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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Gordon Craig Soldier of Fortune"


"Who are you? how did you come to be adrift in these waters? Answer
up, sir--you 're no fisherman."
"We escaped from a vessel last evening, sir."
"Escaped! By Gad! are we in a state of war? What do you mean by
escaped--run away?"
"Yes, sir," and I stepped aside so he could see her more clearly. "We
were being held as prisoners."
His eyes flashed to her face, rested an instant, and then his cap was
in his hand.
"I beg your pardon, young lady," he said gravely, "but this is all most
strange. I could almost imagine this was a century or two earlier when
pirates roamed these seas. You were prisoners you say, and escaped."
"Yes," I answered, before she could do so, "but you must pardon us
details until we know who it is that questions us."
"Oh, exactly; you are unaware of the nature of this vessel."
"Yes, sir."
"Well, this is the revenue cutter _Saline_, which I have the honor to
command."
I understood the situation in a flash, my heart leaping in fierce
anticipation.
"Mr. Smith, assist the lady to a chair, and have the steward bring a
glass of wine. Now, sir, are you ready to answer."
"I am; we were prisoners on board the _Sea Gull_. It is a long story,
envolving a will, in which the master of that vessel was interested.


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