"I wish you would talk common-sense, Jarette, and not be so fond of chaffing me. You'll make me wish some day that I had not joined you."

The Frenchman laughed derisively. "Why, my little brave," he cried, "what a dust-filled-eyed one you think me. Do I not know that you have been in a tremble ever since?"

"No, you don't," said Walters, sharply. "I'm sure I've done everything I can."

"My faith, yes; we will say it is so," said Jarette, with another sneering laugh. "It is wonderful how nervous men are who have their necks in the noose—boys too."

At that moment we felt Hampton softly loosen his hold of the rope with one hand, and pass it and his arm in at the window so as to get a grip inside, for evidently he expected that the rope would be discovered and cut. Though even then, unless Jarette were willing to save him, it would only be prolonging his existence for a few minutes, since it would have been impossible for us to draw so bulky a man through the circular hole which lit and ventilated Mr Frewen's cabin.

But he was safe for the time, come what might, and we remained there listening to the conversation overhead, gathering that there was very little friendship existing between Walters and his new captain, who let us know that he was in great perplexity about his prisoners, and certainly not in the mind then to end their lives. What might happen afterwards we could not say.

At last, after some minutes that felt like hours, they went on and down the ladder to the lower deck.

"Phew!" panted Bob Hampton. "Oh, my lad, my lad, why didn't you whistle a jig out of the window?"

"Why didn't I what?" I cried.

"Whistle a toon, my lad. That would ha' let 'em know you could hear 'em talking, and they'd ha' gone. Hold me tight, please, for I'm 'bout spent."

The man spoke so faintly that we took alarm.

"No, no, Bob," I whispered. "Don't say that. Rest for a few moments, and then climb back on deck."

"Rest?" he said, in so pitiful a tone that I tightened my grasp all I possibly could, and felt how absurd my advice was to a man in such a position.

"You couldn't haul me in?" he whispered faintly.

"No," I said despairingly. "It is impossible."

"Impossible it is," he groaned. "Well, I shall have to face it."

"What do you mean, man?" whispered Mr Frewen.

"What we've all got to face, doctor. I couldn't swarm up that rope again."

"Dale, could we get the rope round his waist, and hold him?" whispered Mr Frewen.

"Here! hist! quick!" came through the opening where Mr Preddle was listening all the time.

"Silence!" cried Mr Frewen, sternly. "What do you say, Hampton?"

"I says as if you takes the line from under my feet for half a moment down I goes, for all the feeling's gone out of my arms. I'm done."

"No, no," I whispered in desperation. "Hold on, Bob; we must—we will save you."

"Ay, lad," he said dolefully, "I'll hold on as long as I can; but if you two are going to save me, you'll have to be very smart about it, I'm afraid."

"Mr Frewen! Dale!" came from the opening.

"Silence, I say!" cried the doctor, fiercely.

"I won't be silent," cried Mr Preddle. "Here, Dale, take this; I've pushed it through as far as I can reach. Give it him. Brandy."

"Ah!" ejaculated Mr Frewen. "Quick."

I had already reached out with the hand which I had taken from Hampton's wrist, and was fishing about with it in the dark, but without a bite.

"Where is it?" I cried; but as I spoke my knuckles came in contact with the leather-covered flask so sharply, that I knocked it out of Mr Preddle's hand, and it fell with a bang on the floor, upon which the spirit began to gurgle out.

Bob Hampton groaned, and I felt that all was over; but hanging on to the rope I bent down, and guided by the sound seized the flask, gave it a shake, which told me that there was yet a good deal inside, and the next moment I was holding it to the poor fellow's lips, and listening to the gurgling the spirit made as he gulped quite a couple of mouthfuls down.

I knew he had taken it all, for I had at last raised the flask quite upright, and he drew his lips away.

"Now, Hampton," whispered Mr Frewen, "hold on for a little till the spirit begins to stimulate you."

"It's begun a'ready, doctor," was the answer. "It's put new life into me, sir, and I'm going to make a try for it directly."

"Not for a minute, man, not for a minute."

"In half a minute, sir, or it's of no good, for I'm a heavy man."

I tried to speak, but no words would come, for I felt as if my mouth and throat were quite dry, and there I stood hanging on to the rope, till in a curious hoarse whisper the man said—

"I'd say make fast the end o' the rope about me; but—"

"Can you hold on the while?" I said; for my voice came back at this.

"Try, lad."

I don't know how I did it in so short a time; but it was Bob Hampton's teaching that made me so quick, as, leaving Mr Frewen to hold up the bight, I seized the end, passed it round the man's chest, and made it fast, and as I finished he said softly—

"Here goes!"

Then he began to climb, and as he went up I soon found that the rope was being drawn through our hands. But we kept our touch of it, so that if he fell we could still let it glide till he reached the water, and then hold on till a boat was lowered to save him. Up he went, breathing very hard, higher and higher, with a loud, rustling noise. Then he stopped a little, and we tightened our hold, for we thought he was gone; but he struggled on again, up and up, and at last hung quite still, and now we felt that it was all over, for he was exhausted. I listened for the horrible splash, but it did not come, for he began again, and we heard one of his hands give a sharp smack.

"What's that?" whispered Mr Preddle through the opening, but neither of us replied.

We could not, though we knew that Bob Hampton must have loosened his grip of the rope with one hand to make a dash at the top of the bulwarks. Then there came a faint scraping sound, and I turned giddy from the cessation of the intense drag upon my brain. For I knew that the poor fellow had reached the deck. In proof thereof the rope was shaken sharply, and then jerked out of our hands. A faint scraping sound followed, and I knew it was being drawn up.

I heard no more till Mr Frewen spoke to me; his voice sounding strange through a peculiar, loud, humming noise in my ears.

"Feel better, my lad?"

"Better!" I said wonderingly. "I'm not ill."

"Oh no," he said, "not ill; only a little faint."

"Here," I said sharply, "why did you lay me on the floor?"

"You fell," he said; "or rather you slipped down. There, drink a little of this water."

"Is he all right again?" came out of the darkness in a sharp whisper.

"Yes, coming round now," I heard Mr Frewen say.

"Yes, I remember now," I cried quickly. "But Bob Hampton, did he get up safely?"

"Yes, quite safely."

Just then there was a sharp rattling of the door, and it was thrown open, while I closed my lids, so dazzling did the light of the lanterns which were held up above the heads of Jarette and Walters seem to my aching eyes.



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

"Here, what's all this noise about?" cried Jarette, roughly; and his words gave me intense relief, for I knew that he must be in ignorance of all that had taken place.

"I was not aware, sir, that we were making any noise," said Mr Frewen, coldly.

"Then what's the matter, doctor?"

"You can see, sir. The lad has been taken ill. No wonder, shut up in this stifling cabin."

"Humph! My faith, yes. One is enough. Make him well, and he shall have another to himself to-morrow."

"Not if I know it," I said to myself, as I lay with my eyes closed, thinking how I would sham being too ill to leave the doctor's cabin; but directly after feeling quite in dismay, for it struck me that if I were not taken away, Mr Frewen might be, and then all our proposed plans would be upset.

