Now in a fast steamer there is not much done, for I suppose that quick rush of the vessel, as it ploughs its way through the sea, startles the fish away to right and left, and then when they might be swimming quietly after the first rush, the tremendous beating up of the water by the whirling screw sends them off again, and makes the water so foamy that they cannot see a bait.

But with a sailing vessel it is different. When there is not much wind, of course she glides along gently, leaving a wake of foam, but the water is not so disturbed; and soon after the weather had settled down, and was day by day growing warmer, so that the awning was rigged up over the poop, and our fishing began.

"Oh yes," Captain Berriman said, "fish away, sir, and the more fresh fish you catch for us, the better the passengers and crew will like it."

I was standing by one morning when this was said, and Miss Denning glanced at me and smiled as if she knew what was coming.

"You will let young Dale help me?" said Mr Denning. "Want him?"

"Oh yes."

"Take him, then. He isn't much use," said the captain, laughingly. "I often wonder why the owners have boys on board. Better have young Walters, he's more of a sailor than this fellow."

"Oh no," said Mr Denning, "I should like Dale."

"All right," said the captain. "Don't tumble overboard, Dale."

"I'll try not, sir," I said, "but I can swim."

"So much the better, my lad, but it takes a long time to lower a boat down, and a man overboard gets left a long way behind when a ship is in full sail."

He walked away, and looking as eager as I did, Mr Denning began about a fishing-line, while his sister looked bright and happy to see her brother so much interested in the plans he had in view.

"I suppose there are plenty of fishing-lines on board," he said. "Let's get right back beyond the man at the wheel, and fish from there."

"I'll go and see about the lines," I said; and I went forward to where the boatswain was looking after some men who were bending on a new sail.

"Lines? Fishin'-lines, my lad?—no, I don't know of any."

Directly after I came upon Walters. "I say, do you know anything about any fishing-lines?" I said.

"Of course I do," he replied in a contemptuous tone; "who doesn't?"

"But where do they keep them—with the stores?"

"Who's going fishing?" said Walters. "Mr Denning."

"Oh! I'll come and help him; I like fishing," he said.

I looked at him curiously, as I thought of what had been said, and then asked him again.

"I don't know," he cried, "I don't carry fishing-lines in my pockets. Ask old fat Preddle, he's a regular fisherman. But you won't catch any."

I did not think Mr Preddle was likely to have lines, so I did not ask him, but thought I would go and ask every man I met, when I caught sight of Bob Hampton, and went to him.

"Fishin'-lines, my lad? No, I don't think there's any aboard."

"Yes, there are," growled Barney; "I see Frenchy Jarette rigging some up t'other day, as if he meant to have a try."

I felt as if I did not like to ask a favour of the Frenchman, for somehow I did not like him; but feeling that Mr Denning would be disappointed if none were found, I asked where the man was, and found that he was down in the forecastle asleep, for he had been in one of the night watches.

It was so dark there, that for a few moments I could not make out which of the sleeping men lying there was the one I sought. They were all breathing heavily, and at first going down out of the bright sunshine the faces all looked alike; but after getting a little more accustomed to the gloom, I saw a hand just where the faint rays came down through a little sky-light, and on one of the fingers there was a silver ring. Thinking that the wearer might possibly be the Frenchman, I went farther and looked a little more closely, and saw that I was right, for though I could not have been sure that the ring on the hand proved this to be the man I sought, one that I could just make out in the ear satisfied me, and stooping lower still I laid my hand upon his shoulder.

The touch had no effect, and I took hold and shook him.

"Jarette—Jarette!" I said.

He sprang partly up with a faint cry, and to my horror, gripped me by the throat.

"Curse you, I'll—Ah, it's you, cher ami," he said, beginning fiercely, and changing his tone to a whisper. "No, no, not yet," he continued, "it isn't ripe. Wait, cher ami, wait a little."

"Jarette," I said wonderingly, for the man puzzled me—I had no key to his meaning then—"wake up. I'm sorry I roused you, but we want a fishing-line, and Bob Hampton says you have some."

"What—to fish! No, you wish to speak. Hist! I—ah, I see now," he cried quickly. "It is dark below. I see it is you, Mr Dale. Fishing-lines? Yes, I get you some."

"Why, you thought I was Mr Walters," I said, laughing.

"I?—my faith, no, sir. I was asleep and dreaming. Yes," he continued, scrambling out and going to a canvas bag, out of which he drew a large square wooden winder.

"There; it is a very long line and nearly new. I have not used it once, sir. Mister the captain objects to the men having these delassements, these untirings, when you are weary."

"Oh, thank you, Jarette," I cried eagerly.

"And here are these hooks, if the one at the end breaks."

"Yes."

"And the good fortune to you. Good luck you say it."

I went back on deck with my prize, and called at the galley, thinking no more of the Frenchman's mistake.

There the cook readily furnished me with a sharp knife and some tough rind pieces of pork and bacon liberally furnished on one side with fat.

"Cut 'em in long baits, sir," he said, "and the fish are sure to come at them."

"But they will taste too salt," I said.

He laughed.

"How can a fish know whether the bait is salt when it takes it in salt water?"

I had not thought of that, and I returned aft, passing Mr Frewen and Mr Preddle, both of whom looked disturbed, and then I reached the spot where I had left Mr Denning and his sister. He was looking angry, and Miss Denning had tears in her eyes as she quickly turned away.

"I've got a line and baits," I said, speaking as if I had not noticed that anything was wrong, though I felt sure that the doctor and Mr Preddle had been there in my absence.

"You can take them back," said Mr Denning, shortly, "I shall not fish to-day."

Miss Denning turned round quickly.

"John dear!" she whispered, and she gave him a piteous look.

He frowned and turned to me, when seeing, I suppose, my disappointment, he smoothed his face and then smiled.

"Oh, very well," he said, "I was going to my cabin, but we will have a try."

I saw Miss Denning lay her hand upon his arm, but took no notice, for I knelt down on the deck directly, cut a bait ready—a long strip of the bacon rind—stuck the point of the large sharp hook through one end as if I were going to fish for mackerel at home, and then after unwinding some of the line, to which a heavy leaden sinker was attached, I was about to throw the bait over the stern.

"But that piece of lead will be too heavy," cried Mr Denning, now full of interest in the fishing. "It will make the line hang straight down, and I keep seeing the fish play near the top."

I shook my head.

"It will not sink six feet," I said, "because we shall drag it along so fast. If we were going faster I should require a heavier lead."

"Ah, well, I suppose you know best," he said, smiling. "Go on."

He gave an uneasy glance back along the deck to see if any one else were near but the man at the wheel, who had his back to us, and I let about fifty yards of the stout line run out before I checked it and placed it in Mr Denning's hands as he stood leaning against the bulwarks.

"Shall I give a twist round one of the belaying-pins?" I said.

"What for?" he cried sharply. "Do you think I am too weak to hold it?"

"Oh no," I said quickly, "but we may hook a big fish, and the line would cut your hand."

He smiled as if he doubted me, and to guard against his letting go, I unwound the whole of the remaining line and laid it out in rings before fastening the winder tightly beneath the bulwark, so that even if the line were all run out the fish would be checked and caught.

Just then Walters came sauntering up, and I could not help thinking that from his size and our uniform being the same, how easily we might be taken one for the other in the gloom of the forecastle.

Mr Denning turned and looked at him for a moment, and then back to watch his line without a word, while Miss Denning bowed slightly.

"They don't like Walters," I said to myself.

"Had any bites?" he said with a sniggering laugh.

"No," replied Mr Denning, coldly; "I have only just begun."

There was silence for a few minutes, Walters' coming having seemed to damp our proceedings.

"Here, I know what's the matter," he said suddenly, taking a couple of steps close up to Mr Denning. "Your bait isn't right."

"Mind!" I cried. "You're treading on the line."

"Well, it won't hurt it," said Walters, roughly, and he kicked some of the rings up with one of his feet. Then to Mr Denning—"It isn't as if I'd got on nailed boots. Here, let me pull in your bait and pat a proper one on. I've caught lots of fish. He doesn't know anything about it."

"Thank you," said Mr Denning, coldly, "when I require your help, I will ask for it. Ah!"

He uttered a sharp ejaculation, as there came a sudden fierce tug at the line which dragged his hands right out to the full length of his arms and brought his chest heavily against his side.

"Hooray! you've got him," cried Walters, "and a big one too. Hold fast!"

It was as if Mr Denning was playing at the old forfeit game of the Rules of Contrary, for he let go. The line rushed out, and the next moment the rings in which Walters had stepped tightened round his legs just as he was changing his position, and with so heavy a drag that the lad lost his balance and came down heavily upon the deck, which his head struck with a sharp rap.

"That was your doing!" he shouted, as I rushed at him where he was struggling to free himself, for the line kept on tightening round him from the furious jerks given by the fish which had seized the bait.

But I was not thinking of freeing him, only of getting hold of the line, and as he struck at me quickly, I thrust him back so sharply that his head struck the deck again.

By that time I had hold of the line, and, thinking no more of Walters, I tried to hold the prize, but was fain to call excitedly upon Mr Denning to help me.

