The greensward, which came right down to the beach of coarse coral grit, rose undulatingly at a very gentle slope until within about three- quarters of a mile from the summit of the peak, when the slope became considerably steeper—probably a rise of one in five—to within a couple of hundred feet of the summit, when the slope took an angle of about forty-five degrees. But it must not be imagined that the very gentle slope of which I have spoken was uniform, for it was far from that; on the contrary, I had not advanced much more than half a mile on my way before I came to, first, a slight dip, then a rather stiff rise of a few hundred yards to a kind of ridge, upon surmounting which I found myself upon the edge of a wildly picturesque glen, or ravine, the steep sides of which consisted of finely broken ground interspersed with outcrops of lichen—stained rock and thickly overgrown with a tangle of bushes and flowering shrubs, with here and there a few graceful saplings or a clump of noble shade trees entwined with strange-looking and beautiful orchids. The cool, refreshing, musical sound of running water came up from the depths of the glen, although the stream itself was not visible from where I stood, while the subdued roar of a distant waterfall strongly tempted me to swerve from my path and follow the upward course of the glen. I surrendered myself to the temptation, rather erroneously arguing that every foot of rise must necessarily take me so much nearer the summit of the peak, whereas I eventually found that I had diverged almost at right angles to my proper course. But I was richly rewarded for my labour and loss of time, for at the end of a somewhat arduous climb of about twenty minutes I found myself gazing at as romantic and beautiful a bit of scenery as I had ever beheld.

I was in a deep hollow between two hills, the bottom of the hollow forming a rocky basin into which poured the water of a small stream, some ten feet in width, as it tumbled over a broad, rocky ledge some sixty feet above, and came foaming, lace-like, down the moss-grown face of the precipice. The pool, or basin, into which the water fell was some thirty feet in diameter, and apparently about four feet deep, the pebbly bottom showing with startling distinctness through the crystal- clear water. The steep sides of the hollow were grass-grown, with great, rough outcrops of granite rock showing here and there, out of the interstices of which sprang a great variety of beautiful ferns, and were overhung by a magnificent tangle of beautiful trees and bushes growing so thickly together as completely to exclude the sun's rays, bathing the whole scene in a soft, cool, delicious green twilight.

The water looked so clear, so cool, so altogether tempting, that I decided there and then to treat myself to the luxury of a freshwater bath; I accordingly stripped and sprang in, fully expecting to touch bottom. But, to my astonishment, the pool proved to be fully ten feet deep; moreover the water was icy cold, or appeared to be so in comparison with the tropical heat of the air; I therefore scrambled out as quickly as possible, and, dressing, resumed my ramble, greatly refreshed by my dip.

The hot air was heavy with the smell of wet earth, the spray of the waterfall, the rank vegetation that flourished riotously along the margins of the brook, and the mingled perfumes of a thousand varieties of strange and gorgeously tinted flowers, as I laboriously climbed the steep side of the ravine, after crossing the brook, on my way to the more open country beyond. But this soon changed upon my emerging from the ravine, giving place to the more healthful and invigorating scent of the salt sea breeze that came sweeping over the island and roared among the lofty branches of the trees, among the trunks of which I now wound my upward way.

I had now reached a park-like stretch of country, the surface of which was clad with long, rich, luxuriant grass, thickly dotted with clumps of splendid trees, many of which were of immense height and girth, promising a rich yield of valuable timber, while others blazed with vivid scarlet flowers instead of leaves. These open park-like expanses of country, however, were of comparatively limited extent, the trees for the most part growing closely together, while the space between their trunks was choked with thick undergrowth, consisting of shrubs, bushes, and long, tough, flowering creepers, so densely and inextricably intermingled that it was sometimes impossible to force a way through it, and long detours became necessary in order to make any progress. But there were other spots, again, which conveyed the idea of natural gardens, for in them little else than fruit-bearing trees were to be found, among which I quickly recognised the banana, the plantain, the peach, the orange, the lime, the custard apple, the granadilla, to say nothing of many other kinds to which I was a stranger; while raspberries and strawberries were to be found almost everywhere. And a little later on in my walk I came here and there upon patches of melon plants in all stages, from that in which the blossom was just opening to that of the ripe and perfect fruit. A particularly rich and luscious-flavoured purple grape also appeared to be exceedingly abundant. Needless to say, I sampled these various fruits as freely as discretion permitted, while I filled my pockets with others to serve as dessert to my dinner. This meal I discussed, luxuriously reclining upon a thick bed of soft moss surrounding a spring of deliriously cold fresh water, that came bubbling up out of the earth in the shade of a thick grove of aromatic pines which constituted the last belt of timber before the bare soil surrounding the summit was reached.

Finally, after I had rested long enough to recover in a measure from the fatigue of my unwonted exertions, I left the scented shadow of the pine grove and, emerging into the blistering sunshine, manfully set myself to climb the last three hundred feet of steep, bare ascent that separated me from the highest point of the island.

The reason for the absolute bareness of the cone became apparent the instant that I stepped out of the shadow of the pines, for I immediately plunged ankle-deep in a loose deposit of ashes and pumice-stone that yielded to my tread and slid away under me to such an extent as to make progress almost impossible. But I was determined not to be beaten; and at length, after a full hour's violent exertion, I found myself, breathless and with my clothing saturated with perspiration, standing, as I had expected, on the lip of the crater of an extinct volcano. The crater was almost mathematically circular in shape, of about a quarter of a mile in internal diameter, and fully five hundred feet deep; the sides of the cup were practically vertical, and everywhere so smooth that I could nowhere discover a spot where a descent into the crater would have been possible, even had I desired to go down into it. But I had no such inclination; for I could see all that I wished from the summit, the internal walls being absolutely bare, while the bottom was simply a lake of stagnant water, apparently not more than a few inches deep.

But if the interior of the crater offered little or nothing to attract the eye, it was far otherwise when I directed my gaze outward. The whole of the island, except the comparatively small strip that was hidden from me by the spreading rim of the crater, lay stretched out beneath me like a map, beautifully executed in relief and tinted by the hand of a master. Its groves, its brakes, its broad park-like expanses, its rocky glens, its picturesque ravines, its sparkling rivulets, its deeply indented coast line, its dazzlingly white beaches, the outline of its fringing reef, ay, and the long thin line of its barrier reef, with its spouting, leaping wall of snowy spray, reaching from north to south, and spreading far into the deep blue of the ocean to the eastward, were visible through that clear air with startling distinctness. Why, I could even detect the evanescent whiteness of the breaking surges far out beyond the barrier reef, where their crests were whipped into foam by the scourging of the fiery breeze. I considered that I commanded a horizon of nearly a hundred and twenty miles in diameter, yet throughout that wide stretch of ocean there was nothing visible save the island, no ship save the Mercury, floating like a tiny toy upon the placid, landlocked surface of the Basin. I keenly searched the horizon in every direction for signs of other land, but nowhere could I detect even the loom of it. We were absolutely alone here in our lovely island Eden; and there was no land in any direction near enough to cause us the slightest uneasiness as to incursions of hostile savages.

Two full hours, by my watch, did I spend upon the summit of the crater, slowly sauntering round its rim, feasting my eyes upon the surpassing beauties of the scene beneath and around me, and also sketching a rough map of the island for future use. Then, sated with enjoyment, and more than half-reconciled to the possibility that I might be compelled to spend the remainder of my life amid such glorious surroundings, I set about to effect my descent and return to the ship, following a route which I had mentally mapped out, as it seemed to promise easier going than the one by which I had ascended. Taking my time, choosing my ground, and winding hither and thither to avoid obstacles, I arrived at the beach just in good time to go off aboard with the last boatload of holiday makers, all of whom, though hot and weary with their long day's ramble, were full of enthusiasm at the prospect of making their homes on so lovely and fertile a spot and in such a perfect climate.

At eight o'clock that night Wilde ascended the poop and, assuming the direction of affairs quite as a matter of course, gave orders for all hands to assemble in the waist in order that the business of electing the members of council—who, in conjunction with himself, were to frame the laws and order the affairs of the community—might be proceeded with. He opened the proceedings by explaining in detail precisely what the duties of the council were to be, incidentally mentioning the fact that, in consideration of the onerous and responsible character of those duties, the members would be absolved from the performance of any and every other kind of work. He dwelt at some length upon the qualifications which he considered indispensable for the efficient discharge of the duties of a member of council, enumerating, among others, wisdom, discretion, organising ability, and the faculty of anticipating and providing for the future needs of the community; and then himself proceeded to propose the six persons whom he considered best fitted to fill the office, all of them being chosen from among the emigrants!

At this stage of the proceedings Gurney promptly rose and intervened. He said that he fully agreed with the chairman both as to the necessity for extreme care in the choice of persons to fill positions of such heavy responsibility, and also as to the qualifications required in the holders of such positions. But, while he had nothing to say against the persons proposed by the chairman, he was of opinion that there was one person in the ship who, despite his extreme youth, was at least as fully qualified as any other individual among them to fill satisfactorily the position of a member of council, and who, moreover, had fully earned the distinction by piloting them to this beautiful island. He presumed that he need not add that he referred to young Mr Troubridge, to whose exceptional skill as a seaman and a navigator they all owed so much!

