Captain Brant, of the turbine steam yacht Cobra, walked the spotless deck of his vessel; and he walked slowly, for he was reading a letter which the postman had just brought on board. While he read his hideous features were twisted into the ape-like contortion that did duty with him for a grin. When he had mastered the contents of the missive, he thrust it into the pocket of his brass-buttoned reefer, and shouted for "Mr. Cheeseman."

An answering bawl was heard somewhere forward, and there came running aft the bullet-headed mate who a few days before had at first refused Travers Nugent admission to the ship.

"Know anything about ladies' underclothes?" asked the wicked-looking skipper, with a horrible leer.

"Can't say I do, sir; but if it's in the way of duty I can jolly soon find out," was the brisk reply.

"Yes, it's in the way of duty; and, by the same token, the need for the duds is a sign that we are soon to clear out of this beastly port," said the captain, scratching his chin. "I've heard from the boss—the chap that was here the other day—and it seems that when we start we're to pick up a lady passenger, who will be in too great a hurry to bring her trunks aboard. So we're to buy some things for her, here in Weymouth. I'll give you a ten-pound note, and you can go ashore straight away and buy what's necessary for a three weeks' voyage."

"Aye, aye, sir," replied the mate. "What about the size?"

"I forgot that," cackled Brant, and he referred to the letter. "My eyes! but she must be a strapping fine girl—five feet ten high, and well proportioned as to other dimensions. That means that she ain't too broad in the beam, but just broad enough, I reckon. And there's another thing, Bully, my boy."

"Sir to you."

"It was thought that the lady's own maid would go the voyage with her, but it seems there's a doubt about it. Orders are to engage a woman to act as stewardess and general attendant to the passenger, it being owner's wish to show her every consideration in reason. While you're ashore after the nighties and things, you're to look out a female to suit the situation. Age and character immaterial. Any old geezer with a bad record will do, so long as she's got a good muscle on her."

"Right-o!" responded the truculent-looking mate. "Seems like a kidnapping job, but that's no business o' mine."

"And you wouldn't be chief officer on this ship for long if you were fool enough to make it so," Brant piped in his squeaky treble. "Now get ashore with you, and be back inside two hours with the drapery and the woman. I can see by the letter I've had that we may get sailing orders any minute."

Cheeseman made a pretence of touching his cap, and vanished shoreward over the gangway. The Cobra was still tied up to the quay at Weymouth, her highly-paid crew of scoundrels chafing against the delay which deferred their promised reward, but by this time thoroughly cowed by the vessel's weird commander. There was not a man on her who dared leave the ship without permission or definite orders. The grog-shops in full view of "the sleeping snake," as they had dubbed the steamer, had no longer temptation for men who knew that if they yielded to it, retribution would be swift and sure. It was wiser, they argued amongst themselves, to observe discipline and reap a harvest of shekels when the Cobra's mission, whatever it might be, had been fulfilled. It was also the easier to keep them on board, since most of them had been selected because, for one reason or another, they were wanted by the police.

Having despatched his subordinate on his curious mission, Captain Brant made a tour of his ship, inspecting every portion of her with as close an attention to detail as if she had been a man-of-war. The luxurious and beautifully-upholstered saloon on the upper deck received a large share of his critical scrutiny; while, in strange contrast, his next visit was to a cabin on the lower deck, down in the bowels of the vessel, which was hardly furnished at all, and was certainly not luxurious. A bare bench, with some sacking on it, suggested that it was meant for a bed, and that was about all. Screwed into the bulk-head over the bench was a massive iron ring, and there lay on the floor a longish chain and a complete set of leg-irons fitted with cruel anklets. The only means of light was a small porthole protected by bars. The place seemed to have been prepared as a lazaretto—a kind of maritime prison.

Brant smiled grimly at the forbidding-looking chamber, then went back to the upper deck to await Cheeseman's return. Punctually at the stipulated time the bullet-headed mate appeared at the gangway.

"Well, where are the things? Where is the stewardess?" the captain scowled at him, perceiving that he was empty-handed and unaccompanied.

