Taking the wooden steps three at a time he mounted to the quarter deck. As the ship was in port only a skeleton watch was being maintained. Except for two seamen sitting on coils of rope smoking their long pipes at the entrance to the fo'c'sle no one was about, but at the sound of Roger's footsteps a young Lieutenant emerged from the after deck house. Saluting Roger politely he asked his business.
'I am here,' said Roger, 'to see the Scnorita in the Captain's quarters.'
The Lieutenant looked startled and exclaimed, 'I... I fear that is not possible, Monsieur le Colonel. Nobody is allowed to see her without Captain Fournier's permission, and he is ashore.'
'I require nobody's permission,' returned Roger sharply. 'Come! Be good enough to take me to her.'
'But . . . but, monsieur le Colonel! stammered the lieutenant. 'I am under orders. The lady is English. She... she is a captive and held incommunicado.'
'Of that I am aware, as also are the authorities who sent mc here.' Roger's blue eyes flashed as he added with a sneer, 'And since when did Frenchmen make war on women?'
The young man reddened. 'Please believe I am in no way responsible. But I have my orders. I cannot disobey them.'
'That I appreciate. However, by making your protest you have done your duty. I will go find her for myself.' Turning on his heel Roger walked briskly towards the entrance under the poop that led to the ship's stern cabin.
Now sweating slightly with apprehension, the Lieutenant hurried after him and cried, "Monsieur le Colonel, will you not wait until Captain Fournier comes aboard? He is due back now, so should be here quite shortly. Wait and discuss this with him, I beg; otherwise I'll find myself in most grievous trouble.'
Ignoring the plea Roger, strode down the passage until he reached a door at the end which obviously gave on to the big stateroom. Seizing the handle of the door he rattled it, but it was locked. The noise he made brought a big, broad-shouldered man out of a nearby galley. A glance at the kit he was wearing led Roger to judge that he was the Captain's steward and he snapped:
'Where is the key to this door? Get it at once.'
The steward gave him a surly look then glanced at the Lieutenant, who quavered, 'Monsieur le Colonel, we have our orders.'
'To hell with your orders! Refuse me the key and I'll kick the door in.' Roger drew back a pace as though about to raise his heavily-booted foot.
'These quarters is private,' said the steward aggressively. 'An' 'tis my job to see as no one enters 'em in Capn's absence.' Then he moved to step in front of Roger.
Drawing himself up, Roger said harshly, 'You know my rank. Observe also my sash. It is that of an A.D.C. to the Emperor. Lay a hand on me or endeavour to prevent mc from entering this stateroom and by God you'll rue it. I'll have you sent to the galleys. Now, give me the key.'
The steward wilted and produced a long key from his jacket pocket. Taking it, Roger snarled at him, 'Get back to your galley.' Then he turned to the Lieutenant. 'I am about to relieve you of your prisoner. Should you make am attempt to stop me I shall report the matter personally tc Monsieur Decres, the Minister of Marine, and see to it that you are court martialled with your Captain for having aided him in an illegal act. You will now return to your quarterdeck.'
Still surly, but cowed, the steward shuffled back into his pantry. The Lieutenant, white to the gills, saluted then turned on his heel. Roger quickly inserted the key in the lock and opened the door. Georgina was standing near one end of a large table which occupied the centre of the big stateroom. She now had on a cloak and hood and was holding a big straw basket into which she had hurriedly crammed her belongings.
As Roger stepped through the doorway into the stateroom, Georgina, her great dark eyes shining with delight, started to run towards him. With a swift gesture he checked her, and put a finger to his lips enjoining silence. Then he bowed and asked:
'Madame, parlez-vous francais?'
She nodded, and he went on in French, 'It has come to the knowledge of the authorities that you are being held here ugainst your will. I have been sent to take you ashore. Permit me to relieve you of your basket.' He was playing this little comedy for the benefit of the steward, who he felt sure was listening behind the half-open galley door. And as he stepped up to Georgina to take the basket, he added in a whisper, "Until we are alone it is better that we should pretend to be strangers.' Then he stood aside for her to precede him from the cabin.
On the quarter deck the Lieutenant was standing, still sweating at the thought of having to face his Captain's wrath; but he made no move to stop them and saluted as they stepped up on to the gangway.
The moment Roger could see over the ship's side he received a most unpleasant shock. His excitement at freeing Georgina had caused him momentarily to forget about the Lieutenant's having told him that Captain Fournier was expected back on board at any time. And there was the Captain just stepping out of his gig on to the platform below.
Quickly handing Georgina back her basket, he put her behind him and started down the steps. At the same moment the Captain glanced up. On seeing Georgina his mouth fell open in surprise. Then his face became black with anger and he bellowed at Roger:
'Who the devil are you? What's the meaning of this?'
Roger smiled at him and replied, 'I should have thought you could sec for yourself. I am about to take this lady ashore.'
'You'll do nothing of the kind.’
'Indeed I shall. And you will attempt to stop me at your peril.’
Fournier was a tall, bronze-faced man of about forty, his good looks now marred by an ugly scowl. He had run up a dozen steps of the gangway and Roger had quietly walked down about the same number; so they were now within a few feet of one another.
'Who are you?' demanded the. Captain. 'By what right are you in my ship?'
'My name is Galahad,' Roger grinned down at him. 'And I am about my normal business of rescuing damsels in distress.'
'Damn your insolence! I'll teach you manners before you are much older. Get back on deck this instant.'
'Manners? Oh come, Captain. Where are yours? Had you any you would not keep a lady waiting, but descend to the platform so that she could pass? '
Infuriated by this baiting. Foumer put his hand to his sword. Roger had been expecting that so was ready for it, but he had no intention of exchanging thrusts, for should either of them seriously wound the other he would have little hope of getting away with Georgia If be got the worst of the encounter that would be that, [f the Captain did it was certain that his men would prevent them from leaving the ship until some, senior officer could be brought on the scene.
Instead he waited another moment until both Fournier's hands were engaged, the right gripping the hilt of the sword and the left grasping the scabbard. Then, grabbing with one hand the rope that ran alongside the gangway he went down one step and, with the other, gave the Captain a terrific box on his right car.
The blow sent Fournier reeling sideways. Roger followed it up with a swift kick that landed on the unfortunate man's right shoulder. His whole weight was thrown upon the rope, it gave outward, his feet slid from the step and he hurtled downward to land with a loud splash in the sea.
The Spaniards in Roger's boat had no love for their French masters and gave vent to loud oles of approval. The French sailors in the gig apparently had little affection for their Captain, as they had difficulty in hiding their grins at his discomfiture while putting off to rescue him before he was swept away by the tide. Georgina held her sides and roared with laughter.