These remarks were greeted with so much enthusiasm that it was with the utmost difficulty I succeeded in making it understood—to Wilde's manifest relief—that for certain good and sufficient reasons I must decline to accept the proffered office. But, I continued, it seemed to me not only a mistake but distinctly invidious that the seamen should be entirely excluded from the governing body; and I considered that, in common fairness to them, two at least of their number—to be chosen by themselves—ought to be included.

This proposal also was loudly applauded; and, after a great deal of rather heated discussion, Polson and Gurney, as representative of the officers and crew of the ship, were duly elected members of council; the other four being William Fell, once a solicitor's clerk; Henry Burgess, lately a colliery agent; John Monroe, formerly a builder; and Samuel Hilary, late agricultural labourer. These four last, as may be readily understood, owed their election not so much to their superior qualifications as to the fact that they were red-hot Socialists, full of plans to enable everybody to enjoy a maximum amount of comfort at the cost of a minimum of labour; and they proved the sincerity of their doctrine by securing their own election to posts which freed them from the necessity to labour for themselves.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

AN IMPORTANT TALK WITH GURNEY.

Immediately upon the completion of the election, Wilde, in the plenitude of his zeal and eagerness to taste the sweets of power and authority, insisted on calling a meeting of the council, to meet there and then in the poop cabin, for the purpose of arranging the proceedings of the morrow. When the sitting was over, Polson told me that the very first proposal submitted by the president was that the ship's sails should all be unbent and taken ashore to form tents for the people to live in; and that, next, the ship should be stripped to a gantline, and her spars and rigging—together with as much of her bulwarks as might be required— worked up into a raft for the conveyance of cargo to the shore. Of course Polson, with the memory of the conversation that had passed between him and myself on that very morning still fresh in his mind, stoutly opposed the proposal, adducing the arguments that I had used against such a proceeding, and adding to them his own, with such success that not only was the proposal negatived, but he actually succeeded in carrying another to the effect that half a dozen hands under me were to be told off for the express purpose of giving the hull, spars, standing and running rigging, and sails a thorough overhaul, and executing such repairs, etcetera, as might be found necessary to bring the ship to, and maintain her in, a condition of perfect fitness for service at a moment's notice!

This result achieved, the boatswain was quite content to let Wilde have his own way in all other respects, with the result that it was quickly arranged that the hatches should be lifted the first thing after breakfast on the following morning, the cargo overhauled as far as possible, and room made by transferring to the shore such portions of it as were not likely to be injured by exposure to the weather; also that the live stock, consisting of some three dozen fowls, together with a boar and two sows, were to be landed and allowed to run wild for a week or two, until proper quarters could be prepared for their reception, in order that they might improve their condition. The mention of live stock produced another weighty argument in favour of the proposal just carried by Polson, for it elicited an expression of opinion that horses and horned cattle, as well as sheep, were urgently required by the colonists, and ought to be procured at the earliest possible moment.

"What d'ye think of the arrangement, Mr Troubridge?" asked the boatswain, when he had brought his account of the proceedings to a close.

"I see nothing to find fault with in it," I replied, "except that I think you are acting unwisely in meddling with the cargo before providing a receptacle for it ashore. I believe it highly probable that when you begin to break out the cargo you will find many things that must necessarily be kept under cover, if they are not to be ruined by exposure to the weather; and what will you do with them? Strike them back into the hold? If so, you will be giving yourselves double trouble, and delaying instead of expediting matters."

"Well, but what else can we do? What would you have advised if you'd been in my place?" demanded Polson.

"I should have proposed building a storehouse big enough to receive the whole of the cargo before removing the hatches," replied I. "The job could easily be done. A few poles cut up there among the hills and brought down to the shore, a sufficient quantity of wattles to form the roof and sides, and a covering of coconut-palm leaves, and there you are. We saw plenty of such structures among the islands that we visited before arriving here, and I remember that everybody remarked how easily they might be built."

"Now, why the mischief didn't I think of that?" exclaimed the boatswain, smiting his knee with vexation. "Of course that's the proper thing to do. Oh, Mr Troubridge, why didn't you let yourself be elected a member of council, sir? You've an old head, although it is on young shoulders; and you'd have been worth more to us than Fell, Burgess, Monroe, and Hilary all lumped together."

"I refused, Polson," said I, "because, as you must have been aware from the first, I absolutely and utterly disapproved of the whole affair from beginning to end. You started wrong, in the first place, by stealing the ship and cargo from those to whom they lawfully belonged. That is piracy; an act for which some of you may yet be made to smart. But apart from that, I am strongly of opinion that you are starting this community upon totally wrong lines. You have already heard me say, more than once, that I have no belief in, or sympathy with, the principles upon which Wilde proposes to rule this settlement. I do not believe they will be found to work satisfactorily; and therefore I will have nothing whatever to do with the scheme."

"Yes, yes, I know, Mr Troubridge; I've heard you say all that afore," answered Polson with some impatience. "But, all the same, I can't for the life of me see what's wrong with the plan. As for what you calls our act of piracy, well, there's no gettin' away from it that if ever we was found out, some of us would get 'toko' for that job, and I expect that I should be one. But I dunno as I feels partic'lar oneasy about that, for I don't see how we're goin' to be found out. And the risk, such as it is, was worth runnin', for ain't we goin' to settle down here and live in peace and plenty and happiness all our lives?"

"You think so, Polson, I don't doubt," said I. "But wait a while until the schoolmaster's theories are put to the test of actual everyday practice, and then come and tell me what you think of them."

"All right, Mr Troubridge, that's fair enough; I will," answered the boatswain. And therewith he rose and, with a somewhat troubled countenance, left me.

The effect of this conversation became apparent when on the following morning, before breakfast, Polson came aft and announced to me that, upon further consideration of the matter, the council had decided to build a storehouse ashore before touching the cargo. And he followed up this communication by asking me for my idea as to what the dimensions of the structure should be.

"Oh," said I in a tone of indifference, "if you make it twice as long as the ship's hold, twice as wide, and about twelve feet high to the eaves, you ought to have ample room for the storage of everything, in such a fashion that you can get at any particular portion of the cargo without difficulty, and at a moment's notice. And let me give you another hint, Polson. If you are wise you will have a careful inventory taken of every item of the cargo as it goes ashore, with a record of the particular part of the building in which it is stored."

"Thank 'e, Mr Troubridge; thank 'e, sir; that's good advice, and I'll see as it's follered," answered the boatswain, walking away.

Now, I was quite determined to hold myself absolutely aloof from everything in the most remote degree savouring of participation in this mad scheme, for many reasons; but I had no objection to the dropping of a hint to Polson now and then, for I considered that by so doing I should strengthen my influence with him. I wanted him to acquire the habit of depending upon me to help him when he found himself in a difficulty of any kind; and there was also the possibility that in this way I might occasionally be able to induce him to put forward or support proposals that might be of the utmost advantage to my plans of ultimate escape.

The revised arrangement of the council was put into effect immediately after breakfast, the boats being brought alongside and all hands—except the members of council, myself and my gang, and a few of the idlers— sent ashore. The carpenter, with a gang of assistants, going up to the higher lands to select, cut down, and transport to the near neighbourhood of the beach a sufficient number of suitable trees and saplings to form the framework of the store, while another gang sought wattles wherewith to form the walls, the women and children meanwhile being dispatched along the shore, to collect the fallen leaves of the coconut-palms and bind them in bundles, prior to their transportation to the site of the store for use as thatch for the roof and sides of the building. A fourth working party at the same time was engaged in digging holes in the soil for the reception of the poles which were to form the corner and intermediate posts of the structure.

While all hands ashore were thus engaged, the council was sitting in the poop cabin, drafting the laws by which the community was to be governed—and making a mighty poor business of it, if the frequent outburst of voices raised in angry altercation might be taken as a criterion. As for me, half a dozen seamen were placed at my disposal thoroughly to overhaul the hull, spars, rigging, and sails of the ship; and I began my task by unbending all the sails that needed any repair, sending them down on deck, and storing them away in the sail-room prior to starting upon the repairs. This did not take very long; and pretty early in the afternoon I had my party at work on the poop, under an awning, cutting out worn cloths and inserting new from the stock of canvas carried for that purpose, ripping off the old roping and replacing it with new, and generally putting each sail into perfectly good and reliable condition. There was not so much of this kind of work to be done as I had feared; so it and the building of the warehouse came to an end together.

Then followed the discharging of the cargo, which was conveyed to the shore in boats, carried up from the beach on men's shoulders, or, in the case of the heavier packages, on hand barrows; a few there were so heavy that they had to be removed from the beach on rollers, but they were not many; and when the ship's hold was empty, and the whole of its contents transferred to the warehouse, there ensued a general overhaul of everything, and a detailed inventory was taken, showing precisely what articles and materials, and in what quantity, were at the disposal of the community.