"The clothes will be delivered within half an hour; they had to make some alterations," Cheeseman hastened to assure him. "As to engaging a stewardess it's a dead failure. I saw one or two, but they won't join without fuller particulars of where we're bound for and how long we're to be away. I couldn't tell 'em, could I, seeing as I don't know myself."

The captain fired off half-a-dozen foul-mouthed expletives, and only checked them when a telegraph boy skipped across the gang-plank and handed him an orange-coloured envelope. Tearing it open, he glanced at the contents and bade the youth begone. The form contained the single word "Advance." Brant tore it into little pieces, and threw them overboard.

"Sailing orders," he said laconically. "Make things hum, Cheeseman. We must be off as soon as we get a full head of steam on her."

In ten seconds the vessel was in a state of orderly confusion. The crew appeared as by magic from the forecastle and went to their stations; the engine-room staff mustered round the shining monsters that were their especial care; the lazy fumes of blue vapour hovering over the funnel from the banked fires changed to great coils of black smoke as the stokers got to work on the furnaces. Brant took his place on the bridge, and watched his gang of ruffians with sinister satisfaction. The period of suspense was over, and they would give him no more trouble now that the lust of gold was on them, and they were in a fair way to verify Nugent's promises of a princely wage.

It was not long before the mate ran up the bridge stairs and reported a full head of steam and all ready to cast off. As he did so a cab rattled over the cobblestones of the quay road, and drew up opposite the Cobra.

"And here's the lady passenger's outfit, just in time not to be left behind," he added, catching sight of the cab as a young woman jumped nimbly out of the vehicle, and, after paying the driver, came towards the ship. Her progress was somewhat impeded by the weight of two large cardboard boxes which she was carrying.

Captain Brant cocked his bloodshot eye at the draper's assistant who had been entrusted with the delivery of the urgent order, and an inspiration came to him. The girl was not prepossessing, having strongly-marked, determined features; but she had a powerful, almost masculine frame, for all its size, not devoid of a certain panther-like grace. Brant uttered one of his nasty cackles, and turned to Cheeseman.

"We'll kill two birds with one stone, Bully," he said. "There's the fair passenger's blooming trousseau, and there, by gosh, is the blooming stewardess. Take the girl down into the saloon, and keep your jaw-tackle busy with her while I get a move on the ship. Say you must check the goods, or any flam of the sort. She'll do as well as another, soon as she knows there's dollars in it. If you're clever we'll be out to sea before she tumbles to it that she's left her native shores."

The mate grinned comprehension, and running down to the deck met the girl at the gangway. The moment they had disappeared into the saloon Brant gave orders to cast off, and as soon as the ropes that had moored the vessel to the quay had been hauled on board he rang the engine-room bell. The Cobra's mighty screw began to churn the still waters of the harbour, and slowly she sidled out into the fairway on the first stage of a voyage that was to lead her—whither? Twenty minutes later she had passed the green slopes of the Nothe and was heading at half-speed towards the open sea under the frowning heights of Portland.

At the end of that time Brant, from his perch on the bridge, saw the saloon door open and the young lady from the draper's shop come out on deck, followed by Bully Cheeseman. For an instant the girl stared round in evident bewilderment, then turned upon the man who had beguiled her into false security while the ship was being got under weigh.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded in a ringing voice that reached the bridge—the voice of a woman too angry to use many words.

"Skipper's orders," replied Cheeseman curtly. He had exhausted his limited stock of spurious politeness in distracting her attention, and now that the end was gained was not inclined to exert himself further.

Before he could guard himself his cheeks were tingling under two resounding smacks, his cap was knocked into the scruppers and his lank hair was in the clutch of lithe fingers. But the man who had earned the nickname of "Bully" was no respecter of sex, and, recovering himself, he seized the girl by the throat and shook her viciously. In his rage he might have gone to any lengths if Captain Brant had not run down the bridge stairs and flung him aside.