He seized the line too, and for the next five minutes the fish was tearing about here and there in the water far below where we stood, and jerking our arms and shoulders till they ached. Now it would go off at right angles, now directly in the opposite direction.

Then slacking the line for a few moments it shot right away aft, jerking the line so heavily that it was dragged through our hands. The next moment we saw what looked like a huge bar of blue and silver shoot right out of the water and come down with a heavy splash.

"Gone!" I said with a groan, for there were no more fierce tugs, and as I hauled, the line came in yard by yard for me to cast down on the deck.

"The line's broken," said Mr Denning in a husky voice, as he drew out his handkerchief to wipe his face.

"Yes; it was a monster," I said dolefully. "Oh, what a pity!"

"Missed one?" said the captain.

"Yes, sir; a great fellow, five feet long at least."

"One of the big albicores, I dare say," he said. "They are very strong in the water. But he has not broken your line, has he?"

"I'm afraid so," I replied, as I hauled away till the lead rattled against the ship's side. Then another haul or two brought the hook over the rail, for the line was not broken, but the stout wire hook had straightened with the weight of the fish, and had been drawn back out of the creature's jaws.

By this time Walters had pretty well cleared himself from the line tangled about his leg, and he stood looking on and scowling at me in turn as I removed the straightened hook, and put on another from the spare ones with which Jarette had furnished me. This I baited as before and threw over, the line running out rapidly till about the same length was out; and Mr Denning took hold again, the red spots in his cheeks showing how thoroughly he was interested in the sport.

"Better luck to you this time," said the captain, and he nodded and walked away; but Walters stayed, saying nothing, but leaning against the rail, and looking on in a sulky, ill-used way at me and my every action as I attended on Mr Denning.

"We shall never get to be friends," I thought. "He always looks as if he was so jealous that he would like to throw me overboard."

"Shall I fasten the line this time, sir?"

"No, no; not on any account," said Mr Denning. "It would take away half the excitement, and I get so little in my life. Eh, Lena?"

Miss Denning smiled at him half-pityingly, and his face looked very gentle now as he smiled back at her. Then all his attention was directed to the line where it hit the water.

"You will be ready to help if I hook a big one," he said to me; "I'm not so strong as I used to be."

"I'll catch hold directly you tell me," I replied; "but perhaps it will be a small one this time."

I turned to arrange the spare line once more so that it would run out easily, and Miss Denning went closer to her brother, while I became aware now of the fact that Walters was watching me in a sour, sneering way.

"What's the matter?" I said.

"Oh, go on," he whispered; "make much of it. You did that on purpose just now."

"What, when you went down?" I said eagerly. "I didn't, really."

"All right; I'm not blind, and I'm not a fool. Of course we're the favourite, and everything is to give way to us; but never mind, my lad, every dog has his day."

I looked at him with a feeling of wonder that any one could be so thoroughly disagreeable, so determined to look at everything from a wrong point of view, and then I laughed, for it seemed to be utterly absurd that he should misconstrue even that look, for he exclaimed viciously—

"That's right, grin away, my lad; but the day may come when you'll laugh the wrong side of your mouth."

"Why, what a chap you are, Nic!" I whispered. "I never saw such a fellow. Come, let's be friends; I'm sure I want to."

"And I don't, with a miserable sneak who is always trying to undermine me with people."

"Under-grandmother you," I said in a low voice, so that Miss Denning should not hear. "Don't talk such stuff."

"Go on. Insult me as much as you like," he whispered back: "I shan't say anything. You're setting everybody against me, so that instead of being friends, as a young officer should with his equals, I'm obliged to go and talk to the men."

I could not help laughing again at his mock-tragic and absurd way of taking things, and as I honestly felt that if matters were unpleasant it was all his own fault, he leaned toward me now with his eyes half shut and his teeth pressed together as he whispered close to my ear—

"All right. You'll be sorry for it some day, and then—"

"Here's another, Dale! Quick!" cried Mr Denning.

"Yes, yes, quick, quick," cried his sister, and I offended poor Walters again quite unintentionally by swinging one arm across his chest in my hurry and excitement to get to Mr Denning's help; and as I reached over the rail to get hold of the line, I felt sure that my messmate would think that I struck him. For the moment I felt vexed and sorry, then I could not help smiling to think how comic it was that I should keep on upsetting him. Then I forgot all about it in the excitement of righting the fish.

"It's a big one, Mr Denning," I said, as we both held on to the line— holding on now with it across the rail. "Let's give him a chance to run, and then haul in. Then he can run over again to tire himself."

Mr Denning was too much excited to speak, but he nodded his head, and we let the line run, after I had placed one foot upon it to hold it down on the deck and check its race.

Away went the fish, with ring after ring working off beneath my foot till only about three yards were left.

"Stop it now," cried Mr Denning, and I pressed my foot down hard, feeling a curious quivering sensation run up my leg before I quite stopped the running.

And now the fish began to rush in another direction, giving us an opportunity to haul in some of the line; but we soon had to let it go again; and every time I glanced at Walters, all hot, excited, and eager as I was, I could see that he was looking on with a half-mocking scowl.

But the next minute he gave quite a start and seized the line, for the captain, Mr Brymer, and Mr Frewen had all come up on seeing that a fish had been hooked, and the former said sharply—

"Come, Walters, don't stand there with your hands in your pockets and let Dale do all the work."

And again I upset my messmate as if it were a fatality, for I cried out—

"All right, sir, we can manage. Don't touch the line, Walters."

"No; don't touch the line!" cried Mr Denning, and the lad shrank back as if the thin hemp were red-hot.

Then amidst plenty of excitement and some of the crew coming aft, I helped Mr Denning haul and haul till the fish was gradually drawn so close in that we could see its failing efforts to regain its freedom. Apparently it was nearly five feet long, and its sides flashed in the clear water where it was not foaming with the lashing of the captive's vigorous widely-forked tail.

"Bonito," cried the captain.

"No, no, albicore," said Mr Brymer.

"Suppose we wait till it's fully caught," said Mr Frewen, smiling at Miss Denning, when I saw her brother give him an angry look.

But the next moment I was thinking only of the fish, which was now so exhausted that it had ceased struggling, and allowed itself to be dragged along in the wake of the ship, merely giving a flap with its tail from time to time which turned it from side to side.

"Now," said Mr Denning to me, "let us both haul it on board."

But I protested, saying that the weight of the fish would certainly break it away, and that we should lose it.

To save us from such a catastrophe, I unfastened the other end of the line, made a running noose round the tight line beneath Mr Denning's hands, and let it run down till the noose struck the fish on the nose, and made it give a furious plunge to escape.

But the hook held firm in spite of my dread, and after a little twitching and shaking, with the lookers-on making remarks which only fidgeted me instead of helping, I managed to make the noose glide over the slippery body.

"Now!" cried Mr Frewen, who was as interested as the rest; but before the word was well uttered, I had given the line a sharp snatch just as the running noose was in the narrow part before where the tail fin curved out above and below like a new moon.

This meant a double hold, for the noose tightened, and now in spite of a fresh set of furious struggles the fish was steadily hauled out of the water, and we nearly had it up to the poop-rail, when the hook was torn out of its holding, and the fish hung down quivering and flapping from the noose about its tail.

The weight seemed to be tremendous, but I gave two or three sharp tugs, had the fish over the rail, and over on to the deck, whose planks it began to belabour heavily, while we gazed excitedly at the beautiful creature glistening in its splendid coat of many colours, which flashed gold, silver, orange, scarlet, and metallic blue and green at every quivering blow.

"What is it?" said Mr Denning eagerly, and I remember thinking how animated and well he looked that day.

"Well," said the captain, "many years as I've sailed these seas, I hardly know what to say. It's something like a dolphin, but it's more like a bonito, and it isn't unlike an albicore. What should you say, Brymer?"

"Quite fresh to me," said the mate. "Certainly one of the mackerel family, by its head and the great crescent moon tail."

"Yes, and the short fins on front, top, and bottom. Never mind, it looks a good one for the table, and I congratulate you, Mr Denning, upon your luck. Going to try again?"

"No," said the invalid, peevishly, as he glanced quickly from his sister to the doctor and back. "Thank you for helping me, Alison Dale. Lena, your arm; I'll go below."

No one spoke till he had disappeared, and then the captain shook his head.

"Poor chap," he said, with a sigh. "Here, Dale, Walters, carry the fish to the cook; Hampton—Dumlow, swabs and a bucket."

"Keep tight hold," I cried to my companion, who was holding the head of the fish by a loop of yarn passed through its gills, while I carried it by getting a good grip of the thin tail.

"Do you want to carry it yourself?"

"Not at all. Too heavy."

Just then the fish began to quiver as if it were all steel spring, and waggled its tail so sharply that it flung off my grasp, and once more I offended Walters, for the fish fell across his feet.

"There!" he cried, "you can't deny that. You did it on purpose. A filthy, slimy thing!"

As he stood there with both his hands clenched I thought he was going to strike me; but even if he had it would have made no difference, I should have been obliged to laugh, and laugh I did, till as I was wiping my eyes I found that Jarette the French sailor was close up and looking at me keenly.

"Here, Barney Blane," I said, "take hold."