The ship being empty, I seized the opportunity to careen her, examine her sheathing, go over it with mallets where it had become wrinkled with the straining of the hull, stripping off the worst of it and replacing it with new, so far as our resources would allow; removed all weed and barnacles, and re-caulked her seams where necessary. The next job was to smoke her for rats, with which she was overrun, and remove their carcasses; then we repainted her, inside and out, having plenty of paint for the purpose; after which we ballasted her with sand, putting a sufficient quantity into her to make her tolerably weatherly. Finally we gave her spars and rigging a thorough overhaul, fitting to her a new main topmast, the old one proving to be slightly sprung, and rove a considerable quantity of new running gear. The lower masts, bowsprit, mastheads, and yards were next repainted, the bright spars thoroughly scraped and revarnished, the standing rigging tarred down; and, last of all, the sails were rebent, and the old Mercury was once more ready to go to sea at practically a moment's notice.

All this work, with the small gang of men at my disposal, occupied the best part of six months in the doing. Meanwhile the remainder of the community had not been altogether idle, although it had already become apparent that there was a fairly liberal sprinkling of drones among them, and there was a steadily growing discontent among the more industriously disposed because of this, and because, also, Wilde's doctrines provided no means whereby the lazy ones could be compelled to do their fair share of work. But despite this, the aspect of the island had greatly changed—not altogether for the better, I thought—during the months of our sojourn upon it. In the first place, the warehouse had been so easily and quickly erected that a roomy, barrack-like structure had at once been built alongside it for the accommodation of all hands, pending the erection of separate dwellings of better appearance and a more permanent character for the several families. Then, many marriages had taken place, Wilde, in his capacity of chief magistrate, undertaking to tie the nuptial knot.

But the erection of two buildings by no means comprised the sum total of what had thus far been accomplished by the settlers. Small parties of prospectors had been sent out to ascertain the resources of the island; and, among many other valuable products, coal, iron, clay of exceptionally fine quality for the manufacture of bricks and tiles, marble, granite, basalt, limestone, pine, satinwood, teak, and sandalwood in exceedingly large quantities had been found. A brick and tile yard had been established over on the north-west side of the island, and large quantities of splendid bricks and tiles had already been made; a limekiln had been built, and was in full operation; and a large consignment of circular and other saws having been found among the cargo, a sawmill had been erected alongside one of the numerous streams, the flow of which had been utilised to drive the saws, and much timber had already been cut down and converted into planks and scantling. A considerable quantity of sandalwood had likewise been collected, with the intention of loading it into the ship and dispatching her with it to China, there to be converted into money, with which a cargo of tea and another ship were to be purchased and dispatched to find a profitable market, the proceeds of the cargo being expended to provide live stock and such other necessaries as the settlers might require. So much sandalwood indeed had already been collected that, to make room for it, it had been found necessary to discharge all but some eighty tons of the sand ballast that had been originally shipped, and the Mercury was now quite deep enough in the water to enable her to go to sea with safety at any moment.

The only thing that was worrying Wilde and the council, so far as this part of their plans was concerned, was the fact that I was the only navigator among them; and, well knowing how strongly I had disapproved of everything connected with the original scheme for the appropriation of the ship and her cargo, they feared that, if I were sent away to navigate the ship, I should betray them at the first civilised port arrived at, while without me the ship could not be sent to sea at all. I gathered this partly from the strenuous efforts that were now being made to induce me to throw in my lot with the rest of the settlers, and partly from Grace Hartley, between whom and myself a firm friendship had steadily grown up, and who, in her turn, had gained a pretty fair knowledge of the situation from Gurney. But I did not often see her, for she had been installed as schoolmistress to instruct the young folk of the settlement; while I, in conjunction with a young fellow named Meadows, who had served his pupilage with an architect and surveyor in England, had been set the task of making a detailed survey and plan of the entire island.

The affairs of the settlement had reached this stage when, on a certain evening, after all hands had knocked off for the day, Miss Hartley came to my side as we were leaving the large shed in which all meals were served, and, after a few casual remarks that gave us time to get out of earshot of the rest, said:

"I suppose, Mr Troubridge, after tramping about all day in the hot sun, as you have been, you feel too tired to come for a walk with George and me?"

"No, indeed I do not!" I answered. "I have grown quite accustomed to be on my feet all day, and now think nothing of it; indeed, I had it in my mind to take a stroll in any case. The evening is far too fine and beautiful to be spent under cover. But, may I ask, have you any special reason for giving me this invitation?"

"Yes," said Grace, "I have. The fact is, Mr Troubridge, that George is very anxious to have a chat with you."

"All right," I said. "I shall be very pleased. It is some time now since Gurney and I have spoken to each other. But do you know what he wishes to speak to me about? I hope there is nothing wrong."

"No," she said—"no; there is nothing actually wrong. But George will tell you all about it himself. Do you mind if we go up on to the Head? It will be delightful up there to-night, and we can talk without much fear of being overheard. I told George we would go there, and he will follow us."

And so he did, overtaking us about halfway up the rise.

"I must apologise, Mr Troubridge," he said, "for troubling you to come all this way after your long day's work; but the fact is that for the last month I have had it in my mind to speak to you, and the inducement to do so has been growing ever since. To come to the point at once, Grace and I have had enough of Wilde and his fantastic notions, and would like to cut our connection with the whole concern if it were possible. I am speaking quite freely to you, Mr Troubridge, for I know that you have been dragged into this business quite against your will, and—apart from what Grace has told me from time to time—I have drawn my own conclusions from your steadfast refusal to sign the Charter. Also, from what I have seen of you, I feel tolerably certain that whatever I may say to you in confidence will not be betrayed to others."

"Of course," said I, "you may rest assured of that. But what is it that you wish to do, Gurney; and in what way do you imagine that I can help you?"

"Well," said Gurney, "the idea has taken hold of me—and not me only, I may tell you, but a good many others, Wilde being one of them—that if a chance to quit this island and return to civilisation were to present itself to you, you would gladly seize it. And it is just this idea that has caused Wilde to hesitate about completing the loading of the ship and dispatching her under your command. Something, however, must be done soon; for the settlement is in urgent need of live stock, and many other things, which must be obtained by hook or by crook without much further delay. Now, I cannot speak with certainty, because I don't know, but by putting two and two together I have come to the conclusion that Wilde and certain other unscrupulous persons among his followers have it in their minds to fill up the ship with sandalwood, man her with a dozen or so of the forecastle hands in whom they can place absolute trust, and dispatch her to Canton under your command. But—and here comes in the villainy of the scheme—as soon as a landfall is made, you are to be quietly knocked on the head and hove over the side to prevent all further trouble. The ship is to be taken into port; she and her cargo are to be disposed of; another vessel and a cargo of tea are to be bought with the proceeds; a skipper secured; and the new ship is then to proceed to some good market where the tea will be disposed of, and the proceeds applied to the purchase of what is most urgently needed by the settlers."

"A very pretty scheme indeed!" I exclaimed. "But, Gurney, you must be mistaken as to their intention to do away with me. Why, the idea is monstrous; it means sheer, deliberate, cold-blooded murder!"

"Yes, it does," admitted Gurney; "and of course I may be mistaken, for I do not enjoy Wilde's full confidence by any means—we are far too antagonistic in every way for that. But let me urge you not to trust too much to the possibility that I may be mistaken, Mr Troubridge, for I do not believe that I am; and if it should happen to be you, and not I, who are mistaken, it would be bad for you, would it not?"

"It would," I agreed. "But forewarned is forearmed, Gurney; and I would take precious good care not to be caught napping. Was it to tell me this that you proposed this walk to-night?"

"Yes," answered Gurney; "to tell you that; and also to say that if what you have heard to-night should determine you to attempt an escape from the island, you may rely upon Grace and me to help you to the utmost extent of our power. Also, I want you to include us both in your plan. I think it will be quite worth your while to take us with you, Mr Troubridge; for you know something of my qualifications as a seaman, and I am sure I could be of service in carrying out your plans; while, as for Grace, well, if she can do nothing else, she can at least cook our grub for us. Now, what do you say?"

"I say that I will gladly include both of you in my plans, and there is my hand upon it," answered I, offering him my right hand in token of good faith. We discussed the matter for some time longer; and at length I said: "Now please leave me to think this matter out. What you have told me has taken me a good deal by surprise, and as yet I feel scarcely able to grasp the full significance of it. But I have no doubt that I shall get the bearings of it within the next hour or so. Meanwhile, I believe you are right in suggesting that it would be unwise to leave anything to chance; I will therefore endeavour to think out some practical scheme, and when I have done so we will have another chat. And now, good night! Good night, Miss Hartley!"



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

THE CRITICAL MOMENT APPROACHES.

I watched the tall, good-looking, well-spoken sailor, and the slim, willowy figure of his sweetheart gradually vanish amid the deep shadows of the bushes that bordered the path leading downward from the Head; and then, oblivious of the peril of rheumatism, seated myself upon the least dew-sodden boulder that I could find, and proceeded to think out the momentous communication that had just been made to me.

