Author's Notes: I was originally going to group this with the last chapter, but then I was in such a hurry to get something posted that I forgot. So, like the Never Bird, this is going to be a short chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Peter Pan or Hellsing.

Odd things happen to all of us on our way through life without our noticing for a time that they have happened. Thus, to take an instance, we suddenly discover that we have been deaf in one ear for we don't know how long, but, say, half an hour. Now such an experience had come that night to Alucard. When last we saw him he was stealing across the island with one finger to his lips and his dagger at the ready. He had seen the crocodile pass by without noticing anything peculiar about it, but by and by he remembered that it had not been ticking. At first he thought this eerie, but soon concluded rightly that the clock had run down.

Without giving a thought to what might be the feelings of a fellow-creature this abruptly deprived of its closest companion, Alucard began to consider how he could turn the catastrophe to his own use; and he decided to tick, so that wild beasts should believe he was the crocodile and let him pass unmolested. He ticked superbly, but with one unforeseen result. The crocodile was among those who heard the sound, and it followed him, though whether with the purpose of regaining what it had lost, or merely as a friend under the belief that it was again ticking itself, will never be certainly known, for, like slaves to a fixed idea, it was a stupid beast.

Alucard reached the shore without mishap, and went straight on, his legs encountering the water as if quite unaware that they had entered a new element. Thus many animals pass from land to water, but no other human of whom I know. As he swam he had but one thought: "Anderson or me this time." He had ticked so long that he now went on ticking without knowing that he was doing it. Had he known he would have stopped, for to board the brig by help of the tick, though an ingenious idea, had not occurred to him.

On the contrary, he thought he had scaled her side as noiseless as a mouse; and he was amazed to hear the pirates cowering from him, with Anderson in their midst as abject as if he had heard the crocodile.

The crocodile! No sooner did Alucard remember it than he heard the ticking. At first he thought the sound did come from the crocodile, and he looked behind him swiftly. They he realized that he was doing it himself, and in a flash he understood the situation. "How clever of me!" he thought at once, and had to contain himself from crowing.

It was at this moment that he noticed Integra forced to walk the plank, and his first thought was to board the ship with his dagger and forbid the proceedings.

But then he thought that Integra would be delightfully surprised if he caught her, and so he waited at the water below to do just that, ticking on.

Of course she was very surprised to be caught, and, seeing Alucard, she would have cried out in delight, but Alucard put a finger to his lips so that she would be silent.

This was very wise, for no sooner had the ticking stopped did the pirates sputter and wonder and look over the deck to see why there had been no sound.

"No splash!" they cried.

"No scream!"

"No tick!"

"What has become of Integra and the crocodile?"

But only Alucard and Integra knew the answer at present, as they hid below the ship. Integra was untied and her arms were around Alucard, who held her quite as if she were a bride. They smiled, and pressed their foreheads together in silent laughter, and set out toward the main mast with Rip Van Winkle in tow, creating a shimmering blue light that went unnoticed by the crew.

"The ship is bewitched!" wailed poor Yumiko.

Gentleman Heinkel, who wanted to ease pathetic Yumiko's fears, approached their captain calmly.

"No splash, Father," she said, quite reasonably to Anderson.

But Anderson had all he could take that night, so that his nerves were strung more tightly than the strings of a harpsichord, wherein one pluck could burst it outright, and Heinkel's statement had been the pluck that burst his nerves.

"So, you want a splash, Gentleman Heinkel?" he asked pleasantly; and then his fresh spring eyes were filled with white. "I'LL GIVE YOU A SPLASH!"

And he threw Heinkel overboard in a blink.

"One," Luke whispered under his breath.

The crew gasped in horror, for Anderson had never done anything of the sort to one of his own before. He had gone mad!

"Who's next?" Anderson demanded, brandishing his bayonets.

"YOU'RE NEXT, ANDERSON!" a voice rang from above, and all eyes turned first to each other, then up to the main mast where Alucard stood! "And this time you've gone too far!"

The boys cheered, not just because their beloved captain was back, but because their master Integra was safe, too.

The pirates were rightfully terrified, but Anderson only grinned in grim triumph.

"And who has the authority to make such a statement, boy?" was the nasty question.

"Alucard the avenger!" came the terrible answer; and as he spoke Alucard unsheathed his dagger.

Then they all knew who 'twas that had rescued Integra without making a sound, and twice Anderson essayed to speak and twice he failed. In that frightful moment I think his fierce heart broke.

At last he cried, "Do away with him!" but without conviction. His plan had twice failed, and Alucard had shown him up twice more than I think he could bear.