The man grinned and came and helped me bear it away to the cook, after which I put away the tackle, hanging it to dry before giving it back to its owner.



CHAPTER NINE.

All at once, just as our life at sea was as calm and peaceful as could be, Captain Berriman grew quite queer in his manner. He was pleasant enough to the passengers, and I never had an unkind word from him, but he was most tyrannical to a number of the men, ordering them about, making them set fresh sail, take it down, and altering his orders half-a-dozen times over, till the men used to go about muttering, and more than once I heard words spoken about him that were startling, to say the least.

One evening when it was very dark, the moon not having risen, I was looking over the side and down into the calm, black water which was as full of tiny specks of light as the sky above me, and every now and then these little glittering points beneath the surface would be driven here and there as if a fish had swum sharply by. It was all so beautiful, to watch point after point gliding about lower and lower till all was jet black, that I had forgotten everything, heard nothing, till all at once just behind me I heard Mr Brymer say—

"Of course it is very unpleasant for me. I'm afraid the men will not stand much more of it. Do you think he is going mad?"

There was a pause for a few moments, and then Mr Frewen said—

"No; I feel sure that it is only a temporary trouble due to the heat and over-anxiety about the ship."

"But he is getting worse; and twice over to-day I felt as if I ought to shut him up in his cabin and take charge altogether."

"No, I should not do that," said Mr Frewen, "so long as nothing serious goes wrong. If he really gets too bad, I suppose I must help you by justifying your proceedings in superseding him."

"For the owners' sake, of course."

"Of course. It is a very serious position for us both. But there, he may be better to-morrow. If not, we must hope for the improvement when we get further south."

"Then you would not take command?"

"Certainly not, under the present circumstances."

"Halloa!" cried Mr Brymer—"a spy! Who's that—Walters?"

"No, sir; it is I."

"And what are you doing there, listening?"

"I was watching the phosphorescence of the sea, sir, and you came and stood close to me and began talking."

"And you heard?" said Mr Frewen.

"Every word, sir."

"And do you know that we were talking about Mr Denning?" said the mate.

"No; you were talking about the captain."

They were silent for a few moments, and then Mr Frewen spoke.

"Look here, Dale," he said, "this is a delicate matter. You have seen that Captain Berriman is ill?"

"I thought he was very strange, and a bit cross sometimes."

"Far worse than that. Look here, Dale, if you go chattering about what you have heard," said Mr Brymer, "you may make a great deal of mischief."

"I am not likely to talk about it to anybody unless it be to Mr Denning," I said, feeling a little hurt.

"Then pray don't mention it to him. It would only make him and his sister uneasy," cried Mr Frewen, quickly.

"I'm afraid they've seen enough for themselves," said Mr Brymer. "Look here, youngster, I shall speak plainly to you, because you are a sensible lad. If you spoke about what we have said, and it reached Captain Berriman's ear now he is in that excitable state, he would immediately think I was conspiring against him, go frantic, and there might be terrible mischief. So don't say a word, even to your messmate, or he'll go chattering to that French scoundrel and the rest of the men. By the way, Dale, let me give you a word of advice. I don't like the way in which young Walters is going on. It is not becoming for a midshipman or apprentice to make friends too readily with the sailors. Don't you follow his example."

"I don't sir," I said indignantly.

"Softly, my lad; I've seen you talking a good deal with that old fellow Hampton, and the two men with him."

"Oh yes; I have talked to them a good deal," I said: "but it was only when we were on the watch, and I wanted them to tell me something about the sea."

"Ah, well, be careful, my lad. Here, shake hands. I'm not cross with you, for you have behaved uncommonly well since you've been on board. There, that will do."

"Good-night, Dale," said Mr Frewen, kindly; "a still tongue maketh a wise head, my lad."

They walked on, and disappeared in the darkness directly, while I stood with my back to the bulwarks and my hands in my pockets, thinking about what they had said, and recalling the little things I had thought nothing of at the time, but which came back now looking to be big things. Yes, I remembered the captain had certainly been rather strange in his manner sometimes. Why, of course, Mr Denning had said to his sister that the captain need not be so disagreeable to the men.

I was just wondering what would happen, and then thinking that it would not make much difference if Mr Brymer were captain, and that it would be better perhaps for Captain Berriman to lie by and be attended by Mr Frewen, when I heard a sound over my head—something like a low hiss.

"Some kind of night-bird," I thought. But the next moment I felt quite startled, for the sound was repeated, and I knew now that it was some one whispering. Then, as I stood quite still in the darkness, with the glow coming from the cabin-windows and from the binnacle-light, there was a faint rushing up above, and a little off to my left, and directly after I knew what it was,—somebody's feet on the ratlines coming down from the main-top.

There was no sail being made or reduced, and it seemed strange for any one to be up there, and it had just struck me that perhaps it was Captain Berriman, who had seen Mr Brymer and Mr Frewen talking together and had gone up to listen, when, so close to me that I wondered I was not seen, somebody stepped down on to the top of the bulwarks, and then swung himself softly on to the deck; then crouching down close under the side, he crept forward swiftly and was gone.

"That couldn't have been the captain," I thought; "the step was too light. It was some one quite active."

I was thinking of going forward to try and make out, when there was another rustling noise above, which recalled the whispering that had passed out of my mind for the moment; then the rustling continued, and some one else came down, stepped lightly on the deck, and stood perfectly still as if looking about to see if any one was near.

It was so dark that I could not make out who it was till he walked aft not very far from where I stood, and a few moments later I saw who it was, for his figure came between my eyes and the glow from the cabin-windows.

"Why, it was Walters," I said to myself, and then I began to wonder more and more what it all meant. I ran it over in my mind, but I could not think of any one at all likely to be Walters' companion at night in the main-top; in fact, I could not think of any one at all likely to climb up so high, or even half-way up the shrouds.

"It couldn't have been a cabin passenger," I thought, "for he went forward; nor yet one of the steerage people."

Then I knew, and wondered that I had not thought of him at first.

"Why, it was Jarette," I said to myself. "He's as light and active as a cat."

I waited a bit; and then went slowly right forward and stood for a time with the men at the look-out, to gaze right away into the soft, hot, black darkness, thinking how easily we might run into another vessel, or another vessel run into us. Then setting my face aft, I went back along the starboard side, and made my way, blinking like an owl after being so long in the darkness, into the saloon-cabin, where the passengers were sitting about, some reading, others working, and where on one side I found Mr Denning playing chess with his sister.

Everything looked calm, and as if the people were happy enough, and never thinking it likely there could be any trouble about Captain Berriman or anything else.

But the saloon-cabin was so warm down there in the south that I soon went back on deck to hang over the bulwarks for a time, and then go right aft to look down at the sparkling water, all ablaze now as it seemed to rush from both sides of the rudder, where in the daytime all would be white foam.

I had no duty to perform that night to keep me on deck; but still I lingered, thinking that perhaps the cabin would be terribly hot, as it had been on the previous night, only I dropped off to sleep so soon that the heat did not trouble me.

"And I shall have it all to myself to-night," I thought, "for Walters will have to take his turn in the watch."

At last, half envying him the task of passing a good deal of the night on deck, I took a look round. The saloon-lights were out, and there was no one there; the sailing-lights were up in their places, and the faint glow rose from about the binnacle, just faintly showing the steersman's face. Away forward I could hear the low murmur of conversation where the watch were on duty, and now, for the first time, I yawned, and some one spoke from close behind me and made me start.

"Well," he said, "if you are so drowsy as that, why don't you go to your bunk?"

"Just going, sir," I said, for it was the first mate, Mr Brymer; and now I hurried down, threw off my clothes, and in a very few minutes I was sound asleep.

I suppose it was the heat, for I don't believe that it had anything to do with the coming danger, but at any rate I slept badly that night—an uneasy, troubled kind of sleep, such as I should have expected to have if some one was to come and call me about two bells.

It must have been about that time that I was lying more asleep than awake, but sufficiently conscious to spring up in my berth and say quite aloud—

"Yes; what is it?"

There was no reply, though I could have declared that some one called me. But though there was no reply, I could hear voices. Some one was giving orders in a sharp, angry voice; and directly after, I could hear a scuffling sound, followed by a savage curse uttered in a low voice, and then there was the sound of a fall.

Something was evidently wrong, and for a few moments I was sure that the captain had found out about the conversation which had taken place, and had now taken matters into his hands in no mild fashion. Mr Brymer was the last man I saw on deck, and without doubt that must be he.

I lay there, with the perspiration oozing out of every pore, and listened for the next sounds; but all was still for a few moments. Then there were evidently people running about on deck, and a chill of horror ran through me as I now noticed that something was wrong with the ship. For instead of rising and falling steadily as she glided onward, she was right down in the trough of the sea, and swaying and rolling in a way that was startling. Fully convinced now that we had gone on a rock or a sandbank—being ready to imagine anything in my excitement—I rolled out of my berth and began to hurry on some clothes.

I never dressed more quickly in my life, for as I hastily slipped on my things, there was the sharp report of a gun or pistol, and a loud crash as of a door being burst in. Then the hush and quiet was at an end; there was a piercing shriek, another shot, followed by the sounds of struggling, loud and angry voices, then cries for help; and I made for the deck as quickly as I could, to find all in darkness. But men were running here and there, a sharp voice was giving orders, and then I saw the flash of a pistol or gun. The report came, there was a low groan, and then all at once some one rose as it were out of the darkness and made a blow at me, for I heard the whish of a weapon.

