"What do they mean by being punished?" asked the commodore.

"Sent to sea. Mr. Lowington promised us a trip down the Rhine; and now that excursion is given up. The fellows say the ship is bound to Belfast, to convey the Arbuckles home. They say they are willing to do their duty, if they can have fair play."

"What do the seamen intend to do?" asked Paul.

"Nothing, sir. They say they will give their reasons when called upon."

"Probably they will, when called upon," said Paul, who had very high ideas of discipline.

The executive officer returned, and explained the situation to the captain. It was impossible to get the ship under way with less than thirty seamen, and he felt that his powers were exhausted. Fortunately, Mr. Lowington, who had heard the boatswain's pipe, came on deck at this critical moment.

"Didn't I hear the boatswain's pipe?" asked the principal, surprised to find only a few hands in the waist.

"Yes, sir; we have called all hands twice, and only about thirty answer the call."

"It was a mistake to call more than once," replied Mr. Lowington, who did not seem to be taken aback by the astounding intelligence. "What's the matter?"

The captain explained, reporting the statements made by the faithful ones in the waist.

"A mutiny, then—is it?" added the principal, with a smile. "Well, I am glad it is no worse."

"The mutineers are willing to explain, when called upon for an explanation," added Paul, who was indignant at the conduct of the malcontents.

"We don't usually call for explanations in such cases on board ship," said the principal. "It is plain enough that this is only a second edition of the confusion of this afternoon. The young gentlemen have been listening to evil advice."

"What shall be done, sir?" inquired the captain, rather nervously, in spite of his laborious efforts to keep cool.

"Mutiny is mutiny," replied the principal; "but in this case, I think we need not treat it with the severity which prevails in the navy. The students below say, and probably believe, that the excursion to the Rhine has been abandoned, and that the ship is bound to Belfast. Though they are mistaken, we can only tell them so when they return to their duty. We will go to sea, as we intended."

"How can we go to sea with a crew of less than thirty?" asked Shuffles.

"Keep perfectly calm, Captain Shuffles. I am willing to grant that, in a man-of-war, with men in a state of mutiny, the case would be a very serious one. I do not so regard it in the present instance, but we will profit by the lesson it may teach. For an officer to permit a sailor to see that he is disconcerted is yielding too much. Therefore, young gentlemen, I wish you all to be perfectly composed, whatever happens. This affair is rather ludicrous than otherwise, since the mutineers declare that they are ready to explain when called upon to do so, which is very kind and condescending on their part," the principal proceeded, addressing the officers who had gathered around him for the solution of what seemed to them a very difficult and trying problem.

But they were not permitted to hear the solution, for the principal invited the commodore and the captain into the main cabin, to discuss the matter, desiring, even in the present embarrassing situation, to have everything done in accordance with his ideas of discipline. He meant that the captain should be the apparent, if he could not be the real, manager of the difficult affair.

"How many hands responded to the boatswain's call?" asked the principal, when the party were seated.

"Less than thirty," answered Shuffles.

"Twenty-eight. I had the curiosity to count them," interposed Paul.

"Twenty-eight," repeated the principal. "Very well; we can—"

"I hope you will excuse me, sir," said Shuffles, interrupting him. "If this state of thing is caused by any dislike to me, sir, I am willing to resign."

"So far as I know, you have done your duty, Shuffles; and to permit you to resign would be to abandon the plan of the Academy Ship, and acknowledge that discipline is an impracticable thing. You cannot resign."

"Many of the fellows dislike me," added the captain.

"That is not your fault, as I understand the matter. That the runaways, who, I suspect, are at the root of this mischief, should be prejudiced against you, was to be expected. If others are also, it is because they are misinformed. You can afford to wait till time justifies your good intentions."

"I am willing to own that I have no desire to resign. I like the place, but I am willing to sacrifice my own wishes for the peace of the ship."

"Peace is not to be bought on any such terms. Say nothing more about resigning. Twenty-eight hands, you say, are ready to obey orders."

"Yes, sir."

"On an emergency, the captain and four lieutenants can officer the ship. Masters, midshipmen, and pursers must do duty as seamen. They will gladly consent to do so. Let it be voluntary on their part. How many will that make?"

"Thirty-eight."

"Peaks, Bitts, and Leach will make forty-one. The Josephine is fully manned, and can spare us nine more. That will make fifty. If we lay aside the school work, we can sail the ship round the world with that number."

Shuffles displayed a smile of satisfaction at this solution.

"But we will procure the services of a tug-boat to tow us to sea, so that there will be no hard work in getting clear of the harbor," added the principal. "Send Leavitt in the second cutter to the Josephine for the extra hands, and let Foster go in the third for one of the steam-tugs up by the jetties. Above all things, Captain Shuffles, do not mention your plans to any person."

"I will not, sir," replied Shuffles, as he hastened on deck to put in force the solution of the problem.

"What is to be the result of this, Mr. Lowington?" asked Paul.

"I don't know—nothing serious, however. The young gentlemen are waiting very impatiently in their mess-rooms to be called and asked for the explanation, which I doubt not is a very plausible one. Let them wait," continued the principal, leading the way to the deck, where he sat down with the Arbuckles, and was soon busy in conversation with them, as though nothing had happened.



CHAPTER V.

THE ORDER OF THE FAITHFUL.

The appearance of Captain Shuffles on deck produced a decided sensation among the officers, some of whom believed that the mutineers would be dragged from the mess-rooms by the adult forward officers, and tied up to the rigging. The decided character of the principal certainly pointed to the most decided measures. Something terrible was to be expected, and the young gentlemen were astonished when Mr. Lowington came on deck, immediately after the captain, seated himself with the Arbuckles, and began to converse with them as pleasantly as though no mutiny had ever been dreamed of.

The captain called the officers around him, and all of them eagerly obeyed the summons.

"We are going to sea immediately," said he, with none of the anxiety which was visible in his face before. "As we are short-handed, I have a favor to ask. Those below the rank of lieutenant, who are willing to serve as seamen until the discipline of the ship can be restored, will signify it by walking over to the starboard side."

All below the grade indicated, with a single exception, promptly marched over to the other side of the ship. The four lieutenants stepped out of the way, so that the single dissenter might stand alone. It is hardly necessary to say that Perth was the person who was so largely in the minority among the officers.

"You decline to serve with the other masters?" said Shuffles.

"I prefer to be excused. I have had considerable experience as a seaman, and would like a little more as an officer," replied Perth, politely.

"We shall dispense with the services of all the officers except the lieutenants," added the captain. "There will be nothing for you to do, but you shall not be compelled to serve as a seaman."

"Permit me to take his place," interposed Gordon, the senior past officer.

"Thank you, Gordon," replied Shuffles.

"Please enroll me also as a seaman," added Haven, good-naturedly.

"And me also," laughed Paul.

"I suggest that the past officers take the places of the second, third, and fourth lieutenants, who shall do duty as seamen," said Leavitt, the second officer.

"By all means," added Foster, the third.

"With all my heart," followed Prescott, the fourth.

The captain adopted this suggestion, and Gordon, as second lieutenant, was sent off to the Josephine in the second cutter, which was pulled by three masters and the three midshipmen. When it was ready to leave, Mr. Lowington stepped into the boat, for he desired to satisfy himself that the crew of the consort were not also demoralized. Haven in the third cutter, with a volunteer crew, left the ship to procure a tug-steamer. Peaks, Bitts, Leach, and the head steward had been privately requested to be on deck, in case any unexpected demonstration was made by the mutineers.

In the steerage everything was very quiet. The sensation below was decidedly superior to that on deck. The rebels were patiently waiting to be called upon for an explanation of their remarkable conduct. Probably none of them even noticed that the grating had been put upon the main hatch by the cautious Peaks, to prevent them from leaving the steerage. The boatswain's call had sounded twice, and they supposed the faculty of the Academy were consulting upon the proper measures to be taken. Most of them believed that they would be invited on deck, where the principal would "preach" to them, as usual, and thus afford them an opportunity to state their grievances. Perhaps, with the exception of the runaways, they were willing to return to their duty after they had recorded their protest. The principal still purposed to let them wait.

The third cutter, all of whose volunteer crew wore shoulder-straps, came up to the gangway of the Josephine, which, like the ship, was all ready to weigh anchor.

"You come with a very nobby crew," said Mr. Fluxion, as the principal stepped upon the deck of the consort.

"The ship is in a state of mutiny," replied Mr. Lowington, with a smile upon his face, which softened the astounding declaration.

"Mutiny!" exclaimed Mr. Fluxion.

"Precisely so. We called all hands to weigh anchor, and less than thirty answered to the summons. We learned from them that the rest of the crew refused to do duty till their grievances were heard. Do you know of anything of this kind on board of your vessel?"

