such high spirits that, on the smallest provocation, they would have raised three cheers for the skipper—but the provocation was not given.

Calamity paced up and down the bridge, grim and taciturn as ever, his hands buried in the pockets of his monkey jacket. About a cable's length astern was the Satellite, with Mr. Dykes lolling on the bridge and making mental calculations as to the number of dollars that would fall to his share when the final settlement was made. Like their comrades on the Hawk, the crew was busy making the ship spick and span, nor were their anticipations less cheerful. Even the prisoners on both vessels were perking up at the prospect of being released from the hot and stifling quarters where they had spent so many weary days.

Perhaps the only gloomy members of the expedition were the Captain himself and Dora Fletcher. The latter was sitting in her cabin gazing thoughtfully out of the open port. Since that evening when Calamity had asked her to marry him and she had refused, he had not mentioned the subject again; his manner, indeed, seemed to indicate that he had dismissed the matter from his mind. With feminine inconsistency she now fervently wished that Smith had never told her the secret of the Captain's identity, for then everything would have been quite simple. Yet she tried to comfort herself with the thought that it was better as it was, better that she should know the truth before it was too late and she found herself faced by a situation with which, she assured herself, she was totally unfitted to grapple. Involuntarily the girl sighed. So this was to be the end of her one and only romance. Rightly or wrongly, she had rejected the love she desired above all else and the one man with whom she would have gladly mated.

Meanwhile the Hawk and her consort were drawing nearer to Singapore, and presently, in answer to a signal, a pilot-boat approached, and, standing off, lowered a boat which quickly came alongside the yacht. The pilot, a grizzled, weather-beaten man, scrambled out of the stern-sheets and climbed on board.

"Well I'm jiggered!" he exclaimed as the Captain stepped forward to greet him, "if it ain't Calamity."

"The same, Abott," answered the latter as they shook hands, for this was not the first time by a good many that the pilot had taken him into Singapore.

"But, bless my soul, skipper, this is the hooker that you wafted out of Singapore."

"It is," answered Calamity. "But come along to my cabin and have a drink, Abott. I'd like to have a little pow-wow with you."

Nothing loth, the pilot accompanied him to the cabin, where Calamity, after carefully locking the door, brought out a bottle and some glasses from a cupboard.

"The usual?" he inquired.

"Aye, skipper, my tastes ain't changed since we last met."

The Captain poured out a generous helping of brandy, which he handed to the pilot and then poured out a like dose for himself.

"Here's luck," said the other as he raised his glass.

Calamity nodded and tossed off his drink.

"What's the news?" he asked.

"About the war? Oh, nothing special, the Germans ain't took Paris, and we haven't burnt down Berlin. But say, skipper, what in thunder made you hike off with the old Arrow?"

"The what?" asked Calamity staring hard at the other.

"The Arrow, this old packet of Rossenbaum's."

The Captain made no answer for a moment and then a look of understanding came into his face.

"Oh, so the story is that I made off with Rossenbaum's ship?"

"You bet it is and there's a nice old shindy over it," answered the pilot. "Rossenbaum accused Solomon of having stolen his blooming steamer, and Solomon took his oath that you'd taken it unbeknownst to him."

"What you've told me explains a lot of things, Abott. The excellent Solomon's manoeuvres puzzled me from the start, but now I begin to see daylight. I'll have one or two little bones to pick with Isaac when I get ashore."

"Now, see here, skipper, jest you take my tip," said the other earnestly. "Don't put into Singapore. It ain't a healthy place for you, and that's a fact."

"Why not?"

"Why not! Well, you don't suppose a man can be accused of pinching some other party's ship and the authorities not say a word, do you?"

"You mean they're after me?"

"There's a warrant out for your arrest under the Piracy Act or something of that sort."

"H'm," grunted Calamity; "that's news."

"Now see here, skipper, we've known each other a tidy while, and you know I'm not the man to lead an old friend into a mess if I can help it. Take my advice and make for some other port; you may take your oath that I shan't say a word about having picked you up."