But the blow was made in the dark, and had no effect; but whoever struck now made a dash at me, and I ducked down, leaped sidewise, and with my heart in my mouth ran right forward, with whoever it was in pursuit.

I felt that I knew who it was now as I ran. The captain really had gone mad, and as I ran and heard the steps behind me, fear lent me great speed. Other people had been shot or cut down, and something terrible was going on. So I ran for my life to take refuge with the crew in the forecastle; but as I reached it, there was struggling and fighting going on there, and I crossed the deck to run back aft on the other side, meaning to reach Mr Brymer's cabin or Mr Frewen's if I could.

For a moment I fancied that I had evaded my pursuer, but there was another dash made for me again out of the darkness, and I ran on.

"Look out there, you, sir," cried a voice from behind me; "here comes one."

This told me that there were enemies in front, and I was ready to dart anywhere to avoid whoever tried to stop me.

That there was danger I soon found, for struggling, and oaths, and curses saluted my ears again as I reached the ladder and ran up on to the poop-deck, just as a shout from near the wheel drove me back.

"Got him?" shouted some one.

"No; where is he?"

I was crouching now under the starboard bulwark, and feeling certain that in another minute I should be found, I passed my hand upward, searched about, and found that which I sought, the mizzen-shrouds. The next minute I had caught well hold with both hands, swung up my feet, and went on inboard hand over hand till I was twenty feet above the deck, clinging there in the darkness, and listening to the efforts made—evidently by three or four men—beneath to find out where I could be gone.



CHAPTER TEN.

As I clung there in the mizzen-shroud, afraid to stir, hardly daring to breathe lest I should be heard, and puzzled beyond measure as to what it could all mean, but feeling all the same certain that something terrible had happened, and that it was no shipwreck, there was a tremendous kicking and banging at one of the cabin-doors, and up through the sky-light came in smothered tones—

"Here, open this, or I'll kick it off the hinges."

"Lie down!" yelled a sharp angry voice from somewhere beneath me, and there was a flash of a pistol, the loud report, and a few moments after the smell of the powder rose to my nostrils.

"Jarette," I said to myself, as I recognised the half-French sailor's voice, and then I felt sure that it was Mr Frewen who had shouted from one of the cabins where he must be locked in.

"Then it must be a mutiny," I thought, and such a cold paralysing chill ran through me that I felt as if I should drop down on deck. For the recollection of all I had read of such affairs taking place in bygone times flashed through my brain—of officers murdered in cold blood, ships carried off by the crew to unknown islands, and—yes—I was an officer, young as I might be, and if the mutineers caught me they would murder me, as perhaps they had already murdered Captain Berriman and Mr Brymer.

I felt giddy then, and the wonder has always been to me that I did not let go and fall. But my fingers were well hooked on to the ropes, and there I hung listening, as after pretty well scouring the deck the men below me stopped, and the voice that I had set down as Jarette's said—

"Well, have you got him?"

"No."

"Did you feel under the seats?"

"Yes; there's no one on this deck."

"Did he go overboard?"

"No; he must have dodged us and dropped back from the rail."

"Who was it? The doctor?"

"No; that whipper-snapper of a boy."

"Oh, him. Well, then he'd better come out of his hole, wherever he is," said Jarette loudly, speaking in very good English, though with a peculiar accent which sounded to me almost ferocious, as I hung there feeling as if I could not hold on much longer.

"Do you hear, boy? Come here, or I'll send a bullet to fetch you."

That man was not twenty feet below me, and as I strained my eyes to try and see whether he was watching me and taking aim, a curious creeping sensation ran over my body as if tiny fingers were touching me.

"Do you hear?" came in a fierce snarl,—"am I to fire?"

The voice sounded so close now that the words seemed to be shouted in my ear, and for the minute, feeling certain that he knew where I was, I drew myself up ready to drop down. But still I hesitated, though I felt perfectly certain he was looking up and pointing his pistol at me.

There was an interval of perfect silence then, save that a murmur came from below, and this encouraged me, for I felt that I must be invisible in the darkness, or else Jarette would have had me down.

Then my heart sank, for the man shouted suddenly—

"There, boy, I can see you; come out or I'll fire."

"Come out! Then he cannot see me," I thought, and I clung there spasmodically, hoping still that I was unobserved.

"He's not here," said Jarette, sharply; "now then, one of you, I want a man at the wheel, the ship's yawing about anyhow. Who have you there— Morris?"

"Down on guard at the cabin-door," said a voice.

"Brook?"

"'Long with him."

"Jackson?"

"Sitting on the forksle-hatch."

"Sacre! Where's Bob Hampton?"

"Hee-ar!" came from the direction of the way down to the lower deck.

"Come up here and take the wheel."

"Ay, ay," growled the familiar voice, and I felt heart-sick to hear it, for Bob Hampton would have been the first man I should have picked out as one to be trusted, while the sound of his voice made it appear that every one would be against us.

But though these thoughts flashed through my mind, I was listening all the time intently to what went on below, striving as I was to grasp the real state of affairs.

"Here you are then, Bob Hampton. Behold you, my friend, though it's so dark I can't see you," said Jarette, and I heard a low chuckling noise which I recognised as Bob Hampton's laugh.

"And that's a bull as arn't an Irish one," he said.

"Ah, yes, faith of a man, but don't you try to be funny, my man," said Jarette, "for this is not a funny time, when men are working with their necks in the hang-dog noose. Now, look here, my friend, I did not ask you to join us, because I did not trust you; but you have joined us to save your skin; so you had better work for us well, or—there, I will not say ugly things. You are a good sailor, Bob Hampton, and know your work, and it would be a pity if you were to be knocked overboard and drowned."

"Horrid pity, messmet."

"Captain, if you please, Bob Hampton, and your friend if you are faithful. That will do. Now go to the wheel, and send the ship on her voyage south. She is rolling in the trough of the sea."

"Right!" said Bob. "'Spose, captain, you won't be so particklar; man may light his pipe while he is at the wheel."

"Oh yes. Smoke and be comfortable; but you will mind how you steer, for I shall be a hard severe man. You understand, extremement severe."

"Course you will," said Bob, coolly; "skippers must be. Don't matter to me, messmate—cap'n, I mean—one skipper's good as another. But I say, cap'n, there's Barney Blane and Neb Dumlow knocked on the head in the forksle. They on'y showed fight a-cause they see as I did at first. They're good mates and true, and 'll jyne me as they allus have. 'Wheer you sails,' say they, 'we sails.' So I thought I'd put in a word, as you wants trusty men."

"I can choose my crew, Bob Hampton," said the Frenchman, in a peculiar tone of voice. "Too much talk is only good for parrot birds. Go you and steer."

"Right you are, cap'n," said Bob, and I heard him go aft, but could not see him till I wrenched my head round, and could then dimly see something in the halo of soft light shed by the lamp on the compass.

And all this time the ship was rolling slowly, with the yards making a strange creaking sound and the sails filling and flapping about with strange flutterings and whimperings; but in a few minutes there was a perceptible change, the ship's head swinging round, and I knew that we were once more gliding swiftly through the water.

That there was a group of men below me I felt absolutely certain, though I could see nobody; and at last, when I had come to the conclusion that I had reached the extreme limit of my strength, and that I must drop, Jarette spoke suddenly, but in quite a low voice—

"You two stay here by the sky-light, and if any attempt is made to get on deck, shoot at once. If they are killed, their blood be on their own heads. Where's young Mr Walters?"

"Why, you left him on guard with the others at the cabin-door," said a man surlily.

"Fetch him here: I did," said Jarette, and I felt then that I was going down on the heads of the men below. But I made one more desperate effort, as I heard the soft footsteps moving off in different directions; and then almost without a sound I got my arm round the outside shroud, then one leg round,—how I can hardly tell you now, I was so exhausted,—and the next minute I had relieved my muscles of the strain, and was standing there with my feet on the ratlines, my arms thrust right through and folded round one of the inner ropes, and my head thrust through as well; safe, I felt, even if I lost my senses and fainted away.

Fortunately for me, the ship was heeling over now in the opposite direction, so that my position was easier, and as I half lay, half clung there, the painful stress on mind and body grew lighter—at least the bodily stress did, and I began to think more clearly.

It was horrible. The ship then had been seized by the crew, headed by Jarette. Some of the men had resisted, and were prisoners in the forecastle; but Bob Hampton had gone over to the side of the mutineers, and the others were sure to follow. But the worst thing of all was the knowledge that my brother midshipman was in the mutiny, and keeping guard over the officers and passengers. And he was a gentleman's son. Here then was the explanation of his being so friendly with Jarette, and that was why he and Jarette had been up aloft in the dark.

I shivered at the thought. But the next moment I was seeing something else clearly, and I guessed at two things which afterwards I found to be correct. Jarette had traded upon Walters' discontent, and won him over with, no doubt, great promises, because he would be useful; and of course I saw it plainly now it had been necessary to fasten the cabin-doors, and shut the officers in. Mr Frewen was, as I had heard, locked in his cabin. Who was there to go quietly at night and fasten their doors? No one more likely than the lad who had the run of the cabins and saloon.