"We haven't called all hands yet, for we don't begin to get under way till the ship mans the capstan. It is possible that we shall have the same difficulty."

"Let your captain get under way at once, for the ship will be towed out. If your crew is all right, I should like to transfer a few seamen to the ship, for we are rather short-handed," added the principal.

Mr. Fluxion called Captain Terrill, and the order was given to pipe all hands. As the boatswain's whistle sounded, the principal and the vice-principal descended to the cabin. Mr. Lowington had begun to explain his method of dealing with the difficulty, when a messenger from the captain reported that twelve seamen refused to answer the summons.

"Ascertain who they are, and get under way without disturbing them," said the principal, after the messenger had retired.

"That's a novel way to deal with a mutiny," added Mr. Fluxion, who was always in favor of decisive measures.

Mr. Lowington stated his views fully, and explained his plan. Though the vice-principal did not agree with him in regard to his corrective measures, he consented to adopt them. When they went on deck, the captain handed Mr. Fluxion a list of the names of the Josephine's mutineers. They were the twelve runaways who had been transferred to the consort. Little had succeeded in inducing them to engage in the plot, but the rest of the crew would not follow their vicious example, even with the assurance that the mutiny was general on board of the ship. Under these circumstances, none of the crew of the Josephine could be spared for service in the Young America, and the boat returned without them. The principal decided that the ship could be handled with the available force, which might include a portion of the cooks and stewards, some of whom were sailors.

The tug-boat had come alongside when the cutter reached the ship. In order to give any rebel, who had repented, an opportunity to return to his duty, the grating was removed from the main hatch, and the boatswain again called all hands to weigh anchor. Only two of them, however, answered the call. The capstan was manned by the faithful thirty, reenforced by the officers and the men on board. A long hawser had been passed from the bow to the steamer, and as soon as the anchor was up to the hawse-hole, the signal was given to go ahead. The Josephine followed as promptly as though every seaman on board performed his duty, though the sails were not set with the usual precision. The little squadron went off to the north-west, carrying its double mutiny with it.

As soon as the ship began to move, after the anchor was secured, the officers devoted themselves to the duty of stationing the crew. They were divided into two watches, and their places for making and taking in sail, reefing and tacking, were assigned to them. As the officers who had volunteered to serve before the mast were thorough seamen, the task was speedily accomplished. There were no "green hands" to be favored, for every one was competent to hand, reef, and steer. By the time the squadron was well in the offing, the ship's company was in condition to make sail. About ten miles outside of the harbor, the steamer was discharged.

"All hands, make sail, ahoy!" shouted the boatswain; and every officer and seaman sprang to his station.

Lieutenants, masters, midshipmen, and pursers mingled with the seamen, and the work was done with promptness and precision. Topsails, top-gallant-sails, and courses were set, and with the wind abeam, the ship went off to the north-west as comfortably as though no mutiny had distracted her routine. When everything was made snug for a night at sea, the roll was called, and the names of the mutineers checked on the list.

"Young gentleman," said Mr. Lowington, while the faithful were still assembled in the waist, "I regret that so many of your companions have resorted to a silly and stupid expedient to redress real or imaginary grievances. Mutiny is never respectable, under any circumstances; and I wish to draw a sharp line between those who do their duty and those who do not. I desire that none of you hold any communication whatever with the mutineers. Be dignified and gentlemanly, but avoid them. Give them no information in regard to what transpires on deck. I request you to do this. I do not give you any order to that effect.

"None of the mutineers will be allowed to come on deck, and I shall have some means of distinguishing the faithful from the unfaithful."

"Will you allow me to furnish a badge for each of the faithful?" asked Grace Arbuckle, who stood near the principal, and was deeply interested in the proceedings.

"Certainly, Miss Arbuckle; and I am sure the young gentlemen will set an additional value upon the decoration if it is bestowed by you," replied Mr. Lowington, as gallantly as though he had been a much younger man.

"Thank you, sir," answered Grace, blushing at the compliment.

"Miss Arbuckle will give a badge to each of you," continued the principal to the faithful few.

The crew on deck applauded lustily.

"It will be a white ribbon on the left breast," said Grace.

"A white ribbon on the left breast," repeated Mr. Lowington, as Grace hastened to the cabin to procure the materials for the decoration. "I learn that those who refused to answer the boatswain's call, expected to be asked for an explanation of their conduct. I cannot make terms with mutineers. I should have proceeded in a different manner if I had not believed there was a misunderstanding. I am willing to explain for your benefit, but not for those below. Do you understand?"

"Ay, ay, sir!" shouted the students.

"With a promise on your part to keep your own counsels, I will explain. Those of you who will agree not to communicate anything I may say to the mutineers will signify it by going abaft the mizzen-mast on the quarter-deck. Those who decline to agree to these terms will remain in the waist."

Every officer, including Perth, and every seaman, promptly marched to the quarter-deck.

"At the wheel, do you agree to the terms?" said the principal, addressing the quarter-master and seaman who were steering.

"Yes, sir," replied both.

"Mr. Peaks, you will see that no one is at the ladder of the main hatch," continued the principal, turning to the adult boatswain.

"Ay, ay, sir," replied Peaks, who soon reported that all the mutineers were still in the mess-rooms.

"Now, young gentlemen, I am told it is generally believed in the steerage that the trip down the Rhine has been abandoned; that the ship is bound to Belfast to convey our good friends to their home. This is a mistake, and probably the one which made the mischief in part. I have no idea of going to Belfast, and no idea of abandoning the excursion into Germany."

The boys applauded with a zeal which indicated how satisfactory the intelligence was to them.

"Certainly the discipline of the ship needs improving, but I was satisfied that two or three days' service at sea would restore it to its former standard. If the squadron remains at Havre during our absence, both vessels must go into the docks, which involves considerable expense. I therefore purposed to make a harbor at Brest, and go from there to the Rhine. For this reason the baggage of our friends was brought on board. That is really all that need be said. Are you satisfied?"

"Ay, ay, sir!" shouted the crowd.

"But remember that this explanation is made for your benefit, and not for that of the students in the steerage. They have chosen their own remedy, and they must abide the issue. You are now dismissed."

"Not yet, if you please, Mr. Lowington," interposed Grace, who had stationed herself, with her mother on the port side of the mizzen-mast. "If the young gentlemen will pass this way, they shall be decorated with the white ribbon of the Order of the Faithful."

"The Order of the Faithful!" exclaimed Mr. Lowington, laughing, while all the students applauded. "You will pass forward on the port side of the mizzen-mast, and be initiated into the Order of the Faithful."

"I shall join that order," said Commodore Kendall, as he placed himself in the single line formed by the boys.

"Let the flag-officer go first," added some of the students, dragging Paul to the head of the column.

"Commodore Kendall, you are received into the Order of the Faithful," said Grace, as she pinned upon the left breast of his coat the white ribbon, which was doubled, so that the two ends hung down.

"Thank you, Miss Arbuckle. I will endeavor to be faithful," replied the flag-officer, as he touched his cap to the fair initiator.

Captain Shuffles followed him, and in half an hour the entire party were duly initiated and decorated. As fast as Mrs. Arbuckle could cut off and double the ribbons, Grace adjusted them. She explained that she had purchased a large quantity of narrow white and blue ribbon in Paris to make trimmings for a dress; and when the principal had spoken of a distinguishing mark for those who did their duty, it had suggested to her the white ribbon of the Order of the Faithful. She was delighted to have her idea so well received.

"We have had some secret societies on board this ship," laughed Paul Kendall, after he had received his decoration. "I move you we form another—the Order of the Faithful."

"We have already taken the obligation," added Shuffles.

"And we have been initiated by Miss Arbuckle," said Gordon.

The suggestion was received with favor, though rather as a pleasantry than as a serious matter; and, after the faithful had all marched by the mizzen-mast, the subject was again taken up in the waist.

"I move you that Commodore Kendall be chosen Grand Commander of the Order of the Faithful," said Shuffles.

"I beg you will excuse me. I couldn't walk if I had to carry around with me such a magnificent title as that," replied Paul, shrugging his shoulders like a Frenchman. "I suggest that Miss Grace Arbuckle be the chief of the order, and that no one be admitted unless initiated by her. As she is the founder of the order, it is fair that she should be its head."

"Good!" shouted several of the officers and seamen.

"What shall her title be?" added Shuffles.

"Queen," replied Gordon.

"No; that's too commonplace," answered Haven.

"What shall it be, then?"

"Something outlandish, just for the fun of the thing," said Haven, who was not a very warm advocate of secret societies.

"The Amazon," suggested one of the seamen.

"O, no! don't call her an Amazon," protested Paul. "It would be a libel upon her."

"The Queen of the Fairies."

"We are not fairies," objected Haven.

"She is one, at any rate."

"Call her the Empress."