"Get to your duty," commanded the little atomy in his quavering treble. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself for handling a lady so. A little more velvet glove, and not quite so much iron hand till it's wanted, on this ship, if you please, my son."

Catching the wicked wink at the tail of his chief's eye, the mate sheered off in seeming self-abasement, and left the involuntary "stewardess" face to face with Brant. Somehow the courage which had stood her in good stead with the sturdy "Bully" failed her when confronted by this five-foot skeleton who looked as if he had been buried and dug up again. Her firm mouth quivered a little, and there was a suspicion of moisture in the sullen, wrathful eyes.

"Now that you've had your lark perhaps you'll turn your beastly ship round again and put me ashore," she strove to speak bravely. "I shall be fined as it is, for not being back on time."

Brant wheezed and cackled. "You've done with fines, my dear," he said, running an approving glance over the imposing female figure in the shabby black dress. "I'm going to be a father to you and make your fortune. Fact is there's a lady passenger coming aboard presently who'll want different company from us rough sailor-men, and I was bound to find it for her. The moment you stepped out of that cab I spotted you for the job, and there's not a bit of use in making a fuss. It'll be a gold mine for you before you've done with it. You'll never need to stand behind a counter again and be cheeked by rude old women—no, not in your natural."

The tall draper's assistant measured the captain with a calculating eye, and saw that in him that was not to be reckoned in inches. She was already mastering her indignation at the outrage. "You don't mean to put me ashore?" she said firmly.

"I'm d——d if I do," was Brant's energetic rejoinder.

She appeared to reflect. "If there's really money in it I don't so much mind," she said at length. "But if you want a quiet time you'll have to meet me on one thing. You must run into Plymouth on your way down Channel and give me a chance to let my young man know where I am. He's in the Navy—a petty officer on the destroyer Snipe."

Captain Brant rubbed his chin as if weighing the feasibility of the proposition. "Well," he said, "it won't be at all convenient, but I'll stretch a point to oblige you. You don't want to see the gentleman?"

"No, so long as I can send word to him, or get a letter posted, it will be all right."

"Then I'll do that much for the sake of a quiet life."

"You'll have to, or there'll be trouble," replied the matter-of-fact young amazon, little guessing that the villainous skipper had not the slightest intention of fulfilling his promise. A naval port, bristling with warships, was the very last place the Cobra would be likely to visit after her contemplated doings at Ottermouth that night.

However, having for the time pacified his stewardess, he became civil enough and allotted her a comfortable cabin near the saloon and next to a large, luxuriously furnished state-room which he pointed out as destined for the lady passenger whom they were to call for on their way down the coast.

"By the way," he wheezed with one of his monkey-like grins as he prepared to return to the bridge, "I haven't had the honour of an introduction. It might save awkwardness if you'd kindly put a name to yourself, miss."

"Jimpson," was the reply, "Miss Nettle Jimpson, and you'll find I'm a stinging-nettle, if you don't treat me fair."

Brant bowed with a mock solemnity, the hollowness of which he scarcely troubled to conceal. "Simon Brant has tamed vixens worse than you, my lass," he muttered behind his yellow teeth as he swung himself back to his perch.

And all that lovely summer afternoon the Cobra's powerful turbine engines drove the graceful vessel through the calm waters of the sunlit sea nearer to its prey. At sundown speed was reduced in order to conform with the instructions not to arrive off Ottermouth till after dark. But when the last rose tint had faded from the western sky Brant gave orders to steam slowly round the point at the river's mouth and heave to about three miles from the shore.

"Now the fun begins," he said to Cheeseman, who was with him on the bridge. "Keep your eyes skinned for a blue light followed by a green due north of us. When we see it you'll take the electric launch and drive her to the point where the light is shown. There you'll find a passenger waiting for you. Make the launch travel like hell, for you'll have another trip later. Rat Mullins and Snobby Wilson will go with you. They're about the toughest of the crowd, but I don't figure on trouble for you. The chap that's bossing things ashore will have seen to that."

So "the sleeping snake" lay on the gently heaving swell amid the gloom of the moonless night, and waited.