It was a glorious night. The full moon, some thirty degrees above the eastern horizon, flashed the whole sea beneath her, outside the reef, into a vast sheet of tumbling liquid silver, while her beams fell in a long line of tremulous radiance upon the placid waters of the lagoon, right up to the edge of the cliff upon which I sat. The sky was cloudless, and toward the zenith and away down in the west some of the larger stars beamed with that soft yet brilliant effulgence that is only to be seen within the tropics, but in her own neighbourhood the stronger light of the moon had eclipsed them all save the planet Venus that hung near her, glowing like a silver lamp. So brilliant were the moonbeams that even the ants, beetles, and other small creeping things that ran about my feet were distinctly visible, as were the tints of the flowers that bloomed everywhere, and some of which had the peculiarity of opening only at night. A soft and gentle breeze was blowing in from the sea, just strongly enough to stir and rustle the grasses and foliage about me, and to bring to my ears the deep and ceaseless thunder of the surf that beat everlastingly upon the distant reef.

The greater part of the Basin was still in shadow, including that where the Mercury lay, but the moon was high enough for her rays to reach the upper spars of the ship almost down to her topsail yards, and the dew-wetted spars and rigging gleamed as though inlaid with wires of silver. The settlement, temporarily built on the inner shore of the Basin, was almost as distinctly visible as though it were daylight, its scattered lights gleaming yellow through the gauze-like mistiness of the dew-laden atmosphere; and from it the slopes and undulations of the island delicately receded, until at the peak they assumed almost the ethereal softness of clouds. It was a glorious scene that the island presented, slumbering langorously under the brilliant rays of the tropical moon, more enchanting in some respects than when viewed in the garish light of the sun; and so strong was the enticement of its beauty upon me that, but for the dull cramping influence of the doctrines accepted by the settlers upon which to frame the guiding rules of their lives, I could without very much difficulty have reconciled myself to the idea of a sojourn there for the remainder of my days.

But I had already perceived unmistakable evidences of the blighting effect which was being steadily produced upon certain members of the community by the consciousness—which I think some of them were only now beginning to fully realise—that industry and individual effort were to count for nothing, and that the lazy, useless units were to live a life of inglorious ease at the expense of the hard workers. I foresaw that a time was coming when deadly strife would rage between the two sections; and the prospect was not enticing enough to induce me to throw in my lot with the rest. Yet, if I did not, my life would be in danger; for it scarcely needed Gurney's communication of an hour before to impress upon me the conviction that, sooner or later, Wilde and his followers would insist upon my giving in my adhesion to them or—taking the consequences of refusal. And it did not need the gift of the seer to forecast the precise character of those consequences. I had scouted the idea of deliberate cold-blooded murder when Gurney had suggested it to me, yet I had not forgotten that I had already been threatened with death as the alternative to undertaking the navigation of the ship, during the quest for a suitable island upon which to settle; and I had very little doubt that they would have carried out their threat had I persisted in my refusal.

Now I was again threatened with it. There seemed to be but two alternatives—submission or flight; and it was but the work of a moment with me to decide that flight was the more acceptable of the two. But how to accomplish it? I thought of the longboat; but to fit her for a long voyage in the open ocean, with any hope of accomplishing it, would need an amount of preparation that could not possibly escape notice. And to be detected in the making of such preparations would be to arouse such suspicion as must inevitably result in the complete defeat of my plans, followed perhaps by other consequences of a still more serious character; while to neglect them and attempt flight in the boat, just as she was, would be madness—an expedient only to be resorted to under stress of the direst extremity. Hour after hour I sat there racking my brains in quest of some practicable plan offering a reasonable prospect of success; but could think of nothing; the scheme upon which I finally settled being only one degree less mad than that of venturing to sea in the unprepared longboat. Such as it was, however, I determined to submit it to Gurney's consideration, and hear what he thought of it.

Accordingly, watching my opportunity, I contrived to get hold of Grace Hartley, on the following evening, after supper, and whispered to her that I intended to walk up to the Head again, and would be glad if she and Gurney would follow me to the spot where we had had our previous talk together. To which she replied that they would certainly do so; and half an hour later the pair joined me.

"Well, Mr Troubridge," exclaimed Gurney, as we met, "I hope this summons means that you have succeeded in hitting upon some scheme which will enable us all three to get away from here without delay; for I may as well tell you that the council have to-day decided to complete the loading of the Mercury and dispatch her to Canton forthwith. And, although Wilde did not say so in so many words, I have every reason to believe that the pretty little programme which I sketched out to you last night is to be carried through."

"So much the greater reason why you and I, Gurney, should make up our minds at once what is to be done," said I.

"Yes; you are right," answered Gurney. "For I have not yet told you the whole of the story, nor how it affects Grace and me. I, as one of the council, am to go in the ship, ostensibly for the purpose of transacting the commercial part of the business—the disposal of the ship and cargo, the purchase of another vessel, and of a cargo of tea, and so on; but actually—as I have only too much reason to fear—in order that, during my absence, Wilde may have an opportunity to force Grace to marry him."

"I see," said I. "Well, Gurney, the only scheme that I have thus far been able to think of is of so mad and desperate a character that I gravely doubt whether you will feel justified in having anything to do with it."

"Let us hear what it is, Mr Troubridge," answered Gurney. "It will have to be something pretty desperate to choke Grace and me off it; for I can tell you we are growing more than a trifle desperate ourselves."

"Well," said I, "to put the scheme baldly, I simply propose that we three shall run off with the ship, sail her to Sydney, hand her over to the authorities, telling the whole truth, and take our chance of what may follow. I doubt whether they would deal hardly with either of us. Miss Hartley is of course quite blameless; they would never dream of holding her in the least degree responsible for the theft of the ship and cargo; nor do I believe they would be very hard upon me, seeing that Wilde and the rest compelled me to fall in with their plans. And as for yourself, the fact that you had assisted me to restore the ship to her proper owners would probably be accepted as a set-off against your share of the crime of stealing the ship, especially in view of the fact that we had brought in a cargo of sandalwood in place of the much less valuable cargo which the settlers have appropriated. Now, what do you think of it?"

"Well," answered Gurney slowly, as he turned my plan over in his mind, "the proposal that two men and a girl shall attempt to navigate a ship of eight hundred tons from here to Sydney—a matter of four thousand miles or more, I suppose—has certainly, as you say, more than a suggestion of madness about it. Yet I believe that we could do it, Mr Troubridge—I was in Plymouth Sound, a trifle over two years ago, when a ship nearly as big as the Mercury came in. She was from Rio; and the second mate, an apprentice, and one ordinary seaman comprised the whole of her crew. She sailed from Rio with her full complement; and when she was only three days at sea an outbreak of yellow fever occurred aboard her. First one, and then another, and another of her crew was struck down; but the skipper would not put back. He had a fair wind, and he insisted that the men's best chance of shaking off the fever lay in keeping the ship at sea. And they did so, although the men continued to die until, by the time that they reached the latitude of the Azores, only the three I have named remained alive. Meanwhile, as the crew dwindled and the ship became short-handed, they snugged her down until at last they had nothing set but the close-reefed fore and main topsails and the fore topmast staysail, and under that canvas she entered the Sound, hove-to, and signalled for assistance. Oh yes, I am sure we could do it, provided, of course, that we kept our health; and we should have to take our chance of that. It would be hard work, certainly, but there are two of us, both fairly strong, and—as the second mate of that ship I told you of answered, when he was asked how they managed—one can do a lot of work with a tackle or two. And as to how the authorities might be disposed to regard my share of the stealing of the ship, I would take my chance of that. Gracie here can bear witness that I was never in favour of the scheme, and only joined in it with a good grace because there seemed nothing else to be done. Now, as to the best time for making the attempt, what is your idea about that?"

"Well," said I, "in view of the fact that it has actually been decided to send the ship to sea, I think it will be well to wait until the cargo is all in, and the hatches on. That will give us an opportunity to get all our traps aboard without exciting suspicion. Then, on the night of the day prior to the sailing of the ship, we three must go off to her, slip her cable, make sail—as much as we can manage—and trust that we may be able to reach open water before our flight is discovered. If the completion of the loading can by any means be delayed until the moon rises about an hour after midnight, so much the better."

"Oh, as to that!" answered Gurney; "the deliberate way of working that the people have got into will make it quite a week before the loading is finished, which will bring moonrise to somewhere about the time you mention. The moon will have taken off to about her third quarter by then; but even so she will give us light enough to find our way out through the reef, which is all that we need trouble about."

"Precisely," I agreed. "Then am I to understand that you and Miss Hartley definitely agree to throw in your lot with me in this desperate attempt?"

"Yes, Mr Troubridge, you certainly may," answered Gurney. "At least," he corrected himself, "I can answer for myself. And as to Gracie here, what say you, little woman?"

"I say, of course, that I would infinitely prefer to go with you and Mr Troubridge," answered the girl. "The only thing is," she continued, "that I am afraid I shall be a frightful trouble to you both. And yet I don't know; I can cook your meals for you; and I can steer the ship in fine weather, can't I, George?"

"Ay, that you can, as well as any man in the ship," answered Gurney. "I taught her myself, Mr Troubridge, long before you appeared upon the scene."

"I foresee, Miss Hartley," said I, "that, so far from being a trouble to us, you will be absolutely indispensable to our success. And now, Gurney, I think we had better part; for, under all the circumstances, I believe it will scarcely be wise for you and me to be seen very much together. Watch the progress of events in the council, and let me know if anything should transpire of a character likely to interfere with our plans."