"No, I won't believe it," I thought the next moment. "Nic Walters couldn't be such a miserable scoundrel as that."



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

What was I to do?

The answer came readily enough. Join your friends.

But how? They were prisoners below in the cabins, and with guards set at the companion and over the sky-lights.

There appeared to be no way but to go up aloft higher, crawl along some stay, and then lower myself down, and to creep through the sky-light.

"And be dragged back long before I could get down, even if I could get down at all," I said to myself bitterly.

That would not do; there must be some other way.

"Join the mutineers," something seemed to suggest, and wait till there was a chance of leaving them and giving information to the authorities, or another ship.

I couldn't do that, and even if I had felt disposed, Walters would have taken care that I was not trusted. He would have been too jealous. Feeling rested, I now began to creep up step by step so as to reach the mizzen-top, where I hoped I could remain unseen. It was ticklish work, for the men on guard by the sky-light were a very little distance away; but moving by slow degrees I climbed up at last, and lay down in comparative safety, not having been heard.

I had hardly reached my hiding-place, when I heard one of the men below me say—

"Here they come," and directly after I could see ascend to the poop-deck, by the light of three lanterns the men carried, a party of about fourteen, one of whom was Jarette, another Nic Walters, and the rest were sailors, with the two rough fellows, Dumlow and Blane, firmly bound with stout line, in their midst.

They were pushed and dragged up to the foot of the mizzen-mast, where Jarette seated himself in one of the deck chairs, and Walters, with a pistol in his hand and another in his belt, stood by the Frenchman's side, resting one foot upon the seat of the chair, as if on terms of the greatest intimacy with its occupant.

"Bring 'em forward," said Jarette, and the two men were thrust to the front, Dumlow growling like some strange animal, and Blane trying to strike at his guards with his elbows.

"Steady there," shouted Jarette.

"Steady it is," growled Dumlow. "Look here, you Jarette, if you'll just have these ropes undone on the starboard side to let one o' my fins at liberty I'll fight yer one hand."

"Hold you your tongue, fool."

"Shan't, so now then. Jest you have this rope undone and I'll take a pair on you."

"Will you hold that tongue, or shall I cut it out?"

"I should just like to ketch you at it, yer sham make-believe English sailor."

My head, at the risk of my white face being seen, was thrust over the side of the top.

"Look here, you two, you are brought before me, the captain of this ship, for me to see whether I am willing to let you off easy."

"Oh, you're the skipper, are yer?" said Barney, spitting on the deck. "Well, yer don't look like it, messmet."

"Silence," shouted Jarette. "Now, look here, my lads, if I have you cut loose and forgive you for giving us so much trouble and knocking your mates about, will you join us and help us work the ship?"

"No!" roared Dumlow, "I'm blessed if I do."

"And you, Barney?"

"Same I says as my mate."

"Vairy good, then, my friends, we were going to offer you a happy life and a share in our prize, but you will not take them, so we shall have to pitch you both overboard."

"As Neb says, I should just like to ketch yer at it," roared Blane.

"Lookye here, Frenchy," cried Dumlow in his strange growl, "you make these beggars loosen this here line, and I'll fight yer one hand."

"Will you join us, big idiot?" said Jarette, and I drew in my breath as I wondered whether the two brave fellows would prove staunch, and if they did, whether Jarette would dare to carry out his threat.

"No; course I won't, you ugly piratical frog-soup-eating Frenchy."

"Hit him in the mouth," said Jarette.

"You'd better!" roared Dumlow, raising a leg to kick the first man who approached him, and now I started, for Walters spoke.

"Don't be fools, you two," he said; "Bob Hampton has joined us."

"Yer lie, yer young warmint," cried Dumlow; "Bob Hampton wouldn't be such a sneak."

Walters winced at the man's words, but he pointed aft.

"Look," he said; "there he is at the wheel steering."

"Ahoy yonder!" roared Dumlow. "That theer arn't you, is it, Bob?"

"Me it is, messmet," said Hampton, coolly.

"Sure, messmet?"

"Ay. All right."

"Why, you arn't jyned 'em, have you, lad?" said Blane.

"Ay, I've jyned, lad," replied Hampton, and then—"Say, skipper, hadn't I better keep her off a pynte or two?"

"Yes," shouted Jarette.

"Well, I'm blessed," growled Dumlow. Then aloud—"Hi! Bob, lad, what's to be done?"

"'Bout what?" came back from the wheel.

"Air we to let 'em pitch us overboard, or air we to jyne?"

"Jyne," growled Bob Hampton.

"Jyne it is, messmet," said Dumlow, in his low growling tone. "Here, unlash these blessed ropes, they're a-cuttin' into my arms like hooroar."

"And you'll join us too, Barney?" said Jarette.

"I does same as my two mates," said Blane. "I arn't going to be pitched overboard if they arn't. Share and share alike, says I. Fair play's my motto, and no favour. Here, cast off all these here lashins. What d'yer want to tie a fellow up so tight for?"

"Take off the ropes," said Jarette, in a voice full of triumph, and I could hear the rustling and rattling noise made as the lines were untied, and directly after Dumlow's voice, saying—

"Here, give 's a drop o' summat; I'm as dry inside as a biscuit-bag."

And my lips and throat felt dry too with excitement, while a strange feeling of despair came over me. Walters, Bob Hampton, Dumlow, and Blane all turned traitors. What was to become of the poor passengers, the officers, and myself?

There was only one way out of the difficulty, and that was to join the prisoners in the cabin.

But how?

I lay listening. The men were talking loudly, and I soon made out that drink was going round; but all was still as death now in the saloon and cabins. Their occupants were evidently waiting to see what would be done, and listening to the proceedings on deck.

"How can I get to them?—How can I get to them?" I kept on saying to myself.

The darkness would favour me if I crept down, but the places were so guarded that there was not the most remote chance of my getting past the sentries.

I felt more despondent than ever, as I lay listening to the faint creaking of the yards when they yielded gently to the wind. There was no chance whatever of my joining my friends, and I was about to resign myself to my fate, when I had a bright flash of hope. I could see my way through the darkness. There was light ahead—mental light—and I determined to dare the peril and act at once, if I could; if not, as soon as the men below had dispersed.

Unfortunately I had to wait some time and listen, hardly daring to stir for fear of being heard or seen, for there were three lanterns stood about the deck, shedding their feeble light around, and now and then looking brighter, and showing me the faces of the mutineers as they opened the lantern-doors to light their pipes.

Jarette was talking quickly to a group of the men about him, but I hardly heard what he said, my attention being fixed upon my plan of escape, till I heard Jarette say—

"Wait till daylight then, my lads, and we'll soon have them all out of there."

"All out of there," could only mean the people out of the cabin. Never mind, they should have me out to, for my mind was made up, and I was only waiting my chance.

Then it came, for the lanterns were picked up, and two of them were carried down to the main-deck, while I could see that Walters picked up the other and walked aft with Jarette, the light showing me two men, one on each side of the saloon sky-lights, as Jarette stopped to give them some orders in a low tone, standing back from the light as if expecting a shot from below.

Then, as I watched them, feeling all the while as if I should like to be exactly over Walters' head and let myself fall right upon him, they went on to where Bob Hampton stood at the wheel, while I scanned eagerly the long boom of the mizzen-spanker, the great fore and aft canvas running off astern and towering up till it was all in darkness, for the lantern-light was only a poor gleam. Then Jarette began talking to Bob Hampton, but I could not and did not want to hear what the traitorous wretch said, feeling mad against him, and vexed with myself for ever having been at all friendly with the scoundrel. My attention was directed to the great boom of the mizzen-spanker and the stern-rail, which I could just faintly see as Walters turned the lantern here and there.

"Oh, if I only ever have the chance!" I muttered, as for a moment I thought of my companion, and though he was triumphant and I in so perilous a position, I would not have changed places, I told myself, for worlds.

I saw all I could, and then waited impatiently for what was to come next.

I soon knew, for Jarette and Walters came back, and passing the men on guard, descended to the main-deck and went forward, leaving all in darkness.

"Now for it," I muttered, and with my heart beating heavily, I thrust my hand into my pocket.

All right, my clasp-knife was there, and rising cautiously I stopped to think. Then satisfying myself that my recollections were correct, I began to feel about cautiously, as I now stood up, close to where the top-mast joined the mizzen, and was at first disappointed, but directly after my heart gave a throb of satisfaction, for my hand came in contact with that which I sought, the thin strong line that ran up from the deck right to the mizzen-truck, passed through it over a wheel, and came down again to the deck.

Opening my knife, I began to cut through the ascending line, and found it so hard and tough that the knife had hard work to get through. This was satisfactory, for it was evidently new and strong.

Then leaving one end hanging, I fastened the lower one to the first rope I could feel, so that it should not fall to the deck. Then I began to haul in the uncut portion, and found it came easily enough, but making every now and then a faint creaking noise as the wheel in the truck spun round.

I turned cold at this, for though it was very high up, I was afraid the sound would take the attention of the men on deck.