I opened my eyes with quite a start just then, for to my great delight a gruff voice exclaimed—

"He arn't ill. Wants a bucket of cold water drawn and soused over him. That'd put him right."

"You speak when you're spoken to, Bob Hampton," said Jarette, with a snarl.

"All right, skipper—cap'n, I mean; all right."

"Yes, it's all right," I said to myself, with a sigh of relief, as I closed my eyes again and lay quite still, listening to what passed.

"Well," said Jarette, "what are you going to do? Oh, that is some stuff you are going to give him."

"Yes, you need not wait," said Mr Frewen, quietly. "But you had better leave me a light."

"What for? Set the ship on fire?"

"If I wanted to set the ship on fire, I have plenty of matches," said Mr Frewen.

His imitation of the renegade Frenchman's pronunciation of the word "ship" was almost involuntary, and he told me afterwards how he regretted making such a slip, for Jarette winced and darted a malignant look at him which was not pleasant to see.

He did not speak again, but stood looking on while Mr Frewen held some water to my lips, and bathed my temples, both of which proceedings were quite needless, for I was quite recovered now from my faintness, and he ended by helping me to lie down in the cot.

Upon seeing this, Jarette said something shortly to his followers and they drew back, the door was closed, and we were in total darkness once again.

"And all that trouble, care, and suffering for nothing, Dale," said Mr Frewen, dolefully.

"For nothing?" I said, sitting up. "Do you call it nothing to have found out that we have three strong men on the other side ready to fight for us? I don't."

"I had forgotten that for the moment," said my companion. "Yes, that is worth all our trouble; but I'm afraid poor Hampton will not venture to communicate with us again, so what do you say to beginning our sawing business once more?"

"Oh no: not to-night!" I said. "Perhaps Bob Hampton will be able to propose a better way next time he comes."

"If he does come, my lad."

"Ah, you don't know him so well as I do, Mr Frewen. He is sure to come again."

"I hope he will, my lad."

"Oh, he will; and you see if he does not tell us to wait until he and Neb Dumlow are on guard. They'll get us out and then help us to open the cabins one by one."

"Nothing like being sanguine, my lad," he said; "but there, it's getting very late. Let's sleep now."

I did not feel at all disposed to obey, and lay still, watching the stars through the open cabin-window, thinking over the events of the earlier part of the night, till the stars were blotted out, and I was as fast asleep as Mr Frewen, or our fellow-prisoner in the next cabin, who breathed so heavily that when I was awake it sounded like a snore.

I seemed to be watching the stars one minute, and the dazzling water the next, for the sun was high when I opened my eyes again, and the sea looked of such a delicious blue, that it was hard to feel low-spirited, and trouble oneself about our failure.

Mr Frewen lay on the floor fast asleep, and I was thinking whether I had not better follow his example, when I started up and gave my head a thump against the top of the cot, for something suddenly appeared at the round opening of the cabin-window, and for a moment I thought it was a bird. The next I was out of my cot and close to the window, waiting for an opportunity to make a snatch at the object swinging to and fro.

I could have made a dart at it instantly, but I wanted to make sure, knowing as I did that Bob Hampton or one of his men must be leaning over the bulwarks listening, and that the bait at the end of the thin line hanging down over our window was intended for me.

At last I made a snatch at the object, but it only swung out of reach; then another snatch, but all in vain. But the last time I was successful, for one of my hands flew out, and I caught hold of and dragged the bait in, cut the line with my pocket-knife, and saw it snatched up out of sight directly.

I made some slight noise in starting back, and Mr Frewen rose quickly to his elbow to stare in my excited face.

"What is it?" he said in a hurried whisper.

For answer I held before him a packet of something made up in a piece of canvas, and tied round with spun-yarn.

"Let down to the cabin-window," I whispered, full of excitement, for the packet was heavy, and I had my suspicions as to what it contained.

I had my knife still in my hand, and my fingers itched to cut the yarn and open the parcel; but I thrust it beneath the blanket on the cot, and went to the cabin-door to listen.

All was silent there, and though I listened for a few minutes, there did not seem to be any one stirring on deck, so I turned back to Mr Frewen, who was now standing by the cot, with his hands under the blanket, and offered him the knife.

"I believe there are pistols inside, Dale," he whispered.

"I'm sure of it," I said. "Open it quick. I'll stand on this side."

He now stood between the parcel and the cabin-door so as to shelter our treasure, which was turned out of the canvas the next minute, and proved to be the weapons named, a pair that I remembered to have seen in Captain Berriman's cabin, and with them plenty of ammunition.

"Loaded!" whispered Mr Frewen. "Be careful with yours."

"Mine?" I said.

"Yes; one is for you, and I hope you will not have to use it; but these are stern times, Dale, and we must not be squeamish now."

After a few moments' consideration, it was decided to hide one pistol at the foot of the cot, and the other beneath a quantity of drugs in the big medicine-chest which stood in one corner of the cabin.

"Hah!" said my companion, smiling for the first time for days. "I begin to feel a little more hopeful now, Dale. You and I are going to take the ship yet. That was Hampton's work, of course?"

"Sure to be," I said, and we now began to turn over every plan we could think of for getting our freedom.

"I want to do it if I can, my lad, without shedding blood, unless one could not do that without risking life."

I could not help shuddering slightly at this.

That day passed by slowly and monotonously. We were visited from time to time by Jarette or one of his men, but always with a strong guard outside, in which I noted Blane and Dumlow, but they were not allowed to enter the cabin or hold any communication with us, for they had not originally been of the mutineer party, and Jarette evidently mistrusted them still.

I was anxious and excited for fear that orders should come for me to occupy another cabin, but none came, and no more orders for Mr Frewen to see the captain. Toward evening a strong wind arose, which kept Jarette's men pretty well occupied in reducing sail.

"The scoundrel must be a good seaman," Mr Frewen said to me that night. "The ship is well handled, you see, and it strikes me that we are going to have a rough night."

His words proved true, for now as the ship rose and fell creaking and groaning, and the wind swished through the rigging, I could begin to realise how horrible it was to be shut below there in the darkness, for if those now in command of the vessel proved wanting at some particular crisis of the storm, our fate was sealed. They might try to save themselves in the boats, but they would not stop for us.

"What are you thinking about?" said Mr Frewen, suddenly, some time after dark.

I started, for we had been silent for some time, listening to the hiss and roar of the waves, and the rough blows given from time to time as some heavy sea struck us and then rushed by. And now that Mr Frewen did speak it was quite aloud, for there was no need for whispering.

"I was thinking about what Captain Berriman and Mr Brymer must feel," I said.

"About the management of the ship? Yes, poor fellows, and both suffering too. You see that scoundrel has let the whole day pass by without letting me go and attend the captain. You are right, Dale, they must both be feeling horribly about the ship. Think you can sleep?"

"Sleep? No; nor you. It is far too rough for that. Think this is a good seaworthy ship, Mr Frewen?"