"Simply the President."

"No; the Directress."

The question seemed to be a trying one; and one after another suggested titles which were satisfactory to no one but the proposers.

"How will the Protectress do?" inquired Shuffles.

"Rather formidable and commonplace," replied Haven. "Make it the Grand Protectress, and I am with you."

"I like Protectress," added Paul Kendall.

"So do I," said half a dozen others.

"Grand Protectress is better," persisted Haven, who could not help making a burlesque of the affair.

"Grand Protectress!" shouted a dozen others, who believed in high-sounding titles.

"Put it to vote," suggested Shuffles.

"Ay, ay! put it to vote."

"Those in favor of Grand Protectress say, ay," continued Haven.

"Ay!" responded a large number.

"Opposed."

"No."

"The ayes have it. Grand Protectress it is."

"I move you that Commodore Kendall and Captain Shuffles be a committee to wait upon Miss Arbuckle, and inform her that she has been unanimously chosen Grand Protectress of the Order of the Faithful. Those in favor say, ay; those opposed, no. It is a vote."

The committee went to the quarter-deck, where Grace and her mother were conversing with Mr. Lowington. Paul, who was by seniority the spokesman, touched his cap, and looked as dignified as though he had been the minister plenipotentiary of one of the great powers.

"Miss Arbuckle, I have the honor—and I should do injustice to my own feelings if I did not add, the pleasure—to inform you, that you have been unanimously chosen Grand Protectress of the Order of the Faithful."

"The what?" asked Grace.

The principal, usually very solemn and dignified, laughed heartily.

"Grand Protectress," replied Paul, gravely. "The order has been duly established; and, as you have initiated all the members, it is eminently proper that you should preside over its destinies."

"Please to assure the members of the order, that I accept the high position, and that I am very grateful to them for the honor they have done me," answered Grace, when she could restrain her laughter so as to speak.

"I am happy to be the bearer of such a pleasant message," said Paul, as he bowed and retired.

"Grand Protectress!" laughed Grace, repeating in measured tones her magnificent title.

Paul reported the acceptance of the Grand Protectress; and the society was further organized by the choice of a secretary, whose only duty was to keep a record of the names of the members.

"Now, we want a motto," said Gordon; "something that will express, in few words, the objects of the society."

"I don't happen to know what the objects of the society are," replied Haven; "but I suggest, 'Honi soit qui mal y pense.'"

"The Queen of England has a mortgage on that motto," said Paul. "Semper paratus will be better."

"What does it mean?" asked a student.

"Some praties," replied a wag.

"Let us have a motto in plain English, and one that has not been used by all the engine companies in the United States," added Haven.

"Semper paratus is good, I think," persisted Paul. "Always ready to answer the boatswain's call, and always ready to do our duty."

"But it is worn out," protested Haven. "I move you we invite the Grand Protectress to give us a motto."

The motion was carried, and the same committee appointed to make the request. Paul led the way to Grace again, who was still highly amused at the grand honor which had been conferred upon her.

"The Order of the Faithful instructs me humbly to petition the Grand Protectress for a motto suitable to the needs, and expressive of the objects, of the association," said Paul.

"O, dear me!" exclaimed Grace. "If you ask such things as that of me, I shall not wish to be Grand Protectress. I think, as your great philosopher said, it will be paying too dear for the whistle. Must it be in English, French, Latin, or German?"

"That must be left to the discretion of your Grand Protectresship," answered Paul, gravely.

"Please to help me, father," said she, appealing to Mr. Arbuckle.

"Whatever the Grand Protectress vouchsafes to give us shall be cherished by the order," added Paul.

Mr. Arbuckle wrote a sentence on a slip of paper, and handed it to Grace.

"Ah, here is your motto!" exclaimed she, laughing heartily.

"Please to repeat it," said Captain Shuffles.

"Vous ne pouvez pas faire un sifflet de la queue d'un cochon," added Grace, reading from the paper, which she handed to Paul, choking with mirth.

"Thanks, most excellent Grand Protectress," replied the commodore, who found it very difficult to maintain his gravity.

"It is a literal translation of the English proverb, and perhaps the idea is not expressed in similar phrase in French," said Mr. Arbuckle; "but I think it will answer very well for a motto."

Paul smoothed down his face as well as he could, and conveyed the motto to the assembled order in the waist.

"I have the honor to inform you that the Grand Protectress has provided a motto," said he.

"What is it?" demanded a dozen.

"It is in French."

"The motto!" called the impatient Faithfuls.

"Vous ne pouvez pas faire un sifflet de la queue d'un cochon."

Only two or three laughed, for only a few were as good French scholars as Paul and Shuffles.

"What's the English of it?" asked several at the same time.

"You must excuse me, for I do not think it is quite proper to translate the motto," replied Paul.

Those who understood it enjoyed the joke too much to afford the others any light on the subject. Haven was delighted with the motto, and moved that it be accepted. As it had been furnished by the Grand Protectress, it was unanimously adopted. The weak scholars were very curious to know the meaning of the mystic words. Most of them could make out a part of the sentence, but not enough to translate it. The business of the meeting was completed, and the members separated, all of them feeling that the mutiny of the Young America was more like a merrymaking than anything else. To be decorated with the white ribbon of the order by a beautiful young lady was a privilege which they appreciated, and all of them were thankful that they had not been led astray by the evil counsels which had prevailed in the steerage.

"If you do not like the motto, I can give you another now," said Grace, when Paul joined the little party on the quarter-deck.

"The one you gave was unanimously adopted by the order," replied Paul.

"Was it, really?" asked Grace, laughing more heartily than before.

"Certainly it was."

"Did they understand its meaning?"

"Some of them did."

"If you like this one better, it is at your service: 'High aims produce noble deeds.'"

"While I hope we all believe in the English one, I think the members of the order prefer the French one."

"If they are suited, I am," replied Grace, cheerfully.

The ship was still going along under easy sail, though the weather promised to be unfavorable before morning. At eight o'clock, the starboard watch, with the first and third lieutenants in charge, took the deck, and the port watch went below. They were to be ready for duty at twelve. Everything on deck was as pleasant as a merry-making. None of the passengers were seasick.

Everything was not so lovely in the steerage, and it is necessary to go back a few hours in order to ascertain what passed among the mutineers.



CHAPTER VI.

IN THE STEERAGE.

After the students finished their supper, those who had decided to rebel against the authorities of the ship retired to the mess-rooms, agreeably to the instructions of the leaders. There were forty-four of them, including the eighteen runaways who still remained in the ship as seamen, and who were the real mischief-makers, forming a class by themselves, hardening their hearts in sheer ugliness against the discipline of the ship. In their exploit with the Josephine, they had "bucked" against authority, and had suffered the consequences, which unfortunately had not produced a favorable impression upon them. They were disposed to do the same thing again.

The rest of the mutineers belonged to a different class. They were generally well-disposed boys, fond of fun and excitement, not exactly the "lambs" of the flock, but certainly not the black sheep. If some of them had assisted in creating the confusion during the drill, they had not done so with any malicious purpose, as the runaways had, but from a thoughtless love of sport and excitement. They would never have thought of such an expedient as rebellion if they had not been cunningly worked upon by the real mischief-makers. They were not strong-minded young men, who dare to do right under all circumstances. With good impulses in the main, their principle was not hardened into that solid element which constitutes a reliable conscience. They were easily led away, and believing they had a real grievance, they resorted to doubtful means for its redress.

Of this class Raymond had been the leading spirit. He would have resented the appellation of mutineer as an insult. All he expected and desired to obtain was an explanation; and he was confident that when two thirds of the crew mildly, and even respectfully, declined to do duty, the principal, either in person or by deputy, would come below to ascertain the nature of the difficulty. He had cautioned his party to be perfectly respectful to the officers, and especially to the principal and professors. If it was to be a mutiny in any sense of the word, it was to be a very gentlemanly one. Having reduced the intended rebellion to this mild form, he had no fear that the rough hand of Peaks would be laid upon them, or that the party would be driven by force from the mess-rooms.

"How do you suppose it will come out?" asked Hyde, one of Raymond's messmates, in a low tone, as a group of the rebels gathered in their room.

"It will come out all right," replied the leader of the mild mutineers, confidently.

"I'm not so sure of that," added Hyde, shaking his head. "Mr. Lowington is a great stickler for discipline; and he is not exactly the man to come below, and coax us to attend to our duty."

"I don't expect he will coax us to do it. But there are so many of us in the scrape that he can hardly do anything else."

"How many do you suppose there are?" inquired Hyde.

"I can't tell exactly, but I am satisfied that more than two thirds of the whole crew will stand out."

"I don't know about that."

"I know that every fellow in the ship is mad because the trip to the Rhine is given up; and I think that at least two thirds of them are mad enough to do something about it. I should not be surprised if not a single fellow answered the boatswain's call."