On the evening of the following day, upon my return to the settlement from the scene of the surveying operations, I found awaiting me a formal intimation from the council of its determination forthwith to complete the loading of the Mercury and dispatch her to sea at the earliest possible moment; and I was instructed to deliver over all documents and papers of every kind relating to the survey of the island to my coadjutor, Meadows, who would henceforth have sole charge of the survey; also, I was to proceed on board the ship on the following morning, accompanied by the men—former members of the crew—named in the margin, for the purpose of submitting the hull, spars, sails, and rigging to a thorough overhaul, in order to ensure that the ship was fit and ready in all respects to undertake a voyage to China; and to prepare an inventory of such provisions and stores as might be required for the voyage. And, lastly, when these orders had been carried out, I was to report in person to the council and receive my final instructions relative to the voyage.

I found that my crew was to consist of twenty men, all told, namely, eighteen seamen, one cook, and a cabin steward; and of the eighteen seamen Gurney was to act in the capacity of chief mate, and Tudsbery, the carpenter, as second. Gurney, being a member of the council, was excused from participation in the overhauling operations, Polson—who was also a member of the council—being sent in his stead. I could not, at the time, quite understand the reason for this somewhat singular arrangement; for I did not for an instant accept the official explanation that Polson, from his former association with the ship as boatswain, was considered to possess a more intimate knowledge than Gurney of the minutiae of the ship's equipment. However, it was all made clear to me afterwards.

With these twenty men, then, I proceeded on board the Mercury on a certain morning, and proceeded to give her and all her gear a thorough overhaul, although I knew it to be simply a waste of time and energy, the overhaul having already been made, all defective or doubtful gear replaced, and the sails loosed and aired once every week since. Still, I did not in the least object, for it was all to my personal advantage that if perchance any trifling defect had been thus far overlooked, it should now be made good. While the rest of the hands, under Polson and Tudsbery, were going systematically to work upon the overhauling process I set the cook and steward to work to take careful stock of the contents of the lazarette, with the object of ensuring that there should be a sufficiency of provisions to last us through the voyage. I also had the water tanks emptied, and filled up with pure spring water. And while all this was being done a strong gang was put to the task of bringing down the sandalwood, loading it into the ship's boats, and bringing it alongside, when it was carefully stowed in the hold, the object being to so stow it as to make the ship receive the utmost possible quantity for which she had capacity.

On the fourth day the overhaul of the ship was completed; and on the morning of the fifth day I presented myself before the council, to hand in my report and receive my full instructions. The report was a very simple document, merely informing the council that the final overhaul had been most carefully executed; that no defects of any description had been discovered; that the supply of provisions in the lazarette had been found to be sufficient for the proposed voyage; and that I was ready to proceed to sea at a moment's notice. The report was received with a formal expression of the council's satisfaction; and I was then informed that as it was anticipated that the loading of the ship would be completed on the morrow, I was to make every preparation for the sailing of the ship on the day afterward, when the crew would be sent on board immediately after breakfast, and when I was to present myself before the council for my final instructions.

I left the apartment that had been dignified with the name of council chamber exceedingly well satisfied with what had transpired, and especially so at the information that the crew were not to join the ship until the day of sailing. For this was precisely the point upon which I had been experiencing a good deal of anxiety of late. For this reason. I was most anxious that the ship should go to sea with her hatches on, and the longboat at least properly stowed. But, on the other hand, I greatly feared that when matters had reached this point the crew would be ordered aboard, say on the evening of the day preceding the sailing of the ship. And, if this should happen, my plan of making off with the ship must almost inevitably fail, for it would be practically impossible for Gurney and myself to overpower the remaining nineteen of the crew, who, apart from other considerations, would certainly have their suspicions aroused as soon as Grace Hartley's presence on board should be discovered, as it soon must be.

I shrewdly suspected that this arrangement relative to the embarkation of the crew at the last moment prior to the sailing of the ship must be due to Gurney, who would, of course, perceive quite as clearly as myself how vital to our success such an arrangement must be, and I tried to get a word with him to ascertain whether this was actually the case. But I found it impossible to do so; and I accordingly devoted the remainder of the day to getting my chest aboard, taking possession of my cabin, and carefully studying the charts with the view of deciding upon the most desirable route to be followed on the voyage to Sydney. Late in the afternoon Gurney and Tudsbery also brought their chests aboard, but even then I was unable to get any private word with the former, because of the constant presence of the latter. Moreover, it appeared to me that Gurney was rather markedly avoiding me, a circumstance that caused me a good deal of uneasiness. But at the last moment, just as all hands were going ashore at the close of the day's work, my co-adventurer came and stood beside me at the gangway for an instant and, without saying a word, or even looking at me, felt for my hand, and thrust into it what seemed to be a small, tightly folded piece of paper, immediately afterwards passing through the gangway and down the ship's side. I waited until everybody else had left the deck, and then, carefully thrusting the paper into my breeches pocket, followed.

Arrived at length at the quarters that I occupied while ashore, I drew forth from my pocket what proved to be, as I had suspected from the feel of it, a sheet of paper folded into a very small compass, and, opening it, read as follows:—

"I have just learned, through the merest chance, that it has been arranged that the crew shall go aboard to-morrow, instead of next day, which means that we must act to-night. Please meet me, therefore, among the big rocks on the Basin beach under the South Head as soon after supper as you conveniently can; and, if I should not be there when you arrive, kindly wait for me. I have chosen that spot for our rendezvous on account of its secluded character, and because nobody cares to go there after dark."

This was awkward news indeed; for, as Gurney had remarked in his communication, it meant that we must act—that is to say, must make our escape—that same night, although the hatches were off, and all the boats were ashore. Of course the fact that the hatches were off was the merest trifle, for Gurney and I could soon clap them on and batten them down; but I did not at all like the idea of going to sea without even so much as a single boat on board; while, of all the boats belonging to the ship, I should most have preferred the longboat, because she was a fine, wholesome boat, and in the event of anything untoward happening we should stand a far better chance in her than in any of the others. However, there was no help for it; it would be better for us to escape without boats than not at all. And yet, when I came to think of it, there was no reason why we should go to sea entirely without boats; we should require one in which to make the passage from the shore to the ship, and surely it ought not to be beyond the power of two men—and a girl—to hoist one of the quarter boats to the davits, for, as Gurney had said, a good deal of work can be done with the aid of a tackle or two. And if we could hoist one quarter boat, why not both? Ay, and it might even be possible to get in the longboat as well, if time and opportunity permitted—but perhaps that was almost too much good luck to expect. Still, I had the germ of a plan in my mind, and I determined to talk to Gurney about it.

Supper, the last meal of the day, was served at seven o'clock, and was over and done with before eight, by which time it was quite dark, save for such light as the stars afforded. While this light was quite sufficient to enable one to see one's way about the island, it was not powerful enough to reveal objects at any great distance. The conditions were, therefore, quite favourable for our purpose, and when I left the building in which supper had been served I sauntered off in an aimless sort of way, as though going for a stroll toward the peak before turning in for the night. But when I had gone about a quarter of a mile, and had satisfied myself that no one was about—for the settlers were, as a rule, early birds, and usually turned in almost immediately after supper—I made a detour which took me, by way of a slight hollow, down to the inner beach, along which I passed towards the rendezvous mentioned by Gurney. This spot was situated beneath the cliffs on the Basin side of the South Head, where an outcrop of big basalt rocks occurred, and was always of so dark and gloomy and weird a character that it was generally shunned even during the hours of daylight, while at night time nobody ever went near the place if they could possibly avoid it. As I drew near it I once or twice fancied that someone was following me, and, thinking that it might possibly be Gurney, I waited to let him overtake me; but as nobody appeared I supposed I must have been mistaken, and went on again, presently arriving among the rocks. The next moment two figures emerged from among the shadows, and Gurney and his sweetheart stood before me.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

THE GREAT ADVENTURE.

"Ah! here you are, Gurney, and Miss Hartley, too," I exclaimed. "That is good; better, indeed, than I dared hope, for I did not expect to see you, Miss Hartley, at least for another two or three hours."

"No," answered Grace; "nor did I expect to be here so soon. But a lucky chance enabled me to get my box out of the hut unobserved, and, George happening to come to my window soon afterward to make his final arrangements, we seized the opportunity and came straight away at once. Mrs Pierson, with whom I have been staying, believes me to be in bed with a bad headache. I made my escape through the window."

"Excellent!" said I. "Then I suppose we may set to work almost at once, may we not, Gurney?"

"Yes, as soon as you please, Mr Troubridge," answered Gurney. "But I think it would be wise to give everybody a chance to get home and into bed first. It would be rather awkward if anybody should happen to be out late, taking a walk on the Head, and should see us."

"That is true; it would," said I. "Which reminds me that as I came along the beach, on my way here just now, I once or twice had an impression of being followed. I thought that possibly it might be you, and waited for you to overtake me; but nothing came of it."

"It is a case of 'guilty conscience', I expect, Mr Troubridge," laughed Gurney. "Why should anyone follow you? Nobody can possibly suspect us, for neither Grace nor I—nor you either, I suppose—have ever breathed a word of this to a single soul, not even to each other when there has been the slightest chance of our being overheard."