But they paid no heed, and I hauled away till I felt sure that I must have at least forty or fifty yards of the line—quite as much as I wanted; and then I used the knife again, and after replacing it, wound the line into a skein from elbow to hand, ending by hanging it round my neck with the ends twisted in so that they could not get loose.

So far, so good, but I had not fastened the other end of the line to save it from falling, and this I now did.

The next proceeding was, I knew, perilous, but I was desperate, and I did not hesitate. It was my only chance, I knew, and I must do it. There was the danger of being heard, and that of making a slip and going overboard. But I was young, strong, and active, and giving myself no time to think, I felt in the darkness for the crutch at the thick end of the gaff or yard which embraced the mizzen-mast below the top—the yard, that is, which spread the top of the mizzen-spanker—lowered myself down till I stood upon it, and then taking well hold with hands and knees, I began to creep softly up and along that diagonally stretched yard higher and higher till I felt that I must be over the sea.

But in my desperation I did not hesitate. I climbed on, and I know it was not easy; still I climbed on up that round perilous slope, feeling that if the sea had been rough I should have certainly been jerked off. And try hard as I would, I could not help making a little noise, which I felt sure Bob Hampton must hear, for there he was below me leaning over the wheel, and his head visible in the binnacle-light.

But he did not hear, and I crept on and upward on my chest, nipping the yard well with my knees, and clinging with my hands. It was hard and awkward work, for I had to pass the blocks and ropes which hoisted it up, and it swung inboard and out as the wind pressed upon the great bellying canvas, curving down below me to the great boom which ran out and over the steersman's head some feet above the stern-rail.

Still I climbed on and over the cords which laced the rail to the yard, and at last clung there, holding on for dear life, having reached the end with my hands, and grasping the top corner of the great sail edged with stout rope.

"Now Bob Hampton will hear me," I thought, and I stopped to think what I should do next. But not for long. Nipping the yard well with my knees, I passed the hank of line over my head, unfastened one end, and tied it securely round the top of the yard before letting the coils slide down inside the hollow curve of the sail, knowing that they would come apart as they glided down the stiff strong canvas. This done, I hesitated for a few moments before trusting myself to descend; but drawing a long breath at last, I took a good grip of the line with my left hand, of the rope-edge of the sail with the other, and began to slide down, keeping my chest as near as I could to the canvas.

This was terrible at first, for the upper part of the sail was a long way on toward being perpendicular, and I had to cling tightly to save myself from coming down with a run; but every foot after the first ten grew easier, so that I lay at last well on the great curve, and glided down almost in silence, only having to grip rope and line hard enough to keep a little check upon my descent. I followed the edge of the sail right away out over the sea, to where it was secured to the large horizontal projecting boom, and here my feet rested as I held on and looked inboard from where I insecurely stood, faintly making out the figure of Bob Hampton, who was in perfect ignorance of my descent, though how it was he did not hear the rustling I cannot make out, unless he was asleep—though he never would own to it in after days.

A doubly dangerous position I seemed to be in, though nothing to a sailor; still, in spite of my desperation, I felt nervous and strange as I now seated myself astride of the great boom riding up and down, and hauling up the line to find how much there was free.

Plenty to use double; and reaching up as high as I could, I once more cut it off, doubled it, and then hitched in along the boom till I was pretty close to the stern-rail, and now once more I made my end fast.

My plan must now be pretty clear to whoever reads, for I had determined to get down to this boom and then slide down the line to the stern cabin-windows, through one of which I hoped to be able to creep and join my friends.

Still the task was not easy, and I hesitated as I held on and looked down, for all was perfectly dark—so dark that I could not see whether the lights were open or closed; and if I slid down and found them closed, and could not make any one understand my position, I was doubtful as to whether I should be able to climb back. In that case, I should be swinging and swaying about there, growing weaker and weaker, till I had to let go and the great waters swallowed me, or I was finally saved by shouting for help till I was drawn up a prisoner, having run all these risks for nothing.

For a full ten minutes I was in despair. Then my courage returned, and I prepared to descend.

But there was another unfortunate matter. The pressure on the sail curved the boom well to starboard, so that at times it ran out in a way that would bring me, as I hung there, out of reach of the cabin-windows, so that I had to judge my time till there was not so much pressure, the boom had swung back a little, and then I at last prepared to descend.

But I did not begin even then, for I shuddered at the idea of not being able to climb back to the boom if I failed to get in, and to make a way back to safety I now hauled up my double line, and proceeded to tie knots all down it at intervals of about a foot, so as to have something better to grip than the bare rope.

Down I dropped it once more, waited for the boom to swing nearly level, and then gripping the line well with one hand, keeping my right arm over the boom, I leaned forward, drew my leg off from where I had been sitting, and the next minute I was hanging from the great rounded yard, and turning slowly round and round over the swirling water which rushed under on either side of the deeply-hidden rudder.

The distance I had to lower myself was not great, and finding now the value of the knots, and trying to give myself courage by saying that it was an easy job after all, I checked myself abreast of a window, but soon made out that it was closed, for I was not two feet away, and brought myself closer, and touched it by giving a kick against the stern. I got my feet close together, and rested on the knot, which, small though it was, gave me a great deal of support. I contrived, too, that my hands should also rest above a knot, and in this position I had to wait again and again, for the turning round motion kept on slowly, so that for the greater part of the time I was looking right away from the windows. In addition, there was the swaying movement of the great boom from which I was suspended, carrying me to and fro across the stern.

I dare not call out, and unless I swayed myself towards the stern I could not reach the windows, so I was rapidly beginning to find that what had promised to be the easiest part of my task was proving itself to be the hardest, when, probably from a turn of the wheel, the ship made quite a plunge. The big sail with its boom swung heavily, and of course communicated its motion to me, so that as the cord turned in its horribly giddy way, I first rode from side to side, and then by degrees to and fro, with the result that when nearest, I made a dash with one hand to tap on the window opposite to me; but being unable to govern the force exercised, my hand went right through the pane, and the glass fell tinkling to the floor within.

The perspiration stood out upon my face as I heard above me Bob Hampton's voice cry—

"Hullo! What's that?"

Almost at the same moment the cabin-window was opened, I had a faint glimpse of a face looking as if out of black mist, and Mr Frewen's voice said softly—

"Quick, some one; a knife."

"He's going to cut the rope," I thought, and I tried to shout, but it was like being in a nightmare: my tongue felt paralysed, and as I hung there clinging wildly to the rope I heard voices on deck.

"What is it? Trying to get out?" some one cried, and Bob Hampton said in answer—

"Dunno! Breaking glass."

"Where? The cabin-windows?"

"Yes."

But while this was going on, some one leaned out of the window, and the rope was seized. Then I felt it jar as if a knife-blade was being used upon it, and this as I had turned round, and my back was toward the window.

Then my voice came back with the power to speak, and in a quick whisper I said, as I felt that in another instant I should fall into the sea—

"Mr Frewen!—help!"

There was a quick ejaculation, and the sound of something dropped into the water; but at the same moment I felt my jacket seized by two strong hands, and I was drawn close in to the stern of the ship, and held there fast.

Then from overhead came in Jarette's voice—

"A lantern here, quick!"

Directly after, as I still held on to the line, and felt some one's hot breath against my cheek, there was a glow of light overhead, and Jarette cried—

"Here, cut this line."

Then the rope jarred heavily and was jerked. The next instant it gave way, and the strain I had maintained upon it was gone. I felt myself drop, but it was only an inch or two, for I was held tightly and drawn right into the cabin, where I crouched, listening to the altercation above my head, every word coming plainly to my ears and those of Mr Frewen, for of course it was he who had seized me.

Jarette was raging furiously at some one, whom he was accusing of helping the prisoners to escape.

Bob Hampton was the some one, for we heard him defending himself loudly.

"How could I help 'em to get out when I haven't left the wheel?"

"But there was a rope hanging down from the spanker-boom."

"I don't care if all the ropes in the ship hung down. I arn't moved. Ask them."

"No, he hasn't left the wheel," said a voice.

"How do you know? How could you see?" cried Jarette.

"Hadn't he got the binnacle-light on his phiz all the time, captain?"

"Then who did help them? Some one fastened that line. Look, there it is."

A lantern was held out over the stern, and there was a murmur of voices.

"That line doesn't belong there, and wasn't there yesterday," cried Jarette. "There's a traitor somewhere."

"All right, cap'n, find him then," said Bob Hampton, surlily.

"If it was you!" snarled Jarette.

"Look here, don't you shove that pistol in my face," cried Bob Hampton, angrily, "or I shall out with my knife and have a fight for it. What yer talking about? If I'd left the wheel, wouldn't the ship have yawed, and you come to see what was the matter?"

That sounded so convincing that Jarette was silent, while Bob Hampton continued—

"And if I'd wanted to help 'em to get on deck, do you think I should ha' been such a fool as to tie a bit o' signal halyard to the spanker-boom, when I could ha' made a bit o' strong rope fast to the belaying-pins, and hung it over the stern?"

Jarette growled out something we could not hear.

"Then it must have been one of them two," said Bob Hampton; "or they chucked it up from the cabin-window."