"I should; for I know half a dozen who have said they should; but they mean to let the principal know that all the fellows are dissatisfied with the idea of being cheated out of the run into Germany. I'm not sure that this wouldn't be the better way."

"O, it wouldn't amount to a row of pins! What does the principal care whether the fellows are satisfied or not? We must do something to prove that we are somebody," persisted Raymond.

"That's so," added Lindsley, earnestly. "I don't believe in all Howe's nonsense, but there is a good deal of truth in what he says. We are not common sailors, but the sons of wealthy men. We were sent to this ship because we could have a chance to see the world while we were getting an education; and it isn't just the thing to deprive us of the privileges we pay for. Of course we don't mean to make any row. If the principal don't choose to set us right, why, we must go to our duty, and make the best of it; but for one, I shall write to my father, and tell him just how the matter stands."

"That's the idea," responded Raymond. "I shall do the same thing, and I know my father will send for me immediately. My mother would be glad enough to have me go home."

"I'll tell you what it is, fellows," added Lindsley, warmly; "if about fifty of us will only hang together, we can have our own way. If we write home that we are dissatisfied, that the principal is rough on us, and won't let us see the country, we can blow up the Academy Ship higher than a kite."

"I think we have seen the country pretty well," suggested Wilde.

"Yes; but we are not to go into Germany," replied Raymond. "We are to go to sea, just because the new captain demands it."

"For my own part, I like the ship first rate, and should hate to have my father send for me," continued Wilde. "I don't believe there are a dozen fellows on board who wouldn't think it a hard case if they had to leave."

"Not if we are to be treated in this manner. If we are allowed to see the country, and have a good time, every fellow will be satisfied," replied Raymond. "But I think it will all come round right if we keep a stiff upper lip, and stand up for our rights. I like Lindsley's idea first rate. We can talk that up, and it will help us out, if nothing else will. We can easily get forty or fifty of the fellows to say they will ask their fathers to take them away from the ship if they don't have fair play. Then we can mildly suggest the idea to Mr. Lowington; and, I tell you, he can see that the loss of fifty of us would make an end of his big idea."

"I'm not ready to say I will ask my father to take me out of the ship," protested Wilde.

"I am," said Raymond.

"So am I," added Lindsley.

"And I," chimed in others.

"While we are waiting, suppose we circulate the idea."

At this moment Tremere and Willis, who were the other occupants of the mess-room, came in, and the proposition was stated to them.

"No!" exclaimed Tremere, very decidedly. "When the boatswain pipes, I shall go on deck, and do my duty as long as I have two legs to stand on, and two hands to work with."

"So shall I," added Willis. "I don't believe half the stories that have been told through the ship. In my opinion, if any of the fellows don't go down the Rhine this year, it will be because they are rebels or runaways. I shall take my station when the boatswain pipes, if I am the only fellow on board that does so."

"If you haven't spunk enough to stand up for your rights, you deserve to lose them," replied Raymond, disgusted with the answers of those high-toned students.

"My rights! Humph! I value them too highly to throw them away by any such stupid conduct as you suggest," answered Willis.

Lindsley, thinking that Tremere and Willis did not understand their plan, volunteered to explain that they did not intend to use any violent measures; that they meant to be entirely respectful to the officers and to the faculty.

"Disobedience is disobedience, whether you are respectful or disrespectful; whether you say 'no' squarely, or 'excuse me;' only the former is less cowardly than the latter," said Tremere, in reply. "As I understand the matter, you are getting up a row, asking fellows to write to their fathers to take them away from the ship."

"All hands, up anchor, ahoy!" shouted the boatswain, at the main hatch.

Raymond returned to the mess-room, while the two incorruptible fellows hastened to their stations on deck.

"Now we are in for it!" said Lindsley.

"Let us stick to our text," added Raymond, fearful that some of the party would back out as the decisive moment had come.

"Ay, ay! Stick to the text!" added Hyde.

"Hold on, and I will see how many fellows answer the call," continued Raymond, nervously, as he stationed himself at the door of the room, where he could see the seamen who went up the ladder.

"Count them," said Lindsley.

It was an exciting moment to the rebels, for however real they believed their grievances to be, probably not many of them were satisfied with the expediency or the justice of the measure they had adopted to redress them.

"Only twelve!" exclaimed Raymond, when the last of the faithful had ascended the ladder.

"That's bully!" said Hyde, rubbing his hands with satisfaction at the assumed success of the scheme.

"Are you sure that you counted right?" inquired Lindsley.

"I counted ten, and added Tremere and Willis to the number, for they had gone up before I began. I didn't expect even as many as that would go."

But the enthusiastic rebel had made a blunder. A portion of those who intended to obey orders, having no motive for remaining below, had gone on deck as soon as they finished their suppers. Sixteen of these, added to the twelve who went up from the steerage, made the twenty-eight who first answered the call.

"Only twelve!" repeated Hyde.

"If we have nearly the whole crowd, we can do something more than explain our position," said Lindsley.

"I'm not in favor of doing anything more than that," added Raymond, shaking his head.

"All hands, up anchor, ahoy!" shouted the boatswain, the second time, at the main hatch.

"It's all right," said Howe, appearing at the door; "not a fellow answers it."

"Only a dozen have gone on deck in all," added Raymond.

"Is that all?" asked the runaway.

"That's all; I counted them."

"Good! We shall make a big thing of it," answered Howe, as he left the room to look into others, in all of which it is safe to say that the strong-minded rebels were engaged in stiffening the backs of the weaker ones, for a large portion of them were in a very novel position.

"Some one will be down very soon to know what the matter is," said Hyde, fidgeting about his berth, where he had stretched himself to await the time.

"Who shall speak for us?" asked Raymond.

"You shall," replied Lindsley.

"Very well; I will do the best I can," answered Raymond, modestly. "I am to say, very respectfully, that the fellows are dissatisfied with the idea of going to sea, and giving up the trip to the Rhine."

"Yes; and we respectfully request that the principal will make good his promise to take us into Germany," added Hyde.

"Don't you mean to say anything about the letters to our fathers, asking them to take us away from the ship?" inquired Lindsley.

"That looks a little like a threat," objected Raymond. "Besides, we don't know how many fellows will agree to send such letters."

"Let us go round and see," suggested Lindsley.

"We will, if there is time."

As the record of the preceding chapter testifies, there was an abundance of time to carry out this or any other preliminary measure. Raymond and Lindsley proceeded to canvass the rebels in regard to the letters. The eighteen runaways were ready to assent to anything, but only about half of the others were willing to give in their allegiance to what they regarded as a mean scheme. Some even declared they would back out if anything of this sort was to be attempted. Raymond was politic enough not to press the measure very hard, and he returned to his room with the names of only thirty, instead of fifty, which he had expected to obtain.

"That's enough to make a show with," said Lindsley.

"But I don't intend to say anything about the letters to the principal, if he is willing to do the fair thing by us."

"What are they about on deck? It is half an hour since the boatswain piped all hands," said Hyde, jumping out of his berth.

"I'm sure I don't know," replied Lindsley, uneasily. "I should think they had found out by this time that something was the matter."

"I know one thing," said Wilde, with a significant shake of the head, as though he had made an important discovery.

"What's that?" demanded the others, in the same breath.

"They have put the grating on the main hatch, so that we can't go on deck if we wish to do so," replied Wilde, who had begun to be regarded as one with a weak back.

"No matter for that," answered Raymond, with an effort to laugh, though he was far from being satisfied with the situation as indicated by the closed hatch. "As we don't want to go on deck, it makes no difference to us."

"That's so," added Lindsley. "They have put on the grating to make a show. They can't do anything while sixty of the crew are below."

"Are you sure there are sixty?" asked Hyde, doubtfully.

"Take twelve from the whole crew, and it leaves sixty. But count them for yourself, if you are not satisfied with my figures."

"I will;" and he left the mess-room for this purpose.

He had the curiosity to look up the hatch, and made another discovery—that the stout boatswain was there, apparently keeping watch. The faithful had just marched to the quarter-deck, to indicate that they were willing to "keep their own counsel," as requested by the principal. Hyde returned to the room to report the fact. It looked like decided measures to him.

"I think we are caged," said he.

"No matter if we are," replied Raymond, with a sneer. "One thing is plain enough; they can't go to sea without us."

"No; twelve fellows can't get the anchor up, even with the help of Peaks," added Lindsley.

"O, we've got them," persisted Raymond. "We are a majority of all hands, even if you count the officers on the other side; and I happen to know they are as much dissatisfied as we are."

Hyde left the room again, and succeeded in making a count of all the seamen in the steerage.

"Humph!" snuffed he, on his return. "You counted the fellows with your elbows, Raymond. There are only forty-four in the steerage."