Alucard knew this, I'm sure, and took the opportunity to crow in triumph.

"Down, boys, and at them!" Alucard's voice rang out; and in another moment the clash of arms was resounding through the ship. The boys were untied and immediately they began to fight. Had the pirates kept together it is certain that they would have won; but the onset came when they were still unstrung, and they ran hither and thither, striking wildly, each thinking himself the last survivor of the crew. Man to man they were the stronger; but they fought on the defensive only, which enabled the boys to hunt in pairs and choose their quarry. Some of the miscreants leapt into the sea; others hid in dark recesses, where they were found by Integra, who did not fight, but ran about with a lantern which she flashed in their faces, so that they were half blinded and fell as an easy prey to the reeking swords of her boys, whom she directed in battle. There was little sound to be heard but the clang of weapons, an occasional screech or splash, and Luke monotonously counting—five—six—seven—eight—nine—ten—eleven.

I think all were gone when a group of savage boys surrounded Anderson, who seemed to have a charmed life, as he kept them at bay in that circle of fire. They had done for his dogs, but this man alone seemed to be a match for them all. Again and again they closed upon him, and again and again he hewed a clear space. He had lifted up one boy with his bayonets, and was using him as a buckler, when another, who had just passed his sword through Mullins, sprang into the fray.

"Put up your swords, boys," cried the newcomer, "this man is mine."

Thus suddenly Anderson found himself face to face with Alucard. The others drew back and formed a ring around them.

For long the two enemies looked at one another, Anderson shuddering slightly, and Alucard with the strange smile upon his face.

"So, Alucard," said Anderson at last, "this is all your doing."

"Ay, Alexander Anderson," came the stern answer, "it is all my doing."

"Proud and insolent youth," said Anderson, "prepare to meet thy doom."

"Dark and sinister man," Alucard answered, "have at thee."

Without more words they fell to, and for a space there was no advantage to either blade. Alucard was a superb swordsman, and parried with dazzling rapidity; ever and anon he followed up a feint with a lunge that got past his foe's defense, but his shorter reach stood him in ill stead, and he could not drive the steel home. Anderson, scarcely his inferior in brilliancy, but not quite so nimble in wrist play, forced him back by the weight of his onset, hoping suddenly to end all with a favourite thrust, taught him long ago by the Pope at Rio de Janeiro; but to his astonishment he found this thrust turned aside again and again. Then he sought to close and give the quietus with his iron hook, which all this time had been pawing the air; but Alucard doubled under it and, lunging fiercely, pierced him in the ribs. At the sight of his own blood, whose peculiar colour, you remember, was offensive to him, the sword fell from Anderson's hand, and he was at Alucard's mercy.

"Now!" cried all the boys, but with a magnificent gesture Alucard invited his opponent to pick up his sword. Anderson did so instantly, but with a tragic feeling that Alucard was showing good form.

Hitherto he had thought it was some fiend fighting him, but darker suspicions assailed him now.

"Boy, who and what art thou?" he cried huskily.

"I'm youth, I'm joy," Alucard answered at a venture, "I'm a little bird that has broken out of the egg."

This, of course, was nonsense; but it was proof to the unhappy Anderson that Alucard did not know in the least who or what he was, which is the very pinnacle of good form.

"To't again," he cried despairingly.

He fought now like a human flail, and every sweep of that terrible sword would have severed in twain any man or boy who obstructed it; but Alucard fluttered round him as if the very wind it made blew him out of the danger zone. And again and again he darted in and pricked.

Anderson was fighting now without hope. That passionate breast no longer asked for life; but for one boon it craved: to see Alucard show bad form before it was cold forever.

Abandoning the fight he rushed into the powder magazine and fired it.

"In two minutes," he cried, "the ship will be blown to pieces."

Now, now, he thought, true form will show.

But Alucard issued from the powder magazine with the shell in his hands, and calmly flung it overboard.

What sort of form was Anderson himself showing? Misguided man though he was, we may be glad, without sympathizing with him, that in the end he was true to the traditions of his race. The other boys were flying around him now, flouting, scornful; and he staggered about the deck striking up at them impotently, his mind was no longer with them; it was slouching in the praying fields of long ago, or being sent up for good, or watching the wall-game from a famous wall. And his boots were right, and his cassock was right, and his collar was right, and his socks were right.

Alexander Anderson, thou not wholly unholy figure, farewell.

For we have come to the moment when he quite lost his mind.