"Abott, you're a white man," answered Calamity, "but I'm not taking your advice, good as it sounds. Solomon has played his card, but I can trump it; he's absolutely in my hands, though he doesn't know it yet. Now we'll dismiss that subject for the present, and talk of something far more important. First of all, can you trust the men on your boat?"

"Trust 'em? Well, I should say so," answered the pilot in surprise.

"What I mean is, can they keep their mouths shut?"

"Like limpets."

"Right. Now just listen to this little yarn of mine, Abott, and don't interrupt before I'm through. Savee?"

"Forge ahead, skipper."

For close upon half an hour the Captain talked in lowered tones, and, as he proceeded, the pilot's face exhibited every degree of astonishment. Even when Calamity had finished he remained silent for some moments, as if unable to wholly realise what the latter had told him.

"Well I'm damned!" he muttered at last, and, taking a large blue handkerchief from his pocket, mopped his face.

"And now the question is, will you accept the proposal or not?" asked the Captain.

"I don't know that I've fairly got my teeth into it yet, skipper. It sort o' takes one's breath away, and that's a fact."

"I'm afraid I can't give you much time to think it over, Abott."

"By thunder, I'll take it on then!"

"I'm glad, because there's no other man I could trust," answered Calamity. "We'd better set to work and get the job over as quickly as possible."

"Wait, though," said the other. "This is the sort of thing that wants to be done at night. Suppose we sheer away from land a bit and don't put in till to-morrow morning?"

"That's not a bad idea. Your boat could come alongside after dark then?"

"Yes, but there's another thing to consider as well. How about the men? Can't you pay them off, prize-money and all, before we put in? You'll want to get rid of that crowd as soon as possible after the hook touches mud."

"It might be possible. Just lend me a hand, Abott."

With the pilot's assistance, all the boxes containing money, including the heavy box found in the fort, were dragged out into the middle of the cabin and opened.

"Before we count this you'd better tell the first-mate—a woman, by the way—to alter the course and signal the Satellite to do the same," said the Captain.

The pilot left the cabin, and when he returned Calamity had already started to count out the money. Even with the two of them at work it took a long time, and when it was finished and the values of the various currencies adjusted, Calamity made some hurried calculations on paper.

"I can offer each man about a hundred pounds in addition to wages due," he said at last.

"And a pretty fine bonus, too, for such a short trip! They won't jib at that offer, you bet your life. The sooner that deal's squared the better, I should say, skipper."

The Captain unlocked the cabin door, and, calling Sing-hi, told him to fetch the bos'n.

"I want you to make a proposal to the men," said Calamity, when the bos'n appeared. "In the ordinary way they might have to wait a week or more before they received the prize-money due to them, but, if they prefer it, I will pay each man a hundred pounds cash in addition to wages. They might get more by waiting till the stuff is valued and disposed of, but, if they prefer the cash, I will divide the balance among the various marine charities."

"I'm for the cash myself, sir, and I think the others'll be the same; but I'll tell them what you say," answered the bos'n.

"As for the officers and engineers," said Calamity when the bos'n had left the cabin, "they will have to wait until their shares can be properly adjudged."

"As long as we can get rid of the crew, they don't matter, skipper."

In a few minutes the bos'n returned and said that the men were unanimously in favour of taking the cash.

"Then assemble the men aft at eight bells, bos'n."

"Aye, aye, sir," answered the latter, and departed.

"Now," said Calamity, rising from his chair, "I'll signal Mr. Dykes to put the same proposal to his men."

He accordingly did this, and in a very short time received a message back to the effect that the men would prefer the cash payment.

At eight o'clock that evening the crew of the Hawk lined up aft to receive their money. As each man's name was called out by the bos'n, the owner of it stepped up to the little table where Calamity was seated and received in his hat the equivalent in money and notes of about a hundred and twenty pounds, prize-money and pay. When they had all been paid, a boat was lowered and the Captain went aboard the Satellite, where a similar distribution was made.

Later on that night, when it was quite dark, a boat approached the Hawk and made fast under her stern. Some cases and bags were lowered into her and then she slipped away into the darkness again.