"It was not one of them," said Jarette, with a peculiar intonation in his voice. "I'm not afraid of that."

"Strikes me," growled Bob, "if yer wants to know my 'pinion, as it must have been some one who was up aloft."

I gave a jump.

"Hah!" cried Jarette, "whoever it was you lads chased. I know: it was that monkey of a boy."

Bob Hampton uttered a low chuckle.

"Like enough," he said.

"And you helped him."

"Oh, very well, then, have it your own way if you like; I helped him,— but how I could ha' done it, I don't know, cap'n, nor them two neither. I don't care. But look here, I'm down tired, and it's time some one else took his trick at the wheel. I want a sleep."

"If you play false to me, Bob Hampton," came in tones which made me shiver, "you'll have a sleep that will last you for always. Do you hear?—toujours!"

"Two jours, that's two days, arn't it, skipper?"

"No," hissed the man fiercely; "for ever. Here, Brown, bring an axe and a lantern. Stand it there."

We heard steps overhead, and a light gleamed down from the lantern placed upon the stern-rails.

"Now," said Jarette, "be always ready to bring that axe down upon the head of any man who tries to climb up from the cabin."

"Ay, ay," came in a low growl; and just then I became conscious of the face just over me, and it was lit from the outside; while farther back I could dimly make out other faces which were shadowy, and did not appear to be connected with bodies.

I knew directly after that it was not from the lantern placed on the stern-rail, but from the pale grey glare in the east, for I had reached my shelter none too soon. It was the beginning of another day.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

The light was coming fast now, as the sound of talking died out on the deck, and as I rose, Mr Frewen caught my hand.

"My dear lad," he whispered, "I thought you were gone. Thank God! thank God!"

"Isn't it horrible?" I whispered, though there was no necessity for restraining my voice.

"Horrible?" he said; "it seems to be impossible."

"Where's Captain Berriman?"

"In his cabin wounded."

"And Mr Brymer?"

"Yonder. Don't ask."

"Is any one else hurt?" I said, lowering my voice still more.

"I hardly know how many," he said. "It was a surprise. We were all mastered by treachery. Some traitor came amongst us, and when the attack began and the ship was seized, we were all fastened in our cabins."

"Some traitor!" I said, turning cold. "Yes, and they thought it must have been you. I heard some one accuse you in the dark, just after I had broken out of my cabin."

I was silent for a few moments, as I thought of whom the traitor must have been, though even to defend myself I could not speak out and accuse Walters.

"Who was it said I did it?" I whispered at last.

"I am not sure. Everything has been so dark and confused; I fancied for the moment that it was Mr Denning."

"I don't believe it was," I said stoutly. "He would not think I could be such a miserable, contemptible wretch."

"But you were not with us, Dale, and people are ready enough to accuse at a time like that."

"Mr Denning did not accuse him," said a weak voice, and there close by us stood Mr Denning himself, looking almost ghastly in the pale morning light which stole into the cabin. "Alison Dale could not be such a scoundrel."

"Thank you, Mr Denning," I said, grasping the hand he held out to me, as with the other he supported himself by resting, as I saw, upon a double-barrelled gun. "I shan't defend myself. If I had been the traitor, I should not be here now. I didn't think I could manage it."

I was eagerly questioned, and had to explain how I escaped, and to tell all that I knew of the attack, and as I spoke I could not help noticing how distant Mr Frewen and Mr Denning seemed, and I thought that now we were in such trouble they would perhaps become friends.

I had another surprise before I had told all about my escape, for from out of one of the cabins, looking horrible with his head tied up by a stained handkerchief, Mr Brymer appeared, and I saw that he was evidently weak and faint from his wound.

"Can you tell us anything about who is at the head of the mutiny?" he asked. "I was cut down, and could hardly understand anything in the darkness, till I seemed to wake and find myself on the saloon-floor, below the table where I must have crawled."

I told him that Jarette was at the head of it all.

"Ah, I always mistrusted that man, and the gang he gathered about him. Where is the rest of the crew then; I mean those they did not kill—down in the forecastle?"

I was silent for a few moments, and he repeated his question.

"I'm afraid they have all joined him."

"No, no; not men like Hampton and Dumlow. They were of a different stamp."

I told him what I knew, and I heard him grind his teeth.

"The scoundrels!" he muttered.

"There is no telling what a man may do for dear life," said Mr Frewen, sadly.

"But Walters. Did you see anything of him?" said Mr Brymer.

I was silent. Something seemed to choke me, and I could not speak for the hot indignation I felt.

"Poor boy!" groaned Mr Brymer. "I never liked him, but it is horrible for him to have come to such an end as this."

"Yes!" I said bitterly, as I found my tongue; "horrible for him to have come to such an end as this."

They did not grasp the truth, and I would not tell them.

"They'll know soon enough," I thought.

"Well, gentlemen," said Mr Denning, speaking now, "there is no doubt about the catastrophe. What is to be done?"

"Barricade the companion-way," said Mr Frewen, "and shoot down every ruffian who tries to enter. There is a lady on board, and we must defend her with our lives."

I saw Mr Denning dart an angry look at the young doctor, whose pale face had lighted up so that he looked eager and animated.

"What do you say, Mr Brymer?" said Mr Denning, turning from the doctor.

"The same as Mr Frewen," was the reply. "Doctor, you'll have to patch me up so that I can fight a bit."

"Your spirit will do more for you than I can, sir," was the reply. "I am sorry to say, though, that Captain Berriman is completely prostrated. He must have received a crushing blow from behind."

"Then you will fight?" said Mr Denning, eagerly.

"Of course," said the mate quickly. "Now, gentlemen, please, the first thing is to pile up all the chests and boxes we have at command in the companion-way, so as to keep out the ruffians. They will get at the drink, and then stop at nothing. I'm afraid I cannot lift, but I can fire a pistol or a gun."

"And I cannot lift," said Mr Denning, with his eyes flashing, "but I can fire with this and take good aim. I brought it to shoot birds on the voyage. It will be gaol-birds now!"

Just then there was a stir and movement on deck, and the men gathered in that saloon made a rush for the door with such fierce determination that my heart gave a leap, and I felt that I was about to see blood shed, as I had often read of it in books. But this was no romance.

There were quick whispers, and as it rapidly grew lighter I saw Mr Denning stand right in the centre with the mate and Mr Frewen, all armed with guns ready to fire upon any one who appeared; but the alarm passed off, and Mr Denning being left on guard, the others all set to work carrying chests and portmanteaus from the different cabins, so many being available that they were used as so many bricks, and carefully built up from floor to ceiling, but with openings left in through which the defenders of the saloon could fire when the attack was made.

I worked eagerly with all the rest till the big entry was completely filled up, Mr Frewen taking the lead, and lifting and packing in the chests, till the solid wall was formed—one so well bonded together, as a bricklayer would call it, that it seemed to me that it would require a battering-ram to force a way through.

As I walked away, hurrying eagerly first into one cabin and then another, in search of trunks and portmanteaus that would fit into the various openings, I suddenly found myself face to face with Miss Denning, whose pallid countenance lit-up on seeing me, and she held out her hand to cling to mine.

"Oh, Mr Dale," she whispered half hysterically, "is there much danger?"

"Oh no, I hope not," I said, speaking in an encouraging way; but she shook her head.

"Don't—don't speak to me like that," she cried. "I'm not a child. Be frank with me, and tell me as if I were your sister. There is danger, is there not?"

"Well, I'm afraid there'll be a fight," I said; "but we have plenty of firearms, and we've got right on our side, and I hope we shall give the scoundrels such a lesson that they will come down on their knees."

"I'm afraid not," she said. "But tell me, why is it? Is it what they call a mutiny? I thought all such things were over now."

"So did I, Miss Denning," I said; "but that's what it is. I never thought of it before, but I suppose we must have a very valuable cargo on board."

"Yes, my brother said there was a large sum in specie."

"Money, that is, isn't it?" I said. "Well then, that's what has tempted the scoundrels. But don't you be frightened. Mr Frewen and the rest will take care that the blackguards don't get into the cabin, and I'm going to try if I cannot fight too."

She pressed my hand and smiled sadly.

"Yes, I know you and your brother midshipman will be very brave and fight for us," she said, with a quiet satisfied nod of the head, and I winced as I thought about Walters; but she did not notice it, and went on, "You had a very narrow escape, did you not?"

"Oh, I had to run and dodge about in the dark, and then came down a rope," I replied; "but that was nothing much." And as I spoke I could see that she was hardly paying any attention to my words, but watching the cabin-door and listening.

"Tell me how my brother is," she whispered. "Is he quite safe?"

"Oh yes, and on guard."

"He is so ill and weak, it frightens me," she said; "but he will not listen to me and stay here."

"No," I replied, "how could he as an English gentleman at a time like this!"

She gave me a quick, half-resentful look; but her face lit-up directly and she smiled.

"I suppose you are right," she said with a sigh. "It is so hard to be a woman, and not be able to help. I should not mind so much if I could be busy."

"But there is nothing to do now, Miss Denning," I said,—"that is, for you. There, I must go now."

"Tell me though—my brother ordered me to stay here in the cabin—tell me—couldn't I be of some help? The captain and mate are both wounded, are they not?"