"No, of course not; it was my fancy, perhaps," I answered. "I must plead guilty to having felt a trifle anxious and nervous during the last few days. But that is all gone and past now. The first thing that I want to talk to you about, Gurney, is the boats. I don't much like the idea of going to sea without boats, and especially the longboat. Now, so far as the quarter boats are concerned, I believe we might manage to get them both hoisted up to the davits, by hooking the watch-tackle on to the falls; but what about the longboat? Do you think there is any possibility of our being able to hoist her in?"

"We might, certainly—if we only had the time," answered Gurney. "But it would have to be done before we passed out through the reef. In smooth water—if, as I say, we had the time—I dare say it could be done. But not outside, with the ship rolling and tumbling about; the boat would be stove long before we could get her inboard."

"Undoubtedly," I agreed. "But I have a plan which I think will afford us the time to hoist in the longboat as well as the two quarter boats before we go outside. When once we are safely out of the Basin, what have we to fear? Nothing, except being overtaken and the ship recaptured by a strong body of men sent after us in boats. But if they have no boats they cannot follow us! Now, my plan is this. I propose that, as soon as it seems safe to do so, we proceed to the spot where all the boats are moored, man the jollyboat, and tow all the rest off to the ship, veering them astern by their painters when we get aboard. Then we will loose and set the fore and main topsail and fore topmast staysail, slip the cable, and work the ship out between the Heads into the lagoon. Once there, we are safe; we can heave-to, and hoist the two quarter boats to the davits, then put on the hatches, and hoist in the longboat, with no fear that anyone can possibly interfere with us. Then, when we have completed our work to our satisfaction, we can cast the remaining boats adrift—they will be certain to drive ashore undamaged, and be recovered—and we can go out through the reef in broad daylight."

"By Jove, Mr Troubridge, you have hit it!" exclaimed Gurney with enthusiasm. "If we can manage to secure the whole of the boats, and get the ship out of the Basin, undetected, we may defy all hands of them. Yes; I see no possibility of a hitch in that plan. But we shall not be safe until we are outside the Basin. And now, what do you think, Mr Troubridge, will it be safe to make a beginning at once, or shall we give them a little longer to get indoors and to sleep?"

"Every minute is of the utmost value to us," said I. "Still, it would be a pity to spoil all by being too precipitate. Let us wait another hour, at the expiration of which I think we may safely make a move."

Accordingly, we all three sat down in the deepest shadow of the rocks, chatting in low tones and discussing the prospects of the voyage, the chances of success in the somewhat desperate attempt that we were about to make, and kindred matters, until my watch showed that we were within an hour of midnight, when I thought it would be unwise to delay any longer, and accordingly gave the word to make a move. Whereupon Gurney hoisted his sweetheart's box on his shoulders, and we all three moved cautiously and in dead silence along the beach toward where the boats were moored, keeping close in among the shadows cast by the cliffs and the overhanging foliage.

The boats, with the exception of the jollyboat, were all moored in a string at a distance of about a hundred yards from the beach, the longboat riding to a small boat anchor, while the others were secured to her by their painters, the jollyboat being hauled up on the sand. This was the boat that we intended to use to go off to the ship in, towing the other boats astern; and when we got alongside her, Gurney swung Grace Hartley's box off his shoulder, intending to deposit it in the stern-sheets of the boat prior to launching her. As he leaned over the gunwale to do so, however, he started back with a smothered ejaculation, for at the same instant a human figure rose up out of the bottom of the boat, where it had been crouching. To drop the box on the sand was, with Gurney, the work of a second; and the next instant he had the man by the throat and was bearing him back into the bottom of the boat again, while Grace Hartley seized my arm and gripped it like a vice to prevent herself from screaming.

"Not a sound, for your life, Grace!" I hissed in her ear as I shook myself free from her grip. Then, springing to Gurney's side, I exclaimed in a low, tense whisper:

"Steady, Gurney; steady, man! don't kill the fellow, and don't make a noise. Who is he? Let him get up and tell us who he is, and what he is doing here."

"Do you hear what Mr Troubridge says?" growled Gurney in his prisoner's ear. "Get up and give an account of yourself. But if you attempt to raise your voice I'll choke the life out of you without more ado. Now then, let us have a look at you. Why, I'll be shot if it isn't Saunders!"

Saunders, it may be explained, was one of the original crew of the Mercury, and a very quiet, steady, well-conducted fellow. It was probably for that reason that he had not been chosen to go in the ship on her projected voyage to China.

I approached the man and stared in his face. Sure enough it was indeed Saunders; and a very scared as well as somewhat angry appearance he presented.

"Why, Saunders," I exclaimed in low-pitched accents of surprise, "what are you doing here in the boat at this time of night? Come, explain yourself!"

"I will, Mr Troubridge, in half a jiffy, as soon as I've got the feel of Gurney's grip out of my throat," answered the man. "It's like this, sir. I've been on this here island long enough to see that Wilde's ideas won't work. I can see that, accordin' to his plan, I may stay here all my life and be no better off than I am to-day, 'cause why—the harder I and others like me works the better it is for a lot of lazy shirkin' swabs, who've made up their minds that they'll never do a hand's turn if they can help it. And I don't see no fun in workin' for skowbanks like that. I've had about enough of it, and I wants to get away from this here place to somewheres where a man can get the full value of his labour. So I've kep' my eye on you all day to-day, Mr Troubridge, on the lookout for a chance to ast you to let me stow myself away aboard the Mercury until she gets well out to sea, intendin', you understand, sir, to cut and run at the first port that we touches at. But I couldn't get the chance to speak to you without bein' seen by them as I didn't want to see me, so I follered you to-night when you started out for a walk—as I thought—intendin' to range up alongside of you when we was well clear of the settlement. And afore I could arrange my thoughts shipshape, so's to make clear what I wanted, you'd jined George here and the young lady, and I couldn't help hearin' pretty near all that was said. Now, sir, I understands that you and Gurney feels pretty much as I do about Wilde and his notions, and intends to give the lot of 'em the slip by makin' off all alone by yourselves in the ship to-night. Ain't that it, sir?"

"Well, supposing that we had any such plan, what have you to say about it?" I returned.

"Only this, sir," answered Saunders, "that I begs you most earnestly to let me come in with you. It's a stiff job, Mr Troubridge, for two people—for the young lady won't count nothin' to speak of—to work a ship the size of the Mercury, and you'd find me most uncommon useful, I assure ye, sir. I'm an A.B., and knows my business as well as e'er a man—"

"Yes," I agreed, "that is perfectly true, Saunders, for I have noticed you more often than perhaps you think. But have you considered the tremendous amount of hard work that would fall to your share in such an adventure as you speak of? And hard work is not the only thing that has to be considered; a voyage of the kind that you are talking about is certain to involve a considerable element of danger. Are you—"

"I don't care that for danger or hardship," interrupted Saunders, snapping his fingers emphatically. "Only say that I may jine in the picnic, and you shan't have no cause to regret it, sir."

"What say you, Gurney?" I asked. "You have a right to a voice in this matter; and you probably know Saunders a good deal better than I do."

"I say let him come by all means, Mr Troubridge," answered Gurney. "He is a good man, and will be worth his weight in gold to us."

"So I think," agreed I. "But," turning to Saunders, "are you prepared to start with us now, this instant? For I cannot consent to incur the risk and delay that would be involved in a return to the settlement."

"There's no call for me to go back, sir," answered the man eagerly. "I've nobody to say goodbye to. And as to 'dunnage', why, I dare say I can make out pretty well durin' the v'yage by helpin' myself from the chests I shall find in the fo'c's'le."

"Very well, then," said I, "you may come, Saunders, and welcome. Now, Miss Hartley, step in, please, and sit down while Gurney and I shove off. In with that box though, Gurney; we must not leave that behind. Go aft, Saunders, and help with an oar; but remember, everything must be done in absolute silence."

The boat, which was already afloat for three parts of her length, was easily launched, and in another minute I was seated in the stern-sheets beside Grace Hartley, while Gurney and Saunders were gently and silently paddling toward the spot where the rest of the boats were moored. We ranged quietly up alongside the longboat, and I got hold of her painter and hauled up the anchor, which I placed in the bottom of the jollyboat. Whereupon the two men at the oars once more gave way gently, and we were soon slowly heading for the ship with the whole string of boats in tow. It took us a full half-hour to accomplish the distance between the ship and the spot where the boats had been moored, and during the whole of that time Gurney and Saunders kept their eyes intently fixed upon the settlement, while I steered; but the place remained wrapped in darkness, and nothing occurred to occasion us the least alarm.

During our stealthy passage across the basin we discussed in low tones the important question of the boats; and it was ultimately settled that we would take two of the four gigs, and at least make an effort to hoist in the longboat, the other two gigs and the jollyboat to be cast adrift and allowed to drive ashore as soon as we were ready to pass out through the reef. Accordingly, as soon as we had arrived alongside the ship, and Grace Hartley and her box had been safely passed up the side, all the boats were veered astern, the longboat and the best two of the gigs each by her own painter, while the other two gigs and the jollyboat were secured together in a string, one astern of the other, so that by casting off one painter all three of the boats would be released at the same instant, while, being lashed together, they would all go ashore at the same spot.