"Forty-four!" sneered Raymond. "Does twelve from seventy-two leave forty-four?"

"No; but twenty-eight from seventy-two leaves forty-four," retorted Hyde. "I'm sure I'm right."

Raymond was not satisfied, and counted for himself, but with no different result; and Lindsley suggested that some of the twenty-eight were on deck when the boatswain's call sounded.

"Well, what's the odds?" demanded the mortified leader of the moderate party. "They can't get the ship under way with twenty-eight much better than with twelve. It takes thirty-two to man the capstan. What are they doing on deck?"

"I don't know," replied Hyde. "I was going up the ladder to ascertain, but Peaks drove me away. I heard them lowering boats, but I could not make out what they intend to do."

"O, it's all right. You needn't fret about it," added the leader.

Probably no one was more disturbed than he. The lowering of the boats was discussed in full, but nothing could be made of it, though Raymond insisted that the ship could not go to sea while the boats were away. Half an hour later they heard the faithful on deck hoisting up the boats. Hyde stood at the door of the mess-room watching the hatchway, for any chance revelation of the principal's intentions. The same doubt and uncertainty, as well as curiosity in regard to the movements on deck, prevailed in all the other mess-rooms. It had been agreed that all hands should remain in their rooms; but this agreement was now violated, and most of the mutineers were gathered at the doors, anxious to obtain intelligence from the deck.

Suddenly the grating was removed from the hatch.

"All hands, up anchor, ahoy!" shouted the boatswain, for the third, and, as it proved, the last time.

But no one came below to remonstrate, or ask for the explanation which a majority of the rebels were now exceedingly anxious to give. The moment the call sounded, Wilde walked towards the ladder.

"Where are you going?" demanded Raymond, angrily.

"I have had enough of this thing," he replied, and, without waiting for any further parley, went on deck, though the rebels hissed him.

Another seaman from one of the other mess-rooms followed his example, though Howe seized him by the collar, and attempted to detain him by force. Fortunately he was a stout fellow, and shook off his assailant. A storm of hisses and abuse followed him as he went up the ladder. Doubtless this treatment of the weak-backed, as they were considered, deterred others from imitating their example, for the faithful had only these two added to their number.

"I'm glad we are rid of them," said Raymond. "Fellows with weak backs don't do us any good."

"They add to our number, at any rate," replied Hyde, who, if he could have escaped the odium of the movement, would have gone on deck himself.

"No matter for that; we have forty-two left, and the ship can't go to sea without our help," added Raymond.

"I'm not quite sure of that," answered Hyde.

"No matter if she does go to sea," said Lindsley.

"But she can't go," persisted Raymond. "All we want is a chance to state our grievances; and the principal is not going to let us stay down here a great many days without knowing what the matter is."

"Hark!" said Hyde, as the boatswain's whistle sounded on deck.

"Man the capstan!" shouted Goodwin, the first lieutenant.

"Doesn't that look as though the ship was going to sea?" added the sceptical Hyde. "I tell you what it is, fellows, we are sold!"

"Sold? Not a bit of it! We are in the winning boat."

"Not exactly."

The rebels listened to the merry pipe of those who walked around the capstan, and heard the grating of the chain cables as they passed through the tiers into the lockers in the hold. It was plain enough that thirty-two hands had been found to man the capstan, for the anchor was certainly coming up from its miry bed. These sounds produced something like consternation among the mutineers, for they indicated at least a partial failure of the scheme in which they had trusted for redress.

"Go ahead!" shouted the executive officer through his trumpet.

"Go ahead?" repeated Raymond, as he went to the sky-light. "Not a sail has been set."

"But she is moving," said Hyde. "I see how it is. They have taken a tug-steamer."

"They are not going to tow the ship to Belfast," answered Raymond, as he went to one of the port gangways from which the mess-rooms opened. "There goes the Josephine, under sail. In my opinion, they are only dropping down to another anchorage. The principal will not think of such a thing as going to sea with only thirty seamen. It isn't safe to do so."

"When it isn't safe, Peaks will be down here, and you will have to turn out and do duty," said Hyde.

At that instant, as if to verify the prophecy of the croaker, the stalwart boatswain, with the assistance of the carpenter, lifted the grating off the main hatch. Most of the rebels retreated to their rooms; but it was a false alarm, for the two adult seamen, instead of coming below themselves, only lifted up the ladder, and drew it on deck, restoring the grating when it was done.

"That looks like something," said Lindsley.

"I tell you we are sold," added Hyde. "The principal isn't coming down here to ask us for an explanation. It isn't his style."

"Don't croak any more, Hyde," protested Raymond, in disgust.

"I only say we are sold, and you can't deny it."

"Wait and see."

They did wait, and after a while they heard the order to shake out the topsails. Looking up through the main skylight, they saw lieutenants, masters, and midshipmen, on the yards. They listened to the voices of Paul Kendall, Gordon, and Haven, issuing orders which were usually given by the lieutenants. From what they saw and what they heard, they were enabled to arrive at a tolerably correct solution of the means by which the ship was at present handled. They understood that the larger portion of the officers were doing duty as seamen, while the past officers were serving as volunteers under the captain.

"We might as well cave in, and go on deck," said Hyde, after the movements on deck had been thoroughly discussed.

"Humph! You can't get on deck, to begin with," replied Raymond. "But I haven't any idea of giving it up so."

"The plan has failed—that's plain enough," added Hyde.

"Not yet."

"I think it has. We are whipped out, and the sooner we make our peace with Mr. Lowington, the better it will be for us."

"If you mean to back out, say so, Hyde."

"I don't want to back out while the rest of the fellows stick."

"How will it do to send a messenger to the principal, state our grievances, and have the thing over?" suggested Johnson.

This idea met with considerable favor, but the principal objection to the measure was, that the messenger could not get on deck, as the ladder was removed from the main hatch, and the forward one was closed. The ship careened, the waves dashed against the bow, and it was evident that she was going to sea in good earnest. A large portion of the rebels were now studying up a plan to get out of the scrape, rather than to establish their rights. The boatswain's whistle sounded on deck, and all hands were piped to muster. Vainly the mutineers tried to ascertain what was going on, while Mr. Lowington was making his explanation to the faithful; but the parties were on the quarter-deck beyond their sight and hearing. Only the applause which followed Grace's proposition to decorate the members of the Order of the Faithful reached their ears. The ceremony itself, which took place in the waist, indicated that those on deck were having an exceedingly jolly time, though the nature of the performance was not understood. Then, when the Grand Protectress was elected, the hilarious mirth of the Faithful was positively sickening to the rebels. Those on deck appeared to be making fun of those below, for what else could they be laughing at, since the refusal of the rebels to do duty must be the all-absorbing topic on board? The situation was very unsatisfactory to the mild mutineers, and not very hopeful to the runaways.

"Let them laugh," said Raymond, whistling up his courage, so that he could maintain the dignity and firmness of a leader. "If we hold out, we shall carry our point. I have looked at the tell-tale, and the ship is headed to the north-west. If the course means anything, it means Belfast."

"What's the use of talking?" exclaimed Johnson. "The plan I proposed is the only one now. I move you we send a messenger to the principal."

"You can't get on deck," retorted Raymond.

"We can hail some one on deck, or knock at the door of the main cabin."

"It looks like backing out," added Lindsley.

"That is what we shall have to do in the end, and we may as well do it first as last," said Hyde.

"Hold on! Here comes Howe," continued Lindsley. "Let us hear what he has to say."

"I don't care what he says," muttered Hyde, who, like many other of the mild rebels, was not willing to join hands with the virulent and intense ones.

"I say, fellows, we are not making much on this tack," Howe began, as he joined the group at the door of the mess-room. "We are going to have a meeting abaft the foremast, to decide what shall be done next. All hands are invited."

Howe moved on to extend the invitation to others.



CHAPTER VII.

THE VISIT TO THE HOLD.

"I don't attend any meeting with those fellows," said the prudent Hyde, as the rebels began to gather at the place indicated.

"There is no harm in hearing what they have to say," replied Lindsley.

"I don't care what they have to say. I won't have anything to do with them. In my opinion they are trying to get us all into a scrape."

"You are in one now, and you may as well be hung for an old sheep as a lamb."

"I would rather be hung for a lamb," answered Hyde, turning on his heel, and walking as far from the foremast as the limits of the steerage would permit.

About a dozen others followed his example, for the meeting was understood to be called by the runaways, who represented the most virulent type of rebellion. They had already lost all their privileges for the season, which could be restored only by the grace of the principal, and they had nothing to sacrifice. It was not prudent to enter into their counsels, and the mildest rebels, like Hyde and Johnson, avoided them.

"We are not making much on this tack," said Howe, when the rebels, who chose to take part in the meeting, had assembled.