"Yes, a little," I said encouragingly; "but Mr Frewen has seen to them. Shall I ask him if you can come and attend on the captain?"

"Yes; do!" she cried. Then quickly—"No, no! I must go by what my brother says."

"And I must go out in the saloon and help. When all is safe I shall see you again."

"When all is safe," she whispered despondently.

"Yes, and it is going to be. Oh, it will be all right. May I take this?"

I pointed to a chest, and she tried to say yes, but only gave a nod; and shouldering the little box, I hurried with it to find that it was not wanted, for Mr Frewen was just forcing one in between the top of the pile and the ceiling, by standing upon a box which Mr Preddle was holding steady.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

"Oh dear me—dear me, Alison Dale," said Mr Preddle, rising up from his stooping position very slowly and wiping his broad fat face, which was covered with drops of perspiration, "this is a very sad business, isn't it?"

"Horrible!" I said, "but it will all come right." He laid his hand upon my shoulder.

"Come into my cabin," he whispered; and I followed him.

"You think it will come right?" he said, looking at me in a terribly perplexed way.

"Oh yes, I think so," I said; "Mr Denning and Mr Frewen will give the rascals a good peppering and bring them to their senses."

"And so will I!" he cried excitedly. "I never tried to fight seriously since I left school, but I don't see why I shouldn't be able to if I tried,—do you?"

"Of course not sir," I replied, smiling. I wanted to laugh outright, for he did not at all come up to my ideas of a fighting man.

"I can see," he went on mildly, "you don't think I could, but I shall try."

"I won't laugh at you, Mr Preddle," I said; "indeed you have more cause to laugh at me when I say that, boy as I am, I mean to fight and try to defend Miss Denning."

He caught hold of my hand, held it in his left, and brought his big soft right down into it with a sounding slap, and then squeezed my fingers as hard as he could.

"That you will, Alison. You're a brave lad, I know. We'll all try and fight like men against the ruffians. Like lions, eh, Dale? Like lions."

"To be sure, sir," I said; "but hadn't we better go back into the saloon?"

"Yes, yes, directly," he said hastily, and I saw him turn very red in the face. "I suppose the mutineers know that we have a very valuable cargo?"

"Yes, sir; I expect that's it," I replied. "But they're not going to have it. We'll sink the ship first, and escape in one of the boats."

"To be sure we will, but it's a sad business, Dale. There is my consignment of salmon and trout. Do you think the scoundrels would let me go and see to them?"

"No, sir," I said, "I don't believe they would. Come along."

"I'm afraid you are right. Yes; I'll come directly; but there was something else that I wanted to say to you. Dear me, what a memory I have! Oh, I know!"

He stopped short and turned redder than ever, while I stared and waited.

"Yes; it was about—oh yes—that was it. It's a terrible business, and—how does Miss Denning seem? Does she bear up about it all?"

"Well, pretty fairly, sir. Of course she is very much alarmed, and she is anxious about her brother."

"Is she, though?" he said. "Poor girl. Of course, yes, she would be. Did she seem very anxious about any one else—Mr Frewen, for instance?"

"No, sir; I don't remember that she mentioned him."

"Poor girl. No, of course not, nor me neither, I suppose?"

"Oh no, I'm sure of that, sir," I said decisively. "She certainly did not mention your name. But we must go back now, sir, and see if we are wanted."

"Of course. Come along," said Mr Preddle, hurriedly; and we went into the saloon, where I found the captain standing by the table in the middle, looking very white, and I saw now that his arm was in a sling, and the lower part of his head bandaged.

He was arranging some pistols and rifles on the table as we entered, and he looked up, nodded at us, and said—

"Two more. There, boy, you'll have to try and fight with the rest of us."

"I'll try, sir," I said, and I looked at him wonderingly, for I had been under the impression that he was unwell in the cabin; I had forgotten the fact that he too had been on deck and received several severe injuries when the mutineers made their attack.

"Oh, look here, Dale," he said suddenly, "while I think of it, my lad. I went on deck last night to have a look round at the weather, and when I came back I found that my cabin-door was fastened up. Was that your doing?"

"No, sir," I replied. "Certainly not."

"That's right," he said, looking at me searchingly. "I went back on deck to make some inquiries, and when I reached the men's quarters, I was attacked. But I should like to clear that matter up. The steward swears it was not his doing; it would not have been one of the crew. Where is your messmate, Walters?"

I shook my head.

"Not hurt?" he cried, anxiously.

"No, sir. Not that I know of. Last time I saw him he was quite well."

"Where is he?"

There was a dead silence for a few moments, and then Mr Brymer spoke—

"Poor Walters is not with us, sir."

"What?" cried Captain Berriman. "Poor lad! Poor lad!" Then after a pause, "He is a prisoner then?"

"Yes, sir, we suppose so," replied Mr Brymer, and I heard the captain groan, while a hot feeling of indignation rose in my breast.

"Poor Walters!" and all that pity and sympathy for the ill-conditioned cowardly young wretch. I felt that I must speak out and tell all that I knew, but somehow I could not; and to this day I have never been able to settle in my own mind whether I was right or wrong.

"Well," said the captain at last, "we have no time to waste upon sympathy. I am sorry to say, gentlemen, that I fear I can do little in this terrible emergency. You have decided to defend yourselves, and, God helping us we may get back our positions in the ship, but it can only be by making a stout defence, and waiting for an opportunity to surprise the scoundrels at some weak moment, say when they have been for a long time at the spirits on board."

"To be sure," said Mr Frewen. "There is no cause for despair with such a formidable arrangement. The scoundrels dare not attack us."

"Well," said Captain Berriman, slowly, "I have brought out all the arms, but I have a painful announcement to make. The traitor who came round to secure us in our cabins had carried off all the cartridges he could, and those left in the cases had been deluged with water."

"Great heaven!" cried Mr Frewen, excitedly; "then the weapons are useless." Captain Berriman was silent.

"Stop a moment!" cried Mr Frewen; and he ran into his cabin, to return with a revolver which he threw on the table. "Useless," he said. "The case of cartridges gone. Here, Mr Denning, see to your gun,—see what cartridges you have."

Mr Denning threw open the breech of his double-barrelled gun, examined the two cartridges, and closed the breech again.

"All right!" he said, and then he reeled and would have fallen if Mr Preddle had not caught him.

"Don't!" he cried, pettishly. "I mean, thank you. It was a horrible thought. I saw some one come out of my cabin last evening, I'm sure now. I thought then it was fancy. Some one has been—to steal—the case of cartridges I brought."

He walked feebly but quickly to his cabin, shut the door after him, and then Mr Preddle went to his cabin, to come back directly, shaking his head.

"Some one has taken all mine but one," he said. "The lid is off the box, and this is the only one left."

"But your gun is loaded?"

"Yes, there are two in that," replied Mr Preddle, "and I hope Mr Denning will be more fortunate in his search."

At that moment Mr Denning made his appearance, and from his aspect we all thought that his supply had been taken too, but his face lit-up as he exclaimed—

"They could not find them. The cartridge-box was at the bottom of the locker."

"Ha!" cried Mr Frewen, triumphantly. "How many have you?"

"A hundred, for I have not fired off one."

"And what bore is your gun?"

"Twelve-bore."

"And yours?"

"Sixteen."

"That's the same size as mine," said Mr Preddle, quietly. "I'm afraid those of yours would not fit."

"Fit? No!" cried Mr Frewen, impatiently. "They would be absolutely useless."

"And of course we could not load in the old-fashioned way if we took out the powder," said Mr Preddle.

The doctor turned away, and I saw him look anxiously toward the barricade he had so carefully built up. Then gravely—

"We have the charges in our guns, gentlemen; when they are expended we must trust to Mr Denning."

The captain spoke again—

"Have you examined as to what provisions and water we have, Brymer?"

"Yes, sir, enough for about three days, without counting anything our passenger friends have in the way of private stores—preserved meat, delicacies, or the like."

"Yes, but the water?" said the captain, naming the grave necessity of life in that hot climate.

"I must frankly say a very short supply, sir."

There was another ominous silence, as all thought of our numbers.

Then Mr Frewen spoke—

"This all sounds very bad, Captain Berriman, but we are not going to give in. The ammunition and provisions are on board the ship, and when a besieged garrison runs short, it makes sallies to obtain fresh supplies. But we have not arrived at that starvation point yet. Before then the ship may be under the rule of Captain Berriman once again."

"Hist!" I cried, in an excited whisper, and I pointed up at the sky-light, across which a shadow lay, cast by the newly-risen sun which had flooded the cabin with gold.

"Listening, eh?" said Mr Brymer, and stepping softly on one side, he took one of the guns, and, with a sudden motion, thrust it through.

There was a bound and the rush of feet as the shadow disappeared.

"A guilty conscience needs no accuser," said the mate, laughing, "a criminal running away from an empty gun!"

"A lesson for us in being cautious in making our plans," observed Mr Frewen. "Now, Captain Berriman, will you give us our orders?"

"My first idea is, gentlemen, that one of you stand on guard there by the door, and, if the opportunity offers, he is to shoot down that scoundrel Jarette. They're coming. Now, on guard."