By the time these arrangements were carried out the hour of midnight had arrived. The moon—or what there was left of her—was not due to rise until an hour and twenty minutes later; but by the time that we had got the two gigs hooked on, and the tackles hauled hand-taut—which was as much as we intended to do with them before getting clear of the basin— we had come to the conclusion that the stars afforded us light enough to see by, and we therefore determined to proceed at once with the task of setting the canvas. I was more anxious over this part of our job than any other, for it was no light task for four people—one of whom was a slender slip of a girl—to sheet home and hoist the fore and main topsails of an eight-hundred-ton ship. It would be rather a lengthy business, and somewhat noisy at that; for on a quiet night the rasping of the chain sheets through the sheeve-holes might be heard at a considerable distance, far enough, indeed, to attract the attention of any sleepless individual in the settlement. Moreover, the inside of the Basin was a particularly quiet spot, being under the lee of the Heads, and thus sheltered to a considerable extent from the sweep of the wind. True, the reef lay to windward, and the ceaseless roar of the surf upon it filled the air with such a volume of sound during the night that other sounds might well be drowned in it; but if perchance any suspicious sounds from the direction of the ship were to reach the settlement, and the alarm be given, it might still be very awkward for us, although we had all the boats. For the settlers had plenty of firearms and ammunition obtained from the cargo; and if they were to muster on the Heads in time to fire upon us as we passed out of the Basin, one or more of us might be hit and disabled, if not killed, which would greatly jeopardise the success of our attempted flight. Still, the risk had to be taken, and all that we could do was to minimise it as much as possible by taking every precaution.

Accordingly the buntlines, clewlines, and leech-lines were cast off and very carefully overhauled, and the watch-tackle hitched to the halyards before any of us went up on the yards; then the gaskets were cast off, and the main topsail sheeted home. To us, with our every sense wrought to its highest pitch by anxiety, the noise was absolutely appalling, and seemed as though it might easily be heard at the most distant extremity of the island; but the die was cast. We had taken our fate in our hands, and there was nothing for it now but to go on and get this part of the business over as quickly as possible; therefore as soon as the sheets seemed to be home we belayed them and sprang to the watch-tackle. With the assistance of this handy little piece of gear we got the heavy yard mastheaded without much difficulty, although the process was a somewhat lengthy one, in consequence of the necessity to frequently fleet the tackle, racking the halyards meanwhile to keep what we had gained. However, we completed the job at length, and then the same process had to be gone through with the fore topsail; and it was while we were dragging away at the halyard of this sail that Grace Hartley, upon whom we had not as yet found it necessary to call for help, came running forward to tell us that lights were beginning to flash out here and there in the settlement. It was true; for when we paused from our labours for a moment to verify the statement I counted four separate points of light, and while we still stood looking, another and another leapt out of the darkness.

"The alarm is given and the men are being roused!" I exclaimed. "Well, it cannot be helped; and, anyhow, they are too late; for before they can even discover that we have the boats we shall be under way. Tail on again, my hearties, and let us get this yard mastheaded, then our heavy work will be done for the present. Grace, you will find a lantern in the steward's pantry; light it, please, and bring it for'ard, but take care that the gleam is not seen from the shore. Well, there, with the halyards, belay! I think we have all that we can get of it. Saunders, slip out and cast loose the fore topmast staysail. Gurney, lend me a hand to brace round the foreyard!"

Little or no attempt was now made at concealment; we hoisted the fore topmast staysail, and, light as was the breeze inside the Basin, the rustling of that important piece of canvas drummed in our ears with a sound like thunder; but I had sense enough to know that it was exceedingly doubtful whether or not it could be heard at the settlement. The most noisy part of our work was yet to come, however; and to it we now bent our energies. This was the slipping of the cable. We soon had the shackle out, and the released portion of the cable at once rushed through the hawse-pipe with a roar that must certainly be heard at the settlement. Then I dashed aft to the wheel and flung it hard over to help the ship to cant, which she did with, as it seemed to me, most exasperating sluggishness. But she paid off at last, when we hauled aft the staysail sheet, braced up the yards, and the Mercury began, very deliberately, to forge ahead, and our great adventure was at length fairly begun. Then, while the ship ratched across the Basin, prior to tacking to pass out between the two Heads, Gurney and Saunders, both of whom were exceptionally powerful men, went to work to hoist the two gigs up to the davits.

By the time that they had got the first boat up, and the second one out of the water, we were far enough to windward to render it necessary to tack in order to avoid putting the old barkie ashore on the northern beach. I was just a little doubtful whether the ship would work under such short canvas, but we had now drawn out from under the lee of the south Head, and were feeling something of the true breeze. The water was smooth, and the ship had very nearly four knots' way on her, I therefore determined to try it, and, giving the word "Ready about!" to the others, put the helm very gently down, my aim being to sail her round, if possible, with as little drag as might be from the rudder. She luffed into the wind quite as freely as could reasonably be expected; and the moment that I heard the head sails begin to flap I jammed the helm hard down and lashed it there, leaving the ship to herself while I sprang to help the others to swing the mainyard. By the time that we had got this and the main topsail yard round the ship was fairly paying off on the other tack, when I sang out to Grace to cast off the lashing and steady the helm. Then, letting go the fore braces, we dragged round the head yards and got them also braced up; whereupon I ran aft to the wheel again, leaving Gurney and Saunders to trim over the fore topmast staysail sheet.

Upon reaching the wheel I found Grace Hartley already perched alongside it, and the ship well to windward of the passage between the Heads. She had fallen off a good bit, owing to the sluggishness with which the head yards had been swung, but she was already coming to, and a few seconds later her jibboom was pointing straight for the middle of the passage, with the Heads looming up on either hand, black as ebony against the faint shimmer of starlight on the waters of the lagoon beyond. Gurney and Saunders now came aft and proceeded to complete the hoisting of the second quarter boat; and seeing that Grace seemed to know pretty well what she was about with the wheel I left her at it, directing her to steer the ship as nearly as might be midway between the two Heads, and went to lend the others a hand with the boat.

We had both davit-tackles "two blocks" by the time that the ship was fairly clear of the Heads and in the lagoon, after which we put the hatches on and battened them down. Then came the formidable job of endeavouring to hoist in the longboat—and a formidable job it was, when we actually came to seriously consider it. Nevertheless we determined to make the attempt. Time was the only thing needed to assure us success; and it was just in regard to this that we had our doubts. For it must be remembered that although we had got the ship out of the Basin, she was not yet in open water; on the contrary, she was now moving athwart the placid waters of the lagoon, heading about sou'-sou'- east. This lagoon, I think I have somewhere said, was, roughly, crescent-shaped in plan, measuring about ten miles long by about two and a half miles wide at its broadest part, the northern end being a trifle the more weatherly of the two.

Now, our plan was this. A ship, when hove-to, drifts along on a course as nearly as possible at right angles to the direction of the wind, which, in this case, was blowing due east. We therefore proposed to work the Mercury up toward the northern end of the lagoon, until, when brought round and hove-to, she should have room to drive slowly to the southward without going ashore on the fringing reef which projected into the lagoon an average distance of a mile from the island. Then, while she was thus drawing to the southward—the available distance being about seven miles, or maybe a trifle more—we were to make the attempt to hoist in the longboat by means of yard tackles, and stow her on the main hatch. The hatches were already on and battened down. To get the chocks into place to receive the boat was but the work of a few minutes; and then came the business of rousing out the yard tackles and getting them aloft. I knew where to lay my hand upon them, and soon had them ready for sending aloft; but by the time that we had got thus far the ship had drawn well over toward the southern end of the barrier reef, and it was time to heave about. We therefore tacked ship again, the old hooker working in much more lively fashion this time, because we were now within the influence of the true breeze. Then, with Grace Hartley still at the wheel, Gurney and Saunders went aloft and got the tackles up on the fore and main yards, also the stay purchases; and we were then ready to begin the actual work itself. The boat was next hauled alongside the starboard gangway, in readiness to be hooked on; when, the ship being by this time as far to the northward as it was prudent to go, we tacked, and hove-to on the port tack.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

THE CATACLYSM.

No sooner was the ship round and hove-to, with her fore topsail aback, than Gurney and Saunders slid down into the longboat and hooked on the tackles, which I stood by on deck to haul taut. Then by means of a snatch-block, the watch-tackle, and the winch, we proceeded to lift first the bows and then the stern out of the water, a foot or so at a time. It was slow, tedious work; but we were greatly assisted by the light of the moon, which was by this time well above the horizon; and by working as though for our lives we at length managed to get the boat well above the level of the bulwarks, to transfer her weight from the yards to the stay tackles, and to swing her inboard a few minutes before it became imperatively necessary for us to wear round in order to avoid going ashore upon the barrier reef. By this time, too, we were able to see a great crowd of people gathered upon the south Head watching us; and once or twice we even thought we caught the sound of hailing; but their attempts to communicate with us ended with that, a fear which I had entertained that a number of them might attempt to swim out and scramble aboard while we were all busy with the longboat proving groundless.