"I think so. I hope so," he replied. "The owners stand high for their character. I wish the crew were as good as the ship. Dale, do you think we might break out to-night? We could do it without being heard; I am sure that I could saw round the lock of the door."

"But Bob Hampton and the others would not be ready for us, and we should not have their help," I protested.

"But this seems such a chance, my lad, with all that noise, and I want to be clear in case of accidents."

"Hist!"

"What is it?"

"Something tapped at the cabin-window."

I ran to it, and began to unscrew the fastening, for it was closed tightly to keep out the spray, since more than once a great wave had struck against it with a heavy thud that evening, and we did not want a wet cabin to add to our other miseries.

I swung open the round iron frame, and gazed at the furious sea, all covered with its white foam, but there was nothing visible for a time. Then all at once something swung by as the ship rose after careening over and literally rolling in the hollow between two great waves.

It was momentary, and like a faint shadow, but directly after, with the swing as of some great pendulum, it passed by again.

The next time I was ready for it, feeling as I did that it was some of Bob Hampton's work, and reaching out as far as I could get my arm, I gazed straight before me, trying vainly to make out what it was in the darkness.

"See anything?"

"No," I said; but the next instant something struck my hand, swept by, came back, and I had hold of it to draw into the cabin, cut the string again, and then hastily closed the window—just in time too, for a wave broke against it directly after with a heavy thud.



CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

As soon as the roar and rush of water had passed, Mr Frewen whispered—

"Another pistol?"

"Yes," I said, for I had been hurriedly tearing off the drenched canvas in which it had been wrapped so securely that though the woollen bag in which pistol and cartridges lay was quite damp, as far as I could tell they were none the worse for being dipped again and again into the sea.

For there is a capital quality in canvas as a protector; as the material gets thoroughly soaked it swells and tightens, till it is a long way on toward being waterproof; and after carefully feeling the weapon, and examining it in every way we could in the darkness, Mr Frewen expressed his opinion that it was uninjured, and placed it in his breast to dry.

"This will do for Mr Preddle," he said, and after listening at the door, where nothing was to be heard but the creaking of the ship's timbers as she laboured on, sounding to me as if at any moment she might come to pieces, my fellow-prisoner tapped softly at the partition, and placing his lips to the opening, called softly upon Mr Preddle.

This had to be repeated several times without effect, and it was not until I had taken Mr Frewen's place and jerked a little empty phial bottle through, so that it fell upon him where he was sleeping, that Mr Preddle started up and cried loudly—

"Who's there?"

"Hist!" I whispered, and he came quickly to the opening.

"Oh, it's you," he said. "I had just lain down, and the noise of the waves prevented my hearing you."

"I thought you were asleep," I said dryly.

"Asleep? Well, perhaps I was nearly. You've come to tell me that all the water will be tossed out of those trays. Oh, my poor fish!"

"I hadn't," I said, "Mr Frewen wants to speak to you. He has a pistol for you ready for when we try to escape."

"Oh dear! oh dear!" he sighed. "We shall never try to escape. We're shut in here, and shall be drowned. Is the ship going down?"

"No, no; she'll ride it out."

"But those men don't know how to manage her, do they?"

"I think so," I replied. "I don't half understand big ships, but they seem to be doing what my father would do with a yacht."

"Let me come, Dale," whispered Mr Frewen.

I drew back, but I was still near enough to hear every word that was said as the pistol was passed through by Mr Frewen.

"Take it, and be careful. When it is light, you had better make sure that there is no moisture in the chambers."

"But when are we going to try and do something?" said Mr Preddle, in quite an ill-used tone. "I thought you were going to saw out one of these boards."

"We are going to act as soon as the word comes from our friends outside. We can do nothing better than be ready."

I clapped my hand over Mr Frewen's lips, and forcing myself by him, whispered sharply to Mr Preddle—

"Quick,—lie down!"

I had no occasion to warn my companion, for he had seen my reason for checking him, and lay down at the side of the cabin, while I glided into the cot. For I had caught sight of a gleam of light beneath the door, and I had hardly settled myself in my sleeping-place, the noise of the waves and wind covering any sounds we made, when the door was thrown open, and Jarette and two men stood in the entrance, holding up lanterns which made their dripping oilskins glisten.

I jumped up directly.

"Is she going down?" I asked.

Jarette made no reply, but glanced quickly round to satisfy himself that we were not taking advantage of the storm to try and escape, while Mr Frewen rose as if he had expected to be called.

"You want me to come and see the captain?" he said quietly.

"No," was the abrupt reply, and the men drew back, the door was shut and fastened, and we were once more in darkness, listening to the labouring of the ship as she rose and fell, plunging every now and then head-first into some great wave which broke over her and deluged the decks.

The faint streak of light disappeared from under the door-way, and we breathed freely again as there were heavy steps overhead, and I could tell that in all probability Jarette and the others had gone to join the man—or men—at the wheel.

"I don't envy that madman his position, Dale," said Mr Frewen. "His mind must be in a pleasant state of anxiety, what with the management of the ship in a storm, his doubts about his prisoners, and the pleasant little fancies he must have about the laws of our country."

"I think we're best off after all, aren't we?" I said. "Hush!—he's back again. No—it's Mr Preddle."

"Are you people asleep?" came from the partition.

"Hush! Go away," I heard Mr Frewen whisper loudly, as after all I found that I had been deceived, for Jarette had evidently come back to spy upon and trap us; for, with my breath held in my excitement, I could hear the rustle of a hand upon the outside of the door, and then a faint clicking and rustling sound, as if the fastenings were being softly withdrawn.

"Oh, how I should like to give him a topper!" I thought, as I rose upon my elbow and listened, making out, in spite of the roar of the storm, every movement of our enemy.

"Why, if Mr Frewen liked, he could strike him down senseless, and then we should be masters of the ship, for the men would give in if they had no leader."

People's minds have a way of running in the same groove when there is anything very particular to be done, and it was so here, for Mr Frewen was thinking, as he told me afterwards, exactly as I did.

But now I could hear nothing but the creaking of the ship and the roar of the storm, and I was not sure whether the door had been opened or not. Suppose it had been, I thought, and Jarette was going to do some mischief in the darkness!

It was a horrible thought, one which made the perspiration stand upon my forehead, and begin to tickle the sides of my nose, as I listened intently for the next movement, or for the sound of his breathing.

But still I could hear nothing, and I longed for a few moments' cessation of the thud of the waves and hiss and splash which followed, just as a billow came over the bows and swept the deck with a tremendous rush and noise.

That was what our visitors had been waiting for. The door had only been unfastened. It was now opened with a quick dash, so that the noise it would make might be covered by the storm.

Yes; I could mentally see it all now, though everything was black as ink. Jarette was standing in the door-way in his oilskins, for I could hear the crackling sound they made as the noise from the deck and the hiss of the wind came plainer, and then too, drip, drip,—in those moments I could hear the water falling from the coat on to the cabin-floor.

