"It's the gal you've cared fer all the time," cried Jaggers, madly. "It was for her you led us into this scrape."
"Shut up!"
"I won't! You can't make me shut up, Gage."
"Well, you'll have a chance to talk to yourself and Tomlinson before long. Tomlinson will be jolly company."
"You've killed him!" accused the wounded man. "I saw you strike the blow, and I'll swear to that, my hearty!"
"It's not likely you'll be given a chance to swear to it, Jaggers. I may have killed him, but it was in self-defense. He was doing his best to get his knife into me."
"Yes, we was tryin' to finish you," admitted Jaggers. "With you out of the way, Tomlinson would have been cap'n, and I first mate. You've kept your eyes on the gal all the time. I don't believe you thought the cap'n had money at all. It was to get the gal you led us into this business. She'd snubbed you—said she despised you, and you made up your mind to carry her off against her will."
"If that was my game, you must confess I succeeded very well. But I can't waste more time talking to you. Get the boats ready, boys. I will take the smaller. Put Cap'n Bellwood in the larger, and look out for him."
The two sailors obeyed his orders. Boy though he was, Gage had resolved to become a leader of men, and he had succeeded.
The girl, quite overcome, was prostrate at the feet of her father, who was bound to the cypress tree.
There was a look of pain and despair on the face of the old captain. His heart bled as he looked down at his wretched daughter, and he groaned:
"Merciful Heaven! what will become of her? It were better that she should die than remain in the power of that young villain!"
"What are you muttering about, old man?" coarsely demanded Gage, as he bent to lift the girl. "You seem to be muttering to yourself the greater part of the time."
"You wretch! you young monster!" grated the old shipmaster. "Do you think you can escape the retribution that pursues all such dastardly creatures as you?"
"Oh, you make me tired! I have found out that the goody-good people do not always come out on top in this world. Besides that, it's too late for me to turn back now. I started wrong at school, and I have been going wrong ever since. It's natural for me; I can't help it."
"Spare my child!"
"Oh, don't worry about her. I'll take care of her."
"If you harm her, may the wrath of Heaven fall on your head!"
"Let it go at that. I will be very tender and considerate with her. Come, Elsie."
He attempted to lift her to her feet, but she drew from him, shuddering and screaming wildly:
"Don't touch me!"
"Now, don't be a little fool!" he said, harshly. "You make me sick with your tantrums! Come on, now."
But she screamed the louder, seeming to stand in the utmost terror of him.
With a savage exclamation, Gage tore off his coat and wrapped it about the girl's head so that her cries were smothered.
"Perhaps that will keep you still a bit!" he snapped, catching her up in his arms, and bearing her to the smaller boat, in which he carefully placed her.
She did not faint. As her hands were bound behind her, she could not remove the coat from about her head, and she sat as he placed her, with it enveloping her nearly to the waist.
"Is everything ready?" asked Gage. "Where are all the guns? Somebody take Tomlinson's weapons. Let Jaggers have his. He may need them when we are gone."
"Don't leave me here to die alone!" piteously pleaded the wounded sailor. "I'm pretty well gone now, but I don't want to be left here alone!"
Gage left the small boat for a moment, and approached the spot where the pleading wretch lay.
"Jaggers," he said, "it's the fate you deserve. You agreed to stand by me, but you went back on your oath, and tried to kill me."
"And now you're going to leave me here to bleed to death or starve?"
"Why shouldn't I? The tables are turned on you, my fine fellow."
"Well, I'm sure you won't leave me."
"You are?"
"Yes."
"Why won't I?"
"This is why!"
Jaggers flung up his hand, from which a spout of flame seemed to leap, and the report of a pistol sounded over the marsh.
Leslie Gage fell in a heap to the ground.
CHAPTER XXXII.
A MYSTERIOUS TRANSFORMATION
"Ha! ha! ha!" wildly laughed the wounded sailor. "That time he did not escape! Leave me to die, would he? Well, he is dead already, for I shot him through the brain!"
"That's where you are mistaken, Jaggers," said the cool voice of the boyish leader of the mutineers. "I saw your move, saw the revolver, and dropped in time to avoid the bullet."
Gage sprang to his feet.
A snarl of baffled fury came from the lips of the wounded sailor.
"The foul fiend protects you!" he cried. "See if you can dodge this bullet!"
He would have fired again, but Gage leaped forward in the darkness, kicked swiftly and accurately, and sent the revolver spinning from the man's hand.
"You have settled your fate!" hissed the boy, madly. "I did mean to have you taken away, and I was talking to torment you. Now you will stay here—and die like a dog!"
He turned from Jaggers, and hurried back to the boat, in which that muffled figure silently sat.
"Are you ready, boys?" he called.
Captain Bellwood had been released from the tree, and marched to the other boat, in which he now sat, bound and helpless.
"All ready," was the answer.
"All right; go ahead."
They pushed off, settled into their seats, and began rowing.
Gage was not long in following, but he wondered at the silence of the girl who sat in the stern. It could not be that she had fainted, for she remained in an upright position.
"Which way, cap?" asked one of the men.
"Any way to get out of this," was the answer. "We will find another place to camp, but I want to get away from this spot."
Not a sound came from beneath the muffled coat.
"It must be close," thought Gage. "I wonder if she can breathe all right. I wish she would do something."
At last, finding he could keep up with his companions without trouble, and knowing he would have very little difficulty in overtaking them, Gage drew in his oars and slipped back toward the muffled figure in the stern.
"Elsie," he said, softly.
No answer; no move.
"Miss Bellwood."
Still no answer.
"You must not think too hard of me, Miss Bellwood," he said, pleadingly. "I would not harm you for anything. I love you far too much for that, Elsie."
He could have sworn that the sound which came from the muffling folds of the coat was like a smothered laugh, but he knew she was not laughing at