We contrived to get the ship round with her head to the northward again, just in time to avoid nicely hitting the reef; and then, upon the principle that it is useless to make two bites at a cherry, we determined to complete our task fully before going outside; we therefore got the yard and stay tackles down and stowed away, and the longboat properly secured in gripes before attempting to pass out through the reef. This kept us busy for nearly another hour, at the end of which we tacked for the last time in the lagoon, and bore away for the passage through the reef, which we successfully negotiated just as the sun's upper rim flashed above the horizon, the jollyboat and the two gigs that we intended to leave behind having been cast adrift a quarter of an hour earlier.

We were all by this time beginning to feel the need of both food and rest, we therefore decided to treat ourselves to a good, substantial breakfast to start with; after which, the weather being fine, and the glass high, three out of the four of us might safely venture to snatch a few hours' sleep. Accordingly I went aft to relieve Grace Hartley at the wheel, while she retired to the cabin which had been allotted to her and made a hasty toilet prior to an incursion into the steward's pantry with the view of arranging for breakfast. But Saunders was beforehand with her; for while she was refreshing herself he entered the pantry and gave it an overhaul, finding a smoked ham, a barrel of cabin bread, coffee, cocoa, sugar, and a number of other articles already stowed there by the steward who was to have accompanied the ship on her projected voyage to China. The ham he promptly cut, carrying several slices, together with the coffee, forward to the galley, where Gurney was already busy starting a fire; after which he returned to the cabin and produced a tablecloth, knives and forks, cups and saucers, plates and dishes, and set the table; thus, by the time that Grace was ready, she found all her intentions anticipated. When breakfast was ready, Saunders came and relieved me at the wheel, while I, in company with Gurney and his sweetheart, sat down to breakfast, at which meal it was arranged that I should take the first watch, steering the ship and keeping a lookout until seven bells in the forenoon, when Gurney was to be called to relieve me while I took the sun, Saunders's duty being to prepare a makeshift dinner. The next watch, until eight bells in the afternoon, was to be Gurney's, when Saunders would come on duty for the first dogwatch, while Grace Hartley was to be allowed to prepare the tea—or supper, as it was then the fashion to call the last meal of the day; in fact, we made out a regular watch-bill, setting forth the sequence of the watches, the names of those who were to keep them, and the additional duties which each person was to perform, Grace Hartley being, of course, let off very lightly, her share of the work being principally confined to easy domestic duties.

As soon as I had finished breakfast I went on deck and relieved Saunders, who went forward to the galley to secure the food that was there being kept hot for him, taking it aft and consuming it in the cabin. I had already determined upon the route that I would take, and was glad to find that while I had been below, the wind had veered just sufficiently to allow the ship to lay her course, close-hauled. Half an hour's further experience revealed the fact that the ship was so nearly steering herself that a very slight adjustment of the helm would enable her to do so entirely, and this adjustment I was able to make with sufficient accuracy within the next twenty minutes to permit of my lashing the wheel and giving my attention to other matters. I therefore got out the chart and spread it open on the cabin table, went on deck again to take the bearings and distance of the island—the latitude and longitude of which I had long ago ascertained and marked upon the chart—and then laid down the ship's position.

Then, finding that the ship still continued to behave satisfactorily under her lashed helm, I got the telescope and went up into the main topmast crosstrees to take a last look at the island, by that time about ten miles distant. It still lay broad on the horizon astern, and so clear was the atmosphere that I was able to distinguish the boats which we had cast adrift, still about a mile from the shore. I next swept the entire horizon with the telescope, in search of other land, or a sail, but not a hint of the presence of either could I detect in any direction. I was especially anxious to fall in with a ship as soon as possible, it being my intention to borrow a few more men, if I could; for our experiences of the past night had already demonstrated to us that while it was certainly possible for us four to handle the ship in fine weather, it meant heavy work, while in bad weather it might easily prove impossible. The one thing of paramount importance to us, while we were so short-handed, was plenty of sea room; and this I was determined to keep, ay, although to do so should add another thousand miles to the length of the voyage.

Having taken a thoroughly exhaustive look round I descended to the deck and busied myself about a number of odd jobs that needed attention, such as hauling taut and coiling up as much of the running gear as had been cast off the pins during the night.

In this way I contrived to pass a fairly busy morning until seven bells, when I called Saunders to turn out and start work in the galley, afterward taking my sextant on deck to catch the meridian altitude of the sun. Then, immediately after dinner, I retired to my cabin and, throwing off the clothing that I had now worn for more than thirty hours, stretched myself upon my bunk, and slept like a log until Grace Hartley—who had left the cabin an hour or so before—knocked at my door to tell me that it was four bells and supper was ready.

By this time we had all had at least six hours' sleep, and felt able to face the coming night with equanimity, the more so for the reason that the weather promised to continue fine. The ship was still under her two topsails and fore topmast staysail, under which she was doing very well, her average rate of sailing throughout the day having been, as nearly as possible, four and a half knots. There was a nice topgallant breeze blowing, and we all felt that we should like to have availed ourselves of it to the fullest possible extent; but making sail and taking it in were two very different things—we could make sail at our leisure, but we should probably be in a hurry when the shortening process became necessary; moreover, to swing the topsail and lower yards, with the strength at our command, was quite as much as we could well manage. After talking the matter over together, therefore, we ultimately decided to let everything stand just as it was until we could see a little more clearly what was before us.

In this manner, then, the first two days passed, the ship jogging along to the southward at the rate of about one hundred to a hundred and twenty miles in the twenty-four hours, the weather continuing fine and, on the whole, settled, enabling us all to get an ample sufficiency of rest while attending to the duties which each day brought with it.

On the third night, dating from the beginning of our adventure, it fell to me to take the middle watch; and when I went on deck at midnight I still found the weather everything that could be desired, except that the wind was perceptibly lighter than it had been when I turned in some four hours earlier. This change, Saunders informed me, had been in progress during almost the whole of his watch; but I did not think—nor did he—that it portended any very important alteration in the weather, for the sky was perfectly clear, and the stars shone brilliantly. The utmost that I anticipated was a possible shift of wind; which, however, would be no great matter, since it was just as likely to be in our favour as against us. We stood for a few minutes discussing probabilities, and then Saunders bade me good night and went below.

For nearly two hours I stood at the wheel, holding the ship to her course with ever-increasing difficulty; for the wind still continued to drop until we scarcely had steerage-way. Then, with a final sigh the breeze died away altogether, the topsails hung limp and dew-saturated from the yards, the fore topmast staysail sheet drooped amidships, and the Mercury swung broadside-on to the scarcely perceptible swell.

Abandoning the now useless wheel, I walked forward to the skylight—in which the cabin lamp, turned low, burned dimly—and had a look at the barometer. It was about a tenth lower than when I had last looked at it, two hours earlier, and that might possibly mean an impending change of weather; but if so, the heavens showed no sign of it thus far, for the sky was still clear as crystal, the stars beamed down with undiminished radiance out of the immeasurable depths of the blue-black vault overhead, and the swell was perceptibly flattening. Then I looked at the clock, which, as is usual at sea, was set every day by the sun. It wanted five minutes to two; I therefore had still two hours of my watch to stand; and, to stave off a certain feeling of drowsiness that was insidiously taking possession of me, I went down on to the main deck and proceeded to pace to and fro in the waist, satisfied that I might walk there as long as I pleased without disturbing the rest of my companions, each of whom occupied a cabin under the poop.

As I thoughtfully walked fore and aft between the main and fore rigging, instinctively treading lightly in sympathy with the profound silence of the night, my imagination carried me back to the island, and I was endeavouring to picture to myself Wilde's rage and disgust upon making the discovery that the ship had prematurely gone to sea, taking with her the girl that he had fully determined to marry, when a low sound, like the muttering of far-distant thunder, awoke me out of my reverie. I sprang up on the poop and flung a hasty glance around the horizon to see if I could anywhere catch the glimmer of distant lightning, thinking that possibly a squall might be brewing. Far away to the northward I did indeed distinctly see what appeared to be the reflection in the sky of certain ruddy flashes, but they hardly looked to me like lightning, or, at all events, like the kind of lightning which I had been accustomed to see.

Meanwhile the low, muttering sound had not died away, as thunder does; on the contrary, it was not only continuous but was steadily growing; in volume with amazing rapidity, proceeding apparently from the direction of those curious ruddy flashes, which were also growing stronger, even as I stood staring and wondering what the phenomenon might mean. As the sound steadily increased so did its resemblance to thunder—or the rapid firing of heavy guns—become more pronounced, a distinct booming, like that of frequent heavy explosions, making itself heard in the midst of the continuous rumble—which seemed to me to be drawing nearer with frightful rapidity. Then, as I still gazed in perplexity toward the spot from which this mysterious and terrifying sound seemed to emanate, I caught the gleam of white water on the northern horizon; and no longer doubting that a heavy squall—of a character quite unknown to me, and perhaps peculiar to those waters—was about to burst upon us, I dashed down the poop ladder and into the cabin, uttered one yell of: "All hands on deck!" and then dashed out again on to the main deck, springing first to the main topsail halyards and letting them run, and then doing the same by the fore.