It was all in so many moments. He seemed to be listening either for any sound we might make, or for what was passing on deck; and then as he took a step forward into the cabin, there was a sudden rush, a struggle, and for the moment, as my blood ran cold, I thought that Jarette had seized and was about to murder poor Mr Frewen.

My hand went to the foot of the cot, and I was dragging out the revolver hidden there, when a hoarse voice exclaimed in a husky whisper—

"Avast! what are yer doing on, Mr Frewen?—you'll choke me."

"You, Hampton?"

"Ay, at present."

"I thought it was Jarette," said Mr Frewen, panting.

"Wish it had been, my lad," said the sailor, in the same husky whisper. "My word, you have got a grip! But there, I must get back; on'y look here. There'll never be a better chance. Here's an old bosun's whistle; stuff it in yer pocket, and don't blow it till the right moment. When you do, blow hard, and me, Barney, and Neb Dumlow's with you."

"But—"

"Butter be hanged, doctor. You've got three pistols, and the door's open. You let out the mate, Mr Denning, and Mr Fishmonger; wait till you think the moment's right, and then down on old Frenchy; whistle hard, and then we'll all make a rush for the others, and drive 'em chock into the forksle, or overboard if they don't mind. Off!"

"One moment, Hampton;" but there was a sharp rustling of oilskins, and the man had hurried through the saloon and out on deck, where Jarette's voice could be heard shouting above the din of the wind and sea.

In the cabin then for a few moments there was silence, and I stood in that black darkness with my heart beating painfully, waiting for Mr Frewen to speak, and face to face with the thought that in a few minutes I might be engaged in a desperate struggle with a man and his followers, and that they would stop at nothing when attacked.

"Why don't you speak—why don't you speak?" I kept saying to myself, with a feeling of anger against the man who was absolutely torturing me by his silence.

But it could not have been a minute, though in my excitement it seemed to be so long, and he had to make his plans. Then he spoke in a quiet, firm way.

"Now, Dale," he said, "it is our duty, and we must fight. Forget that you are a boy, and act like a man. Got your revolver?"

"Yes."

"Charged?"

"Yes."

I'm afraid my voice sounded very husky in my excitement, and my heart went in leaps and bounds. Frightened? Yes, I was: horribly; and if under similar circumstances any boy or man tells you he was not, don't believe him. I wouldn't. I know I was all of a tremble, but I never felt for a moment that I was going to shrink as I listened to Mr Frewen giving Mr Preddle instructions about the revolver.

"No, no," I heard him say, "don't stop to re-charge. If it will not go off, use it as a club." Then he gripped me by the hand.

"Ready?" he whispered.

"Yes."

"Then keep close to me, and come on."

We stepped out into the saloon, shut our door after us, and stood listening, wondering whether there was a sentry, but all was still, and concluding that all hands were on deck, Mr Frewen unfastened Mr Preddle's door in the black darkness. He came out, and his door was also closed again.

"Follow!"

We went after Mr Frewen, and he stopped at a cabin-door on the opposite side, opened it, and I heard him say—

"Brymer."

"Yes, who is it? Doctor?"

"Yes, dress sharply. Trousers only."

"I am dressed. What's up? Striking?"

"A blow for liberty."

"Hah! A good time while they're fumbling with the old Castle. How many are you?"

"Three, and three stout men on deck."

"Who are they?"

"Hampton, Blane, Dumlow."

"All traitors and scoundrels."

"All true men waiting for my signal."

"Good. And the captain?"

"Too badly wounded to stir."

"Mr Denning?"

"Too weak."

"Yes. Lead then; I'll do all you say."

"Are you stronger?"

"Strong enough for that; but give me something to hit with. All right, I have my pocket-knife."

"Ready then? Come on, and let's see what had better be done."

"Get Jarette down at any cost," said the mate. "The rest will come easy."

All this was in a whisper, and then we followed Mr Frewen to the shattered entrance of the saloon, and stood there looking forward, but seeing very little, though a white peculiar gleam came off the sea, and a couple of lanterns swung forward, by the side of one of which we made out the gleam of an oilskin upon whose wet surface the dim light played.

"He'll be up by the wheel," Mr Brymer whispered. "We must tackle him there; and once get him down, we can beat back the others. I'll make sure for you."

Just as he spoke all doubt was at an end, for we heard Jarette shout an order to the men at the wheel; and then, before any plan could be made, he trotted forward, swung himself down the steps on to the deck, as we shrank back into the companion-way, and went forward.

"Bah! We've let our chance go," whispered Mr Frewen, and then we stood fast, for Jarette stopped and turned to come back into the saloon.

"Delivered into our hands," I said to myself, as I drew a long breath, for the great struggle was about to begin.



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

The companion-way was so black that we were completely hidden, and I heard Mr Frewen draw his breath with a soft hissing sound, as if he now grasped the fact that a better chance was to be afforded to us of mastering the leader of the mutineers, who came right to the shattered entrance, and appeared to be about to enter, but stopped short listening for a sound, but for a few seconds there was none. Then all at once in a muffled way we heard Mr John Denning say a few words in an angry impatient tone, for the wind had lulled for a few moments. Then there came the low murmur of Miss Denning's voice, and directly after the whistling of the wind again.

Jarette was not two yards from us, and if he had taken another step, I had made up my mind to fling myself upon him and cling with all my might to his legs, while the others seized him by the throat and arms. I say this, for we compared notes afterwards.

It was not to be, for he came no farther; but apparently satisfied that all was right, he turned sharply and went forward, and we could from time to time make out his voice among the others as he gave orders to the men.

"Another opportunity gone," said Mr Frewen. "We ought to have leaped upon him."

"Better luck next time," said the mate. "He cannot stay forward long. He is seaman enough to know that his place is at the wheel."

"Then at all costs we must have him when he returns."

"And what then?" said the mate. "You do not mean to kill him, I suppose?"

"Oh no; of course not."

"Then I should place the door of one of the cabins wide open, and prop it. Then as soon as we have mastered and disarmed him, bundle him inside and keep him a prisoner."

"Yes; excellent," said Mr Frewen. "I'll open mine at once."

He crept cautiously across and opened the door to its full extent, and, as he told me afterwards, he placed a heavy case of instruments against it, so that it should not swing to again from the motion of the ship.

The next minute he was back, and we were watching and waiting as the ship laboured terribly, the sea being now terrific; but, as Mr Brymer whispered, everything possible had been done, and she was under close-reefed storm canvas.

"I couldn't have done better myself there, but the men at the wheel are steering very wildly."

There was silence again, and as I listened for a voice, the lanterns forward swung to and fro, and so much water came aboard that I fully expected to see them extinguished, when all forward would have been in darkness.

"Is he never coming again?" whispered Mr Frewen at last.

"Oh yes, he'll come," said Mr Brymer. "They've got the grog forward there, and perhaps he has gone below."

"Then why not crawl forward and clap on the forecastle-hatch?"

"Because it will be far safer for us to secure their leader; and, besides, by closing up the forksle you might shut in our friends as well."