"That's so!" exclaimed Lindsley.

"Well, what's to be done? That's the next question."

"Nothing," added Raymond, who dreaded any extreme measures, and did not mean that Howe's party should obtain control of the movement. "As I understand the matter, all is going on right. We have only to hold out, and everything will end well for us."

"But we are shut up in the steerage. We are prisoners. The tables are turned upon us," replied Howe.

"Not at all. We have carried our point so far. We refused to do duty, and we haven't done any. I am in favor of fighting it out in this manner to the end."

"It is a milk-and-water affair as it is now, and won't amount to anything."

"What's the reason it won't?" demanded the champion of the mild party.

"Suppose the main hatch were opened, and the boatswain should call all hands—how many of us do you suppose would be left? There are a dozen of your chickens that would back down so quick it would make your eyes smart," added the champion of the intense party, pointing to the group which had collected around Hyde, who appeared to be forming a party of his own. "And the next time the call was made, a lot more would slump. Before long we should be so reduced in numbers that the brig would hold us all, and a few of us would have to stand the punishment for the sins of the crowd. You led us into the scrape; now you must help us out of it."

"Who led you into it?" asked Raymond, indignantly.

"You and your fellows, of course," retorted the heavy champion.

"I don't see it."

"Don't you? Then you are as green as a tame pigeon," continued Howe, smartly. "Our fellows—of course you know I mean those who ran away in the Josephine—are under the ban already. Did you suppose we were going into an affair like this alone? Not much! We went in because you did; to back up your movement. Now we are in it, you want to back out, and let your fellows show the white feather."

"I don't mean to back out," protested Raymond.

"But those fellows out there do," added the wily rogue.

"Well, there are thirty of us here, who will stick to the end. What do you say, fellows?"

"Of course we will," replied several, very mildly.

"Will you agree, upon your word and honor, to stick as long as any one does?"

"That depends upon circumstances," interposed Lindsley.

"I suppose it does," sneered Howe. "It isn't fair to leave us to bear the brunt of the whole."

"All we ever proposed to do was simply to refuse to do duty till we had explained our position to the principal," added Raymond.

"And kiss the rod, whether you get fair play or not," replied Howe.

"We can't do anything more than that. When the principal understands that over forty of us are dissatisfied, we have gained our point."

"Have you indeed!" flouted Howe. "Then I fancy you have already gained it, for he has found out that you are dissatisfied by this time."

"Well, what do you want to do?" demanded Raymond.

"It's no use to mince the matter. We have made a failure of it so far. The lambs on deck are having a good time, laughing, cheering, and carrying on—making game of us, no doubt, while we are shut up here as prisoners," replied Howe, rolling up his sleeves, as though he intended to do something savage. "We ought to make ourselves felt, which we haven't done yet, for the rest of the ship's company seem to regard our movement as a good joke, and to think we are having the worst of it. Well, I think we are; and we must make ourselves felt."

"Do you call it making yourselves felt when you are pounded on the head with belaying pins, as you were in the Josephine?" inquired Lindsley, dryly.

"We raised a breeze there, and we are bound to do it here."

"A breeze that first knocks you down yourself. I would rather have the wind blow another way," added Raymond.

"I don't mean to get up a fight, or anything of that sort."

"Well, what do you mean?" asked Raymond, impatiently.

"We have plans of our own; but we are not going to disclose them till we have some assurance that the other fellows will stand by us," answered the cautious leader of the intense party. "We are going to make ourselves felt."

"We are not going to agree to anything without knowing what it is," said Lindsley.

"And we are not going to let on to fellows that may go to the principal, and blow the whole thing. I will say this: If your fellows will pledge themselves, word and honor, to stand by us to the end, I will agree that the ship shall return to Havre, or some other port in France, within twenty-four hours, and that the tables shall be turned in our favor."

"How are you going to do it?" asked Lindsley.

"Leave that to me. I have a plan which cannot fail. Do the fair thing by us, and we will get you out of the scrape."

"I will agree to this, and nothing more: I will stand out till we have a chance to be heard," replied Raymond, who began to have some hope of the mysterious movements of Howe. "I will do nothing but stand out."

"We don't ask you to do anything else. We will do the rest, if you back us up."

"We don't back you up, for we don't even know what you are going to do."

"We will tell you what we are going to do."

"Hold on! Perhaps we had better not know anything about it," interposed Raymond.

"No, you don't!" exclaimed Howe. "We will tell those who will take the oath."

"The oath!" ejaculated Lindsley. "Are we joining the Knights of the Golden Fleece?"

"No, no! I mean the promise," answered Howe, impatiently. "Word and honor—that's all I want."

The runaway portion of the rebels were doubtless already familiar with the extraordinary means which was to turn the ship back to the ports of France. The others, who attended the meeting, were largely influenced by curiosity. They were intensely mortified at the defeat, which they were unwilling to acknowledge. It would afford them immense satisfaction to have the tables turned in their favor; but they were utterly unable to imagine what powerful machinery Howe and his associates could bring to bear upon the obdurate principal; how they were to compel him to put the ship about, and return to France.

The mild party retired to consider whether it would be prudent for them to enter into a compact of this description with such dangerous characters as the runaways. They were prejudiced against the measure, but victory in the undertaking, in which they had engaged, was so earnestly coveted, that they were tempted to join hands even with Howe, Little, Wilton, and other desperate fellows. When a person has once gone astray, the inducements to go farther increase. But Raymond and his friends were not quite willing to pledge themselves in advance to measures which they were not allowed to understand; and they finally agreed to bind themselves to secrecy, in regard to the nature of the scheme, if Howe would explain it on these terms, and then engage in it if it were not too wicked. The party returned to the foremast, and Raymond stated their position.

"That won't go down," promptly replied Howe, with his bullying, self-sufficient air. "We are to tell you what our plan is, and let you adopt it or not, as you please! No, sir!"

"We pledge ourselves beforehand to keep your secret, whether we join with you or not."

"We won't trust you."

"Very well," added Raymond, decidedly. "Nothing more need be said. Come, fellows."

The leader of the mild party turned on his heel, and moved aft, followed by his adherents.

"What do you suppose they mean to do?" asked Lindsley, as they halted under the skylight, near the middle of the steerage.

"I don't know; but it must be something desperate to compel the principal to put back," replied Raymond. "It may be to make a few auger-holes in the bottom of the ship."

"I wouldn't do anything of that sort," added Lindsley, shaking his head.

"No matter what it is; we offered to do the fair thing."

"Suppose you had agreed to keep still, and they had proposed to bore holes in the bottom of the ship; would you have kept your promise, and said nothing about it?" asked Lindsley.

"I would not have let them do it; and then there would have been nothing to conceal," answered Raymond.

"Precisely so! That's a good idea. Why not agree to their proposition, and then, if they mean to do anything which endangers the ship, we can easily prevent them from doing it," said Lindsley, who was exceedingly curious to know what the runaways wished to do.

Others were affected with the same desire, and their curiosity was rapidly overcoming their prudence. While they were discussing the question, Hyde and his party, seeing that Raymond and his associates had withdrawn from the runaways, came to the spot, and disturbed the conference with irrelevant questions. If all the mild mutineers could be induced to cling together, they could easily overrule Howe and his party. Just then, there was not that unity which alone insures success. There were actually three parties in the steerage, and it was necessary to reconcile them, or the rebellion would end in an ignominious failure. But this was found to be quite impossible, so far as Hyde and his party were concerned; for if the boatswain's call had sounded at that moment, they would have returned to their duty, if permitted to do so. Raymond would not consent to make terms with Howe, without the concurrence of all the others, including Hyde.

Howe was quite as much disgusted with the situation as any of the milder rebels. He had hoped and expected to drag them into any desperate scheme which might be adopted, and after Raymond and his party retired, he looked rather blankly at his friends.

"They are nothing but babies—little spoonies!" said he, contemptuously. "It isn't safe to do anything with them."

"Nor without them," suggested Spencer.

"I don't believe that," added Little. "They are in for it already. They will be held responsible for anything done below, as well as we. Let's go on with the job, just as we intended."

After considerable discussion, the suggestion of the little villain was adopted, with a modification, however, proposed by himself, by which the whole party were to be implicated in the mischief. No time was to be lost, for a portion of the faithful, who appeared still to be having a good time on deck, would soon come below to turn in. Howe and Little went to the main scuttle, which opened into the hold, and raised it.

"What are you going to do?" asked Raymond.

"We are going to hide in the hold, just for the fun of the thing," replied Little. "Won't you come down with us?"

"That's not a bad idea," suggested Lindsley. "When they come down to look for us, they won't find us. That will make a sensation, at least, and then we shall not be entirely ignored."

"Are you going to stay there all night?" inquired Raymond.

