H. Bedford-Jones

“ The infamous pirate would never come inland to Tananarive, in the very center of Madagascar; and then this M. Argenteuil was a slim, quiet, small man, his level gray eyes inoffensive, always calmly poised, his features bronzed, but neat and attractive in cut. Anything but a pirate, certainly!
“He will not be easy prey, this Trenchard,” observed the dignified colonel thoughtfully. “When you trap him, your troubles only begin. And remember, he is not a pirate as we know the word—that is, in the sight of international law. You have a plan?” ”

“ Trenchard shot a smoke-ring at Grenille, who chuckled in response; but to their disappointment no details were forthcoming. “Not a pirate, you say? Nonsense! He is a smuggler, an enemy to society, a man who disregards all law; and he has a weak point—his devotion to that sailing schooner of his! ”

“ His schooner at Zanzibar, indeed! He had carefully planted that report. True, he was not in conflict with British interests, and Zanzibar was a refuge for him, since he was no pirate according to international law; at the same time, Brouillan would have whistled had he known just where the schooner lay at the present moment.
“If I were you,” said Trenchard, leaning over the table, “I'd get out of here. You have to see your man and arrange about that cargo. I don't dare leave yet—besides, that rubber-broker of yours will be along any time now. ”