"Yes, quite right," replied Mr Frewen, and we waited still, with the wind shrieking amongst the cordage, and the night appearing blacker than ever.

Thud! Plash!

A heavy wave had struck the bows, and the spray came hissing and rushing along the deck after deluging the ship forward.

"I'm certain that my poor fish will all be killed by the salt water, Dale," whispered Mr Preddle, but I only made an impatient movement, for I was trying to hear what Mr Brymer whispered to the doctor, who did not hear the remark, and said—

"What?"

"I say that was bad steering, and if I were in command, there would be a row."

Thud! Splash!

This time the water must have curled over in a perfect deluge, for we could hear it hiss and roar amongst the cordage on the leeward side, and stream out of the scuppers.

"That must fetch him up if he is below," whispered Mr Brymer, and sure enough the next moment we heard his voice shouting furiously at the men at the wheel, though we could hardly make out a word he said.

"Look out! Here he comes!"

"To the wheel, not here," said Mr Frewen. "Shall we—"

There was not time to say more, for we caught an indistinct glimpse of the figure in oilskins, as, balancing itself as well as it could, it made for the ladder on the starboard side; but just then the ship gave a tremendous lurch, and our enemy missed the ladder, nearly fell, but saved himself, and consequent upon the impetus with which he was moving, darted right in through the companion-way.

The next moment he was down on the deck, making a half-stifled sound, and held fast while a revolver and knife were taken from a belt beneath his oilskin. Then his hands were bandaged behind his back, his legs treated to bonds, and he was dragged into the cabin, while we stood panting over him.

"Look here," said Mr Frewen then, in a hoarse voice; "we are going to lock you in this cabin, but mind, we're all armed—feel that!—it is the point of a revolver—and I swear to you by all that is holy, if you make a sound I'll shoot you as I would a dog."

He made a curious, half-choking sound, and we drew back out of the cabin and the door was shut and fastened.

"Have you got his knife and pistol, Brymer?"

"Yes. All safe. Now then, forward silently till we are close upon them, and then give your signal—a whistle, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Give it sharply; it will do for your friends as well as for us. Then fire if there is the least resistance, close with them, and let's get them under hatches. But I beg pardon, sir; you are in command."

"Nonsense! You could not have given better advice."

"But they will not show much fight. Without their leader they will be like sheep."

I could not help hoping that they would turn out to be like sheep, and leave it to us to play the sheep-dog with them.

"Now then, one more word," said the mate. "It would have been better to divide, and part go to starboard, the rest to port, but we are so few."

"Yes, let's keep together," said Mr Frewen, "and make our rush. Creep forward half-way, then I'll whistle, and we must do our best. Ready, Mr Preddle?"

"Yes, sir, I'm ready; but I'm afraid you must not expect much from me. I'll hit as hard as I can though."

"That will do. Now, gentlemen, forward!"

The wind shrieked more loudly than ever as Mr Frewen gave the word, and with our pistols ready we crept forward with no little difficulty toward where the lanterns swung, keeping together, and moving slowly so as to keep our feet. Before we were half-way toward the bows we could see a dull light glowing from the forecastle-hatch, and a couple of dark figures standing in front of it, so that their oilskin-covered bodies stood out big and grotesque.

That was our goal, I felt, and I knew that if we made a bold rush those two could easily be driven down, while I hoped that the others would be too much cowed to fight.

Mr Frewen and the mate were first, Mr Preddle and I behind, and I was just thinking that it was nearly time for the whistle to be blown and the rush made, while I thought, too, how easy it would be to make a mistake and injure a friend with our pistols, when the ship gave such a lurch that we all went heavily against the bulwarks, to which we clung to save ourselves from a heavy fall, then bang, splash, rose a wave over the bows, and a voice which came from one of the figures by the light from the hatch yelled forth a torrent of oaths as he asked what the men were doing at the wheel.

I turned cold all down my back without the help of the spray, for it was Jarette's voice we heard, and we had bagged the wrong fox!

For a moment we clung together there in the darkness as the ship hung over to port; then, as she righted herself, Mr Frewen, feeling desperate, and that we could not now go back to our place, clapped the boatswain's whistle to his lips; it sounded shrilly above that which we could hear in the rigging, and we made our rush.

Describe what followed! How? I remember the rush; feeling mad and desperate, and hearing, as we closed with half-a-dozen men, a couple of shots fired quickly one after the other. Then I was in the middle of a savage wrestling match, in which men were striking blows with all their might, and a voice was yelling order after order in French, while we were getting, I felt, the worst of it.

I had seized a man, who whisked me off my legs and whirled me round, but I stuck to him till he flung me heavily on the deck, and then I wound my arms round his legs so firmly that as the ship lurched again he fell and rolled over with me into the scuppers, where he roared at me to let go before he used his knife.

I need not add that he did not say use his knife, for his language was far stronger, and he made a horrible reference to my throat. But I was wound up then; the fighting instinct had been roused, and holding on more tightly, I made use of my teeth as well, but not in his flesh.

Meanwhile I had a misty notion of the fight going against Mr Frewen and my two friends, and just then Jarette yelled in French, and directly after in English—

"Heave them overboard if they don't give in!"—when rush! crack! two men who had been forward sprung at the Frenchman, who went down heavily, but rose on one arm, and as I clung to the man in the scuppers I could see the chief mutineer clearly. For he was between me and the light, and I started as there were two loud pistol reports, a shriek, and a man fell with a thud; but the next instant I saw some one spring at Jarette as he was going to fire, and strike with all his force, with the result that he fell backward down the hatch.

Then another man was beaten below, and again another, and then the hatch was clapped down and held by Mr Preddle, while another man was dragged along struggling hard till Bob Hampton struck him over the head.

"Open the hatch!" he yelled.

Mr Preddle obeyed, and a flash of light came out with a loud report as the man was thrown down and the hatch clapped on again.

"Here, quick, help!" I shouted, for I was about exhausted.

"Where are you, boy?" cried Bob Hampton, and he ran to where the man I clung to was just jerking himself clear. Then he came down upon me with a groan as Bob Hampton struck at him, and, half-insensible, he too was dragged to the hatch and thrown down as another shot was fired.

"I'm all right!" yelled Mr Preddle, securing the hatch again.

"Where's Mr Brymer?"

"Here, help!" came from somewhere forward, and as I struggled up I had a faint view of Mr Frewen and Hampton rushing forward and bringing back a couple more men with pistols held to their heads. I saw that, for the light from the swinging lanterns gleamed upon the barrels.

These two men were thrown down, and one more shot came crashing up, but without hurting any one, and then a familiar voice said—

"Here's another!" and Dumlow staggered up, pushing a sailor before him.

"You'll pay for this night's work when the noo—"

He said no more, for he received a heavy blow in the mouth, and then kicking and struggling with rage, he too was thrown down.

"How many more?" panted Mr Frewen.

"There's three on 'em forward," growled Bob Hampton. "The look-out man and two more."