It was when he was being flouted and jeered at by the boys when Anderson, truly black with despair, and with no hope to keep him going, saw Integra with her light. I supposed Anderson, who was so far in the dark that any sort of light seemed abhorrent to him, found that he could not abide the girl and charged at her in a pure, animalistic, savage rage. This was much unexpected, even for Integra, who screamed and dropped her lantern when she saw him coming, which snuffed out. Anderson threw dozens of bayonets in her direction, two for each limb and her heart and one for her head, but Alucard swooped in, as he always did, and carried her away before the bayonets could hit their mark. Of course, it was very marvelous how he did it, but his rescue created a spark of hope in desperate Anderson that lit a terrible idea in the deepest pits of his twisted mind.

Alucard was showing good form, he thought, then let that good form be his downfall!

"Of course," he said out loud, "The girl would flee from the battle like a coward."

Integra was very affronted, and cried indignantly, "Coward! Me?"

Alucard pulled out his sword angrily, and Anderson knew his bayonet had hit its mark. He laughed a very wicked, mocking laugh. "Of course! You wouldn't dare fight me like the true leader that you claim to be, you would just have your servant fly you away like a coward!"

Alucard, who could not abide Integra being insulted, even for a second, shouted, "Nobody calls Integra a coward who lives! I'll fight you in her stead, with one hand behind my back!"

These were just the words Anderson wanted to hear, advancing upon them, he struck with his bayonet, but Alucard held up his sword to block the thrust with only one arm. Right where Anderson wanted him.

"True, but Integra cannot fly," he said.

"Then neither will I," was the answer.

Integra cried loudly, "No, don't Alcuard! It's a trick!"

But even Alucard would not obey Integra in this matter. "I give my word!" he told Anderson, and the fight was on again.

It was a terrible fight for Alucard, who did indeed keep his word, and fought one-handed without flying. Worse, he and Anderson were up on the main mast at this time, so falling would mean Alucard's doom as well as Anderson's. Even at the best of their abilities, both were at the height of good form, Alucard and Anderson were quite evenly matched. But without the advantage of duel-handed fight or flight, with Anderson so much bigger and stronger than young Alucard could ever be, the advantage was quite tipped in Anderson's favour, and he knew it. It was only a matter of time, I'm afraid, before Anderson had Alucard disarmed and backing away from the point of his bayonet.

"Insolent youth, prepare to die!"

"Fly, fly Alucard," Integra commanded, "Fly!"

"No!" Alucard cried, even then, "I gave my word!"

What is a word to Alucard? But he knew such things were important to Integra, who never backed down even when her dignity was on the line, so he could not back down when he was fighting in her stead. But Alucard quickly saw another way to fight that would not break Integra's code of honour, and before Anderson could blink, Alucard had wrapped him in his own flag and taken his bayonet. "You're mine!"

The lost boys cheered loudly below, and Integra among them, and they felt sure that Alucard would do away with Anderson for good.

"Cleave him to the brisket!" Pip cried, and Integra embraced him.

But Anderson was too thoroughly humiliated by that point; he had no more fight left in him, and no more desire to live at all.

Seeing Alucard slowly advancing upon him through the air with bayonet poised, he sprang upon the bulwarks to cast himself into the sea. He did not know that the crocodile was waiting for him; for we purposely stopped the clock that this knowledge might be spared him: a little mark of respect from us at the end.

He had one last triumph, which I think we need not grudge him. As he stood on the bulwark looking over his shoulder at Alucard gliding through the air, he invited him with a gesture to use his foot. It made Alucard kick instead of stab.

At last Anderson had got the boon for which he craved.

"Bad form," he cried jeeringly, and went content to the crocodile.

Thus perished Alexander Anderson.

"Seventeen," Luke sang out; but he was not quite correct in his figures. Fifteen paid the penalty for their crimes that night; but two reached the shore: Heinkel to be captured by the natives, who made her nurse for all their papooses, a melancholy come-down for a pirate; and Yumiko, who henceforth wandered about the world in her spectacles, making a peaceful living by spreading the teachings of Catholicism without trying to bully or coerce; until she encountered Heinkel along her journey, but that is a tale for another time.

Integra, of course, had stood by taking no part in the fight, except to give orders and battle strategies where they were needed, and saved more than one boy from certain death by doing so; but now that all was over she became passive again. She praised them equally, and shuddered delightfully when Jan showed her the place where he had killed one; and then she took them into Anderson's cabin and pointed to his watch which was hanging on a nail. It said "half-past one!"

The lateness of the hour was almost the biggest thing of all. She got them to bed in the pirates' bunks pretty quickly, you may be sure; all but Alucard, who strutted up and down on the deck, until at last he fell asleep by the side of Harkonnen Cannon. He had one of his dreams that night, and cried in his sleep for a long time, and Integra held him tightly.