"Yes—why not?" answered Lindsley. "It is not quite so comfortable a place to sleep as the mess-rooms; but we can stand it for one night."

Even the mild rebels, Hyde and Johnson, were pleased with the plan, for it looked like an adventure. The persuasions of Lindsley induced them to yield whatever scruples they had. It would be a rich thing to have the principal or the officers come down into the steerage, and find it empty. There was still a chance to make the principal do something, even if it were only to call them up for punishment; for anything seemed better than being entirely ignored.

Little and Howe, each with a lantern in his hand, which he had taken from the lamp-room forward, led the way into the hold. All the members of the three parties followed; the mild rebels regarding the movement rather as a piece of fun than as anything which added to the guilt they had already incurred. When the last one had descended the ladder, Howe put on the scuttle, and the steerage was "like some banquet hall deserted," for the stewards were either on deck or in the kitchen, where they spent their leisure hours.

As soon as the rebels were all in the hold, they separated into three parties again, as they had been in the steerage. Little, with his lantern, went forward, where he was soon joined by the rest of the runaways; Hyde and his companions went aft; and Raymond's party remained near the main scuttle. The hold was divided into store-rooms, forward and aft, while the space amidships was devoted to the stowage of boxes, barrels, water casks, and other articles. The water tanks were near the heel of the foremast, where Howe and his party had located themselves. They contained the entire supply of the ship, while she was going from port to port, or lying in harbor. They had been fitted up under the direction of Mr. Lowington. The water was drawn from them by means of a pump in the kitchen, the pipe of which could be adjusted to either of them with screw connections.

"We must do the job quick, and get out of this place, or we may be fastened down here, as we were in the steerage," said Little, in a low tone, though he need not have troubled himself to use this precaution, for the dashing of the sea against the side of the vessel made so much noise, that those who were twenty feet distance could not have heard him.

"Are you sure we are not burning our own fingers?" asked Ibbotson. "My experience in the Josephine, when we were short of water, taught me what it was to be without it, especially when you have to feed on salt horse and hard bread."

"That's so," added Spencer.

"Can't we save some for ourselves?" inquired Wilton.

"What's the use? We shall return to Havre as soon as the officers find that the water tanks are empty," added Little.

"But why not save some?" persisted Wilton. "There are lots of bottles on the ballast, and a tunnel on the vinegar barrel. Hurry up, and fill a bottle for each fellow."

A dozen of the rebels rushed aft, and procured the bottles, while Little started the faucets which were used in drawing off the water, when it was necessary to clean out the tanks, or for use when the pump above was out of order. This was the precious scheme by which the intense rebels intended to compel the principal to return to port immediately. There could be no doubt that it would be an effectual one, for with no fresh water the ship could not remain a single day at sea without causing great discomfort, if not actual suffering, to those on board. This happy expedient had been devised by Little, and it was diabolical enough to be the invention of his fertile genius.

The bottles were brought up, and with the aid of the tunnel, a dozen and a half of them were filled—just enough for the Howe party, for they did not intend to look out for the comfort of those who would not fully join them in their plans. The water rushed from the tanks, and flowed away into the ballast underneath. The faucets were large, and in a short time the tanks were empty. As the ship rolled each way, almost the last drop in them was poured out.

"Now let us get out of here before we are fastened in," said Little, after he had adjusted the faucets.

"There will be a sweet row when they find out the tanks are empty," added Howe, fully believing that the party had now done something to make themselves felt.

"It will please me to hear them howl," continued Wilton.

"Keep your bottles out of sight," said Howe. "Don't let those fellows see them, or they will smell a mice."

"Don't you suppose they know what we have been doing?" inquired Monroe.

"How should they? The swashing of the sea made so much noise they couldn't hear the water running out," answered Little.

"Don't let on."

The party concealed their bottles under their clothing, and moved towards the ladder by which they had descended.

"What were you doing with all those bottles?" asked Raymond.

"What bottles?" demanded Little.

"We saw you take a lot of bottles from the ballast there," replied Raymond, whose party had been discussing the probable use to which they were to be applied, though they reached no satisfactory conclusion.

"Well, I'll tell you what they were for," answered Little. "We were going to have some fun, pelting them with stones, just as we used to play duck on shore, you know; but we concluded not to do so, lest the stewards in the kitchen should hear the noise, and make a row about it—that's all."

"Where are you going now?" inquired Lindsley, who was not quite satisfied with this lucid explanation—as though fellows engaged in a mutiny would care to amuse themselves pelting bottles!

"We have just made up our minds that it is not quite safe to stay down here any longer."

"Why not?"

"Suppose they should fasten us in?"

"Suppose they should? I thought you intended to stay down here," said Raymond, who concluded that the runaways were very fickle in their purposes.

"We did intend to do so; but we hadn't looked over all the ground. It has just occurred to us that the thirty lambs, who kiss the rod that smites them, would not come into the steerage to-night. It will take about the whole of them to stand watch, and if any of them go below, they will sleep on the floor of the main and after cabins, where they cannot be corrupted by such wicked fellows as you and I, Raymond. So, you see, if we can't get up any sensation by sleeping on the ballast, what's the use of making yourself uncomfortable for nothing. That's the idea. Let us go into the steerage, and turn in for the night."

"I don't believe in backing out," said Raymond, not very well pleased to hear Little class him with himself.

"Don't back out, then, my dear fellow. Stay here all night, and have a good time," added the little villain, as he ascended the ladder, and opened the scuttle.

"I'm not going to stay here if the rest don't," interposed Lindsley; and all the Howe party followed the runaways.

Hyde's party, seeing that all the others were retreating, came to the ladder, and asked for an explanation. Howe replied that the runaways were sick of the game, and had returned to the steerage; and the third squad followed the example of the other two. The hold was left as empty of human beings as the tanks were of water.

By this time the watch on deck had been stationed, and the rest of the crew were permitted to retire. As there was no danger that the mutineers would escape from the ship, the grating was removed from the main hatch; but a portion of the watch, including Peaks and the head steward, were posted near it, to prevent any seaman not wearing the white ribbon of the Order of the Faithful from coming on deck. Fifteen of the thirty who had done their duty came below to turn in. Their appearance created a sensation among the disaffected. Now they would ascertain what had been said on deck about their refusal to answer the call. Now they could hear, second-handed, the sermon which the principal had preached, and which they had heard the faithful applaud. Now, they could learn what terrible fate had been marked out for the rebels.

When the faithful came into the steerage, the first thing the rebels noticed was the white ribbons which adorned their breasts. Of course they wanted to know what it meant; but they felt a little embarrassed under the circumstances, and did not like to ask direct questions at first. They wished and expected the faithful to open the subject by telling them what a mistake they had made in not being "good." But the lambs did not say a word to them; did not appear to notice them, or to indicate by their actions that any unusual event was in progress on board. There was a great deal of silent skirmishing in the steerage. Raymond, who had always been pretty intimate with Tremere, as they both berthed in the same mess-room, continually threw himself in the way of the latter, in order to tempt him to speak of the evening's occurrences. Tremere was as silent as a marble statue, though he looked as composed and good-natured as ever; indeed, rather more so than usual.

"How's the weather on deck, Tremere?" finally asked Raymond, when no hint would induce the faithful one to speak first.

"It looks like a change. I shouldn't wonder if all hands were called to furl top-gallant sails and reef topsails before eight bells," answered Tremere.

"How did you get along working ship?"

"For further particulars, inquire of the principal," replied he.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Speech is silver, silence is golden."

"Humph!" sneered Raymond, puzzled by the singular replies of his friend.

"Yours truly," laughed Tremere.

"Why don't you speak?"

"I haven't learned my piece."

"You have learned a piece of impudence."

"'He that hath but impudence To all things has a fair pretence.'"

"Are you mad, Tremere?"

"'Though this be madness, yet there's method in it.'"

"Quit your quotations! What's that on your coat?"

"A coat-ation."

"If you are mad with me, Tremere, say so."

"'I am not mad! no, no, I am not mad!'" shouted the member of the Order of the Faithful, with appropriate gestures and expression.

"Come, quit fooling! Can't you talk sense?"

"I can and will; for

"'Want of decency is want of sense.'

"'In college halls, in ancient times, there dwelt A sage called Discipline.'"

"But you didn't go to school to the old fellow, Raymond."

"I believe you have lost your wits! Now, be reasonable, and talk like a sensible fellow. What is this?" asked Raymond, putting his finger on the white ribbon.

"A ribbon."

"What is it for?"

"For me."

"Who gave it to you?"

"The person who had it next before I did."

"Humph! How silly you are! Where did you get it?"

"On deck."

"But who gave it to you."

"The donor thereof."

"Who is the donor thereof."

"The one who gave it to me."

"If you won't answer me, say so. Don't try to make a fool of me."