"Pistols!" cried Mr Frewen, loudly, and then as there was a sharp clicking from mine as well as three others, he shouted—"Now, you men, surrender, or we fire!"

"Not us!" came back hoarsely. "Now, lads, rush 'em; they've got no pistols!"

Two shots hardly heard in the roar of the storm were fired over the heads of the men who were about to rush forward; but if the reports were faint in the din, the flashes were bright and clear, and in place of charging at us they hung back, and we were upon them in an instant. I say we, for somehow or other I did as the others did, and the men gave in directly and were marched to the hatch, below which jarette could be heard raving at his fellow-prisoners.

"Now," cried Mr Brymer, "you know me, my lads; I never say things I don't mean. The moment that hatch is opened, you jump down. If you hesitate I fire."

"But old Frenchy will fire up as soon as it's opened."

"He will not fire at you."

"But he may hit us, sir."

"Open that hatch, Mr Preddle," cried Brymer, and he cocked his pistol, Mr Frewen following suit.

"That's right, sir; fire too, in case I miss."

"But," cried the man, imploringly, "let me stay on deck, and I'll return to my duty."

"We don't want you, dog!" cried Mr Frewen.

"Down with you!" roared Mr Brymer, as the hatch flew up, and there was a flash and report, which the man waited for, and then leaped.

"Down with you!" cried Mr Brymer again, but the other two men hesitated, and were hanging back. The next moment they went down headlong, impelled as they were by Bob Hampton and Dumlow.

"There," cried Bob Hampton, as we all stood there breathless with excitement, and quite forgetful of the storm raging round us, "if anybody had told me, Neb, as Barney would have been such a cur, I'd ha' hit him in the mouth for a liar."

"Yah!" growled Dumlow, "and I've shook hands with him and called him 'mate' scores o' times. Yah!"

"Never mind, gents, we've done it, eh?" cried Bob Hampton.

"God bless you both for true men!" cried Mr Brymer, holding out his hands to them, and for a few minutes there was a general hand-shaking all round.

"But we're forgetting the men at the wheel," said Mr Frewen. "How many are there? Two?"

"Oh, they're a couple o' soft Tommy sort of chaps," said Bob Hampton. "I can settle them two with one hand. That arn't the worst on it, sir; we've got to tackle Barney Blane. No, I won't do it for fear I should finish him, and you'd best steer out o' that job, Neb."

"If I don't, I shall sarve him like a wornut, mate."

"Dessay you would, my lad. We'll sponge over the two lads at the wheel while the gents does Barney. Hit him, gents, or shoot him somewhere low down, for he desarves it; all I wonder now is as he did not split all about it to old Frenchy."

"We could all deal with him," said Mr Frewen. "You two men come with us, and you, Dale, keep guard here with Mr Preddle. A shout will bring us back directly."

"Right, sir," I said, in a disappointed tone, and then I brightened up, for he told Dumlow to stop instead.

"Don't be long," said Mr Preddle. "I want to see to my fish."

"On'y to think, gents," growled Bob Hampton, holding a lantern while Mr Brymer and the doctor thrust fresh cartridges into their pistols, "the skipper—I mean Frenchy—sends Barney aft to speak to the men at the wheel, for they were steering anyhow, and he knowed as this game was going to be played, and—Eh? Well, what are you laughing at, Mr Dale? What have I said wrong?"

For I had burst into a roar of laughter, in which Mr Frewen joined.



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

"That's one enemy the less to deal with," cried the mate, as we went aft, followed by the sailor. "Only a couple of them to tackle."

"I makes three of 'em, sir," said Hampton, "so don't you make no mistake. Barney will be as nasty as nasty at seeing hisself the wrong side, and find as he can fight when he likes."

"Our friend Barney is already accounted for, Hampton," cried Mr Frewen.

"What?—you have tackled him?" said Bob Hampton excitedly, slapping his knee.

"Yes, that we have, Bob," I cried, "and he is quite safe."

"Then I scuses you all for laughing, gentlemen; though it did seem rather a rum thing to me for you to be a-busting out in a loud grin at a serus time like this. I see now. You met him then?"

"Yes, we met him," replied Mr Frewen, leading the way up the ladder to the poop-deck, "but he must wait."

He cocked his pistol as he reached the top, and we did the same.

"Shall I speak 'em first, gentlemen?" said Bob Hampton, in a low voice.

"Yes, tell them to surrender," said the mate. "We don't want any more fighting; and look here, Hampton, we want their help to navigate the ship."

"I know, sir," growled the old sailor, and stepping to the front he walked straight to where the two men still kept to their posts at the wheel, knowing as they did that to leave it meant throwing the ship into the trough of the sea to be deluged by every wave.

"Game's up, my lads!" shouted Hampton. "Orficers has got the upper hand on us with loaded pistols, and you've got to knuckle down same as we have, and return to your dooty."

"All right, messmate," said one of the men, shouting back so as to make his voice heard, "I don't mind; on'y what about Frenchy?"

"Ay, what about Frenchy?" cried the other. "We don't want him to come cussin' us and saying it's all t'other way on."

"Frenchy's down in the fork'sle, with the hatch over him, and two men with loaded pistols keeping guard, lads."

"But s'pose he gets out again?"

"They arn't going to let him," said Bob Hampton, "so what's it to be? I've knuckled down, and so's Neb Dumlow and Barney Blane. Are you going to return to dooty or make a fight on it? Just say sharp, 'cause we're in a hurry."

"Oh, we don't want to fight," said the first speaker, "and we didn't want to mutiny, on'y Frenchy said we was to, and we did."

"Pretty pair o' sheep you was, too, my lads, to run through a gap that way. And now look here, you, jest recklect all this; you've both got your necks in nooses, and Mr Brymer here's got hold o' the other ends of the ropes, so as he can pull 'em any time he likes, and he will too if you don't stick pretty close to your dooty. That's right, arn't it, sir?"

"Yes, that's right, Hampton," cried Mr Brymer. "You understand, then, if you do your duty now and help to navigate the ship into port, your conduct may—I say may, mind—be looked over."

"Oh, my mate and I'll stick to it, sir," said the spokesman of the two men. "Frenchy was all talk about our being orficers and gentlemen if we rose again Captain Berriman, but as soon as we did rose he pumps hisself up, and it's all Captain Jarette, and every one else is nobody at all 'cept for him to cuss at."

"That was so," growled Hampton.

"Yes," said the other sailor; "but I wants to know this: if we two's got our necks in the nooses, why arn't Bob Hampton and Neb Dumlow?"

"'Cause we never shoved 'em in, my lad," said Bob Hampton, with a chuckle. "It was all a paddy till we could get the genle-men out to make a fight on it. That's so, arn't it, gents?"

"Yes, my lads, Hampton, Dumlow, and Blane have been fighting for us all through."

"Oh, that's it, is it?" said the man. "Very well. Anything for a quiet life, I says; on'y how much longer are we to be at the wheel?"

"I'll have you relieved soon, my men, so do your best, and keep easing her off another point or two now and then."

