END OF THE YACHT ADVENTURE
WE must now return to Nella Racksole and Prince Aribert of Posen on board the yacht without a name. The Prince's first business was to make Jules， otherwise Mr Tom Jackson， perfectly secure by means of several pieces of rope. Although Mr Jackson had been stunned into a complete unconsciousness， and there was a contused wound under his ear， no one could say how soon he might not come to himself and get very violent. So the Prince， having tied his arms and legs， made him fast to a stanchion.
'I hope he won't die，' said Nella. 'He looks very white.'
'The Mr Jacksons of this world，' said Prince Aribert sententiously， 'never die till they are hung. By the way， I wonder how it is that no one has interfered with us. Perhaps they are discreetly afraid of my revolver - of your revolver， I mean.'
Both he and Nella glanced up at the imperturbable steersman， who kept the yacht's head straight out to sea. By this time they were about a couple of miles from the Belgian shore.
Addressing him in French， the Prince ordered the sailor to put the yacht about， and make again for Ostend Harbour， but the fellow took no notice whatever of the summons. The Prince raised the revolver， with the idea of frightening the steersman， and then the man began to talk rapidly in a mixture of French and Flemish. He said that he had received Jules' strict orders not to interfere in any way， no matter what might happen on the deck of the yacht. He was the captain of the yacht， and he had to make for a certain English port， the name of which he could not divulge： he was to keep the vessel at full steam ahead under any and all circumstances. He seemed to be a very big， a very strong， and a very determined man， and the Prince was at a loss what course of action to pursue. He asked several more questions， but the only effect of them was to render the man taciturn and ill-humoured.
In vain Prince Aribert explained that Miss Nella Racksole， daughter of millionaire Racksole， had been abducted by Mr Tom Jackson； in vain he flourished the revolver threateningly； the surly but courageous captain said merely that that had nothing to do with him； he had instructions， and he should carry them out. He sarcastically begged to remind his interlocutor that he was the captain of the yacht.
'It won't do to shoot him， I suppose，' said the Prince to Nella. 'Imight bore a hole into his leg， or something of that kind.'
'It's rather risky， and rather hard on the poor captain， with his extraordinary sense of duty，' said Nella. 'And， besides， the whole crew might turn on us. No， we must think of something else.'
'I wonder where the crew is，' said the Prince.
Just then Mr Jackson， prone and bound on the deck， showed signs of recovering from his swoon. His eyes opened， and he gazed vacantly around. At length he caught sight of the Prince， who approached him with the revolver well in view.
'It's you， is it？' he murmured faintly. 'What are you doing on board？
Who's tied me up like this？'
'See here！' replied the Prince， 'I don't want to have any arguments， but this yacht must return to Ostend at once， where you will be given up to the authorities.'
'Really！' snarled Mr Tom Jackson. 'Shall I！' Then he called out in French to the man at the wheel， 'Hi André！ let these two be put off in the dinghy.'
It was a peculiar situation. Certain of nothing but the possession of Nella's revolver， the Prince scarcely knew whether to carry the argument further， and with stronger measures， or to accept the situation with as much dignity as the circumstances would permit.
'Let us take the dinghy，' said Nella； 'we can row ashore in an hour.'
He felt that she was right. To leave the yacht in such a manner seemed somewhat ignominious， and it certainly involved the escape of that profound villain， Mr Thomas Jackson. But what else could be done？ The Prince and Nella constituted one party on the vessel； they knew their own strength， but they did not know the strength of their opponents. They held the hostile ringleader bound and captive， but this man had proved himself capable of giving orders， and even to gag him would not help them if the captain of the yacht persisted in his obstinate course. Moreover， there was a distinct objection to promiscuous shooting； the Prince felt that；there was no knowing how promiscuous shooting might end.
'We will take the dinghy，' said the Prince quickly， to the captain.
A bell rang below， and a sailor and the Negro boy appeared on deck. The pulsations of the screw grew less rapid. The yacht stopped. The dinghy was lowered. As the Prince and Nella prepared to descend into the little cock-boat Mr Tom Jackson addressed Nella， all bound as he lay.
'Good-bye，' he said， 'I shall see you again， never fear.' .
In another moment they were in the dinghy， and the dinghy was adrift. The yacht's screw chumed the water， and the beautiful vessel slipped away from them. As it receded a figure appeared at the stem. It was Mr Thomas Jackson.
He had been released by his minions. He held a white handkerchief to his ear， and offered a calm， enigmatic smile to the two forlorn but victorious occupants of the dinghy. Jules had been defeated for once in his life； or perhaps it would be more just to say that he had been out-manoeuvred. Men like Jules are incapable of being defeated. It was characteristic of his luck that now， in the very hour when he had been caught red-handed in a serious crime against society， he should be effecting a leisurely escape - an escape which left no clue behind.