"I usurp not nature's kindly office."

"Do you mean to insult me?"

"No; I mean to turn in, for I may be called before I have had my snooze out;" and Tremere, yawning as if he were bored and very indifferent, walked into the mess-room which contained his berth.

Those who had listened to the conversation were very much amused by it, and the rest of the Faithful took their cue from Tremere. Not one of them would answer a question or give a particle of information in regard to what had transpired on deck. All of them appeared to be astonishingly good-natured, and no one seemed to be disconcerted by the rebellion, except the rebels.



CHAPTER VIII.

SHORT OF WATER.

"They may play bluff as much as they like; but you had better believe there will be a sensation in the morning, if not before," said Howe,—after the fifteen members of the Order of the Faithful had retired to their rooms,—addressing Raymond, who manifested no little vexation at the cavalier manner in which he had been treated by his friend and messmate.

"What will that be?" asked the milder rebel.

"Wait, and you will see," replied Howe, mysteriously. "We didn't go down into the hold for nothing."

"What did you go down for?"

"You will find out soon."

"Well, I want you to understand that I didn't have anything to do with your plots and schemes," added Raymond, cautiously.

"You didn't! Who said you didn't? I say, Raymond, you are a good fellow to kiss the hand that smites you; and I hope you will keep on kissing it. What did you try to pump Tremere for, after you saw what he was up to?"

"I wanted to know what he was up to."

"Don't you know? It is a game of bluff. Those fellows pretend to be indifferent to what we are doing."

"They certainly seem to be very indifferent. Have you any idea what that white ribbon means?"

"Have I? Certainly I have. Can't you see through the side of the ship, when there's a port in it? That ribbon is to distinguish the lambs from the black sheep, like you and me."

"Pooh! What's the use of that?"

"So that the officers can tell them in the dark as well as at noonday. But Little has given those fellows a name already. He calls them the White Feathers. We must laugh at them, make game of them, whip them with their own weapons. Hark!" said Howe, suddenly turning his head towards the kitchen, near the door of which they stood.

"What's the matter?"

"They are trying the pump," replied Howe, as both of them plainly heard the sucking, "squilching" noise made by the copper pump, from which the cook was trying to draw water from the tanks below.

"What of it?" demanded Raymond, who did not see anything remarkable in the circumstance.

"Never mind; you will find out soon enough," answered the chief runaway, as he left his companion thoroughly mystified, and not a little alarmed; for it was evident that some terrible mischief had been perpetrated.

The pump sucked and groaned under the efforts of the cook, who had been directed to make a pot of coffee for the use of the watch, and was now trying to obtain water for that purpose. None would come, and it was plain to him that the pump was out of order. Taking a bucket and a lantern, he passed into the steerage, and opened the scuttle. The runaways observed him with intense interest; for the time had come when they were to "make themselves felt." The cook went down into the hold, and was absent about a quarter of an hour. He returned with an empty bucket in his hand, and hastened on deck with the alarming intelligence that the water tanks were all empty, which he communicated to the head steward.

As the tanks had been filled just before the ship left the dock at Havre, the head steward was not willing to believe the startling report. He went into the hold himself with the cook. By this time the runaways thought it prudent to keep out of sight, and all of them retired to their rooms, and most of them to their berths. The head steward tried the tanks, and was satisfied with the truth of the report. When the ship rolled, the faucets on the lee side poured out a few drops of water. Sounded with a mallet, the tanks gave forth only a hollow, empty sound. The steward was astonished and mortified at the discovery, for he was responsible for keeping the ship supplied with water, as well as with all other necessaries in the culinary department. He inquired very particularly in regard to the state of the faucets when the cook had first come below to draw water, and was assured that they were firmly closed. He lifted up some of the ballast, and saw that it was wet. He went to the well, where all the leakage of the ship is collected to be thrown up by the pumps.

The ship was regularly pumped out twice a day, and this duty had been performed just before the crew were piped to supper. There should have been but little water in the well; but there was enough to satisfy the head steward that the contents of the water tanks had flowed into it. Dipping one of his fingers into the water, he tasted it, and its freshness was another convincing proof of the fact.

"Has any one but the cooks and stewards been in the hold?" he inquired.

"Not that I know of," replied the cook. "I haven't been out of the kitchen since supper."

"Over forty of the students have been in the steerage since the ship sailed."

"The stewards told me that the boys were standing out."

"In my opinion, some of them have been in the hold, and started those faucets."

"You don't think they'd do that—do you?" exclaimed the cook.

"Some of them would sink the ship, if they dared. I think the principal did not manage this affair just right. He ought to have seized the young rascals up to the rigging, and kept them there till they were ready to do duty without grumbling. Now let us see if there is water in any of the casks."

"No, sir; the boatswain broke 'em out, and cleaned the casks, while we were in the dock."

The head steward took the mallet, and sounded upon the head of each cask. They were all empty; and it was clear enough that there was not a drop of fresh water in the hold, except that which was already mingled with the foul bilge-water under the ballast. The ship was going to sea, and both clouds and barometer indicated heavy weather. The steward was troubled, and immediately hastened to the principal with the alarming intelligence. He found Mr. Lowington in the main cabin, and announced the discovery he had made.

"It is a scheme to drive the ship back to port," added the principal, after he had satisfied himself, by questioning the steward, that the tanks had really been filled while the ship was in the dock.

"Well, sir, it seems to me that the plan must be successful," added the steward, with a grim smile.

"Doubtless it will be; but we will not return to Havre. We shall be off Cherbourg in the morning, and we will make a harbor there. But there must be some water on board."

"Only what is in the water-jars, sir. Possibly there are ten or fifteen gallons in all of them."

There was a large water jar in the steerage, and one in each of the two cabins, which had been filled just before the ship sailed. The steward was directed to draw them off, and save the water, to be dealt out as sparingly as the emergency might require. There were several tons of ice in the store-room, which had been filled at Havre; and there was no danger of any suffering for the want of the needed element. The principal went on deck with the steward, and observed that the wind was freshening, with a decidedly nasty look to windward. It might not be possible to go into Cherbourg the next morning with safety; and Mr. Lowington did not like the idea of being driven into port before the mutiny had been suppressed. The Josephine was half a mile to windward, under easy sail; and, in the present state of the sea, it was an easy matter to communicate with her, as it might not be a few hours later. He therefore explained the situation to Captain Shuffles,—who was still on deck with Grace and Paul, too nervous and too anxious to retire,—and directed him to call all hands.

The boatswain piped the call. Peaks and the head steward at the main hatch, in accordance with their instructions, would permit none who did not wear the white ribbon of the Order of the Faithful to come on deck. Hyde and his party proposed to return to their duty. They had had mutiny enough, and their leader, speaking for the whole, asked permission to be reported to the principal. The steward bore the message to him, while the twelve penitents waited at the ladder. The runaways remained in their rooms; but Raymond made an ineffectual effort to induce them to be firm.

"Come up!" said Peaks, when the principal appeared at the hatch, and gave the order.

"We wish to return to our duty, sir," Hyde began; "we are very sorry for our disobedience, and are willing to take the consequences."

"How many of you are there?" asked Mr. Lowington.

"Twelve in our party, sir."

"Will you conform, in every respect, to the requirements of the present occasion?"

"We will, sir."

"But they must join the order," interposed Grace, who had accompanied Paul to the waist. "They are not entitled to the white ribbon, for they have come in at the eleventh hour."

Mr. Lowington smiled, and directed the penitents to repair to the quarter-deck.

"I am so glad they have yielded!" said Grace.

"So am I. You can let them take the second degree to-night," laughed Paul.

"Yes; and that shall be a blue ribbon. The next ones that come shall have the yellow ribbon, and be the first degree. That's all the different colors I have," added Grace, as she hastened to her state-room to procure the material for the decoration of the penitents, who were standing before the principal, abaft the mizzen-mast.

"Are you really sorry for what you have done, or do you back out because your plan does not work well?" asked the principal of the delinquents.

"I am really sorry for it, sir," answered Hyde; and there is not a doubt that he spoke the simple truth.

"Have you been into the hold this evening?"

"Yes, sir," replied Hyde, promptly.

"For what purpose?"

"We only went because the others did; but we did not stay there long."

"Have you meddled with the water tanks?"

"No, sir."

"Has any one?"

"I do not know, sir. Down in the steerage, we were divided into three parties, because we did not agree very well;" and Hyde explained the views of each party, and the localities which they had occupied during their visit to the hold.

Mr. Lowington readily comprehended the object of the runaways, when they induced the other two parties to visit the hold. In fact, he saw the whole truth just as it was; that the Howe party had made the mischief from the beginning, and that the others were the victims of their cunning schemes. He believed that his plan was working well, since it was eliminating the comparatively innocent from the guilty.