"Ay; don't keep running her nose into all the big waves, mateys," cried Hampton; and then to Mr Frewen—"You won't have to shoot 'em this time, sir. They arn't a bad sort. It was all that Frenchy."

"Come to the saloon now," said Mr Frewen, and we all hurried down into the black place, and to the door of the cabin, through which we could hear a growling sound.

By this time Bob Hampton had been made fully aware of the strange state of affairs, and was indulging in several hearty chuckles at his messmate's expense. And now as I began to unfasten the door, he said quickly—

"I'd be a bit on my guard, gentlemen, for Barney 'll be a bit nasty at all this here, and p'r'aps show fight, and when he do he hits hard. Did you tie him werry fast?"

"As fast as we could," said Mr Brymer, and I threw open the door.

"Below there, matey!" cried Bob Hampton. "How are you?"

There was a curious growling noise and a loud rap on the cabin-floor.

"Easy, my lad, and I'll cast you off. Wait till I get hold of the knots. Frenchy's under hatches, and things is all right again."

"Goroo, goroo!" gurgled poor Blane, and knowing exactly what was the matter, I got hold of the piece of linen that had been used as a gag, and dragging at one end, soon freed the poor fellow's mouth from its great stopper.

"Ah!" he roared out, after taking a long free breath. "That was your game, Bob, but on'y just wait till I gets my lists."

"No, no, my lad," cried Mr Brymer; "it was all our doing, and we made a mistake in the darkness. We were lying in wait for Jarette, and took you for him."

"No, you didn't," cried Barney, fiercely, "or you'd have pitched me overboard—you on'y wait till I get my hands loose."

"Don't be a fool, messmate!" growled Bob Hampton; "you hears what the gentleman says."

"Yes, but it was a lark, and you sent me here to be ketched."

"Now, hark at him, gents; did you ever hear such a wooden image of a man as that? Why, it were Frenchy sent you to bully the lads at the wheel, warn't it?"

"Well, I won't tell a lie," panted the man, "it were, but I arn't been able hardly to breathe."

"It was all a mistake, my lad," said Mr Frewen; "but we've re-taken the ship."

"All right, sir," cried Barney; "but it isn't all right. It arn't fair. I was to help re-take the Burgh Castle, and I was going to, on'y you all set upon me as you did, and I'm knocked about orfle."

"Well, messmate, it is disappynting, I'll allow," growled Bob Hampton; "but there arn't much the matter with you, Barney, and out forrard there was games, I can tell you. Old Frenchy was chucking bullets about anyhow, and 'stead o' being here in this here cabin with me untying these here knots, you might ha' been yonder with a hole or two through your carcadge."

"Ay, that's right enough, matey," growled Blane; "but I wanted to help, and have it out with Frenchy. He kicked me below when the mootny fust began, and I can't forget it. I'm English, I am, and I arn't going to sit down and be kicked by a Frenchman, 'tarn't likely."

"No, matey, it arn't. But lookye here. He's forrard and down in the forksle, and as soon as you get the feeling back in your legs—"

"Ay, you may say that, mate. They're like a mask o' cold lead."

"Then I'll rub them for you, and then you can go and strike him back."

"What! now he's down. Nice sort of cold meat work that'd be; I wanted to go at him when he was up."

"There, Blane," said Mr Frewen, "you must forgive us and shake hands. It was all a mistake, and part of the re-taking of the ship."

"Oh, if you put it that way, sir, I'm ready," growled the man; "but I don't seem to have got no hands. It was orfle lying here, and one corner o' that rug as you stuffed into my mouth got a bit o' the way down my throat, and kep' on tickling me till I wanted to cough, and couldn't. Say, Bob Hampton, mate, air you going to untie them knots and cast off these here lashings, or arn't you?"

"Why, they are off your arms, man."

"When what's gone o' my arms? Have they been took off?"

"Nay, they're all right."

"Well, my legs arn't. Nice way to sarve a fellow."

"Shake hands, Barney," I said. "I'm so sorry."

"Can't, sir. You must do it yourself. I don't b'lieve yet as I've got no hands, no arms, nor anything else, but a head."

"There you are, matey," cried Bob Hampton. "Did you tie them ropes, Mr Brymer, sir? They was tight 'uns."

"No; it was Mr Dale here."

"Oh, him!" growled Bob Hampton. "Well, they was done in a second-hand sort o' way."

"Why, they were fastened the way you taught me, Bob!" I cried.

"Well, sir, that's my modesty," said Bob, with a chuckle. "I can't say they were done now. Now, matey, stand up, we've got lots to do."

"Can't," said Barney.

"Then lie down till we've got a lantern, and seen to the captain and Mr Denning."

"Yes, get a lantern," said Mr Brymer; "stop, I'll come with you and stay with Mr Preddle and Dumlow; we mustn't have the scoundrels break loose. Ha! What's that?"

The mate asked the question, but we all knew what it was, and started forward at once, for it was the report of a pistol, plainly heard in a lulling of the wind.



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

It was alarming, but on reaching the hatch over the forecastle there was not much wrong. A desperate attempt had been made to break out, and in the midst of the effort Mr Preddle had fired his pistol, sending the ball splintering through the woodwork, and this had the effect of damping the ardour of the men below for the time. But we did not leave the hatch till it had been made more secure, and then leaving Mr Brymer to strengthen the guard as arranged, we hurried back to relieve the anxiety of Mr Denning and his sister, and of Captain Berriman, who must all of them be in agony.

I felt that we ought to have gone to them sooner, but I did not see how we could have acted differently; and eager now to bear the news of the change in the state of affairs, I trotted back with the lantern as fast as I could over the streaming deck, and found Barney sitting down and rubbing his legs.

"Circ'lation's a-coming back, youngster," he said. "I say, did you kill that young Walters?"

"Walters!" I cried. "I'd forgotten all about him. I didn't see or hear anything of him."

"Dessay not, sir. He'd get out of the way while the row was on. Maybe he'd got into a bunk to have a snooze and didn't hear it. But, I say, what a game!"

"What, our re-taking the ship, Barney?"

"No; you thinking I was Frenchy. Well, it's lucky you didn't heave me overboard."

"Coming round, mate?" said Bob Hampton.

"Ay, my lad, I've got one arm and a bit o' one leg back, and toothers is coming back slowly like, but it's rum work feeling nothing but head and body, and your arms and legs all gone dead at first, and then you begins to know as they arn't been cut off and chucked away, and they're still there. They was just like sleeves and stockings stuffed with sorduss, and people making cushions of 'em and sticking the pins in as hard as ever they can."

"I'm so sorry, Barney," I said.

"Ay, lad, I s'pose you are, and seeing as you thinked it was old Frenchy, I don't wonder as you tied them there knots as hard as ever you could. But what I do wonder at is, that the line didn't cut my legs right off. Shows as my muscles must be made of real good stuff, and when I've done rubbing 'em back into shape, I s'pose they'll come all right once more; but I should have liked to be in the fun."

"Get your pincushions all right, messmate," said Bob Hampton, slapping Barney on the back, "and don't growl; the game's on'y just begun, and you shall have first innings next time."

"Think there'll be any more fighting, matey?" said Barney eagerly.

"Think there'll be any more fighting? Just hark at him, gentlemen. Why, you grumbling old swab, do you think as, once having hold of the Burgh Castle and calling hisself skipper, old Frenchy's the sort o' man to let a few planks and a hatchway keep him from making another try? You wait a bit, old man, if you're so precious anxious to get yourself made sore. Frenchy won't forget us for gammoning him, and pretending to be on his side."

"I ain't hankshus to be made sore, Bob, old matey," growled Barney; "it's a kind o' nat'ral feeling in me to make him sore, and I'm going to do it if I gets half a chance."

"All right then, Mr Brymer 'll see as you has one, I dessay."

The next minute we were at the cabin in which the captain was lying, but he rose up on one arm as the door was thrown open and the light of the lantern flashed in.

Mr Frewen went to him directly.

"How are you?" he cried. "I could not come to you before."

"Tell me," cried Captain Berriman excitedly, "what has been going on?"

"Nothing much," said Mr Frewen, smiling.

"But I heard firing and a struggle in the saloon," cried the captain, clinging to Mr Frewen's arm.

"Well, yes, we have been re-taking the ship."

"What?"

"Humph! Poor fellow, he could not bear it," said Mr Frewen, as Captain Berriman sank back half-fainting, but he re-opened his eyes and clung to the doctor again.

"Too good—to be true," he muttered. "Thank God—thank God!"

There was perfect silence for a few moments, as our poor wounded captain lay back with his eyes closed. Then with his face losing its feeble, despairing look, he said anxiously—

"I don't see Brymer; is he hurt?"

"No; quite safe."

"Mr Preddle?"

"We are all pretty sound, and the mutineers are shut down in the forecastle, sir."

"Oh, if I only had strength!" said the captain. "Doctor, you have half cured me with this news; can't you give anything to set me up for an hour or two?"

"Nothing," said Mr Frewen, sadly. "I can only tell you that you must be patient. You must lie here and give your orders. We will execute them as far as we can."

"And we are in a bad storm. There must be danger on that side too, but I can do nothing."

"Mr Brymer will do his best, and there are three of the best seamen to help."

"What?" he cried excitedly.

"Hampton, and two more?"

"No, no, traitors, don't trust them—the scoundrels."

"No, we arn't, cap'n," growled Bob Hampton. "We was obliged to sham Abram a bit. Now I do call that 'ere hard, arter me and Dumlow and Barney helped get the ship back again."

"You did?" cried the captain.

"Course we did."

"Yes, they have been true as steel," said Mr Frewen. "You need not fear these men."

"And that boy, Walters?"

"Oh, him, sir! He's down below somewheres, and he'd better stay too," growled Bob Hampton, "for if he shows his nose, young Mr Dale here's going to tackle him pretty warmly."

"But have you got the men prisoners?" said the captain, anxiously.

"Yes, quite safe."

"Then the ship must be seen to. She's labouring heavily. Tell Brymer—"

"I shall tell Mr Brymer nothing," said Mr Frewen firmly. "You shall give him your orders instead. You can be at peace now, sir, so lie still patiently, and believe that everything possible will be done to preserve order and save the ship."

"Yes; thank you," said the captain, whose lip was quivering. "I know I must be patient. There, I'll try and do what I have not done these many hours,—go to sleep. But bring me some news sometimes, Dale, my lad, I shall be so anxious to know."

I promised him, and then we hurried out, for from time to time there was an anxious whispering going on in the next cabin, which appealed strongly to Mr Frewen and to me.

He pointed to the door as soon as we were outside, and his voice sounded very husky as he said—

"Unfasten it, and go in and tell them that all is safe once more."

"Won't you go?" I asked, as I offered him the lantern.

"No," he replied, after making an effort to master his anxiety to take the lead. "You and Mr Denning were on friendly terms. He would rather receive the good news from you. In with you quick, and tell him that if he feels strong enough, I—that is, Mr Brymer would be glad if he would come and help to keep watch over the prisoners."

"With a rewolver," growled Bob Hampton.

"Yes, say with a pistol," said Mr Frewen. "He would be as effective there as a strong man."

"Better," growled Bob, "for he understands fire-arm tools, and knows how to shoot."

I gave a sharp knock at the door, and then unfastened it and entered, lantern in hand, to see Mr Denning looking ghastly as the light fell upon his face, where he stood before his sister with a tiny revolver in his hand, while the other was behind him holding the poor girl whom he was ready, poor weak creature that he was, to defend as long as he had life.

They had been so long in darkness that the light of the lantern, feeble as it was, dazzled them, and they could not see who it was.

Before I had time to speak Mr Denning cried fiercely—

"Keep back, scoundrel, or I'll fire!"

"No, no! Mr Denning," I cried; "it's all right now, and we've mastered the mutineers."

"Ah!"

I started forward at that cry—a long, low, pitiful cry—uttered by Miss Denning; and I heard Mr Frewen's step behind me as I dropped the lantern and tried to catch the poor girl. For the good news, after the long and terrible strain, was more than she could bear. I knew afterwards that she had acted like a heroine all through the fearful excitement, and had worked hard to comfort and sustain her brother; while now that the tension was removed, she reeled and would have fallen in spite of my effort. But as the lantern fell, and we were in darkness, I felt some one brush by me, and I knew by the sound that she had not struck the cabin-floor.

"Quick, a light, Bob!—matches!" I cried.

"Right you are, sir," he said; and as he came into the cabin, I heard him fumbling about and trying to strike a match, but for several minutes there was nothing but a phosphorescent streak made on the boards of the partition.

"Yah! everything's so plaguy wet," growled the sailor.

"Here, let me come, matey," I heard Dumlow say. "Mine's brass box." And the next minute there was a sharp crick, crick, crack, a burst of flame, and I saw Mr Frewen holding poor Miss Denning in his arms, ready to lay her carefully and reverently down as the lantern was re-lit.

"Yes, Mr Denning," he said quietly, "I think there is no more cause for anxiety now, except from the storm. Will you see to your sister, and bathe her face? It is only a fainting fit from the sudden shock."

"Yes, thank you," said Mr Denning, coldly and ungraciously, I thought. "Be good enough to take away your men."

"Of course. Come, my lads," said Mr Frewen; and he stepped out of the cabin, followed by Bob Hampton and Dumlow.

"It's all right, Mr Denning," I said. "Nothing to mind now."

But somehow I did not speak very warmly, for I was hurt by his cold reception of a man who had been risking his life to save him and his sister.

My feelings changed though the next moment, for to my astonishment Mr Denning laid hands on my shoulders, and he quite broke down and sobbed, while his words were choking and strange.

"Thank God!—thank God!" he said. "Oh, Dale, if you only knew what we have suffered, my poor sister and I!"

"Yes, yes, it has been horrible," I said, trying to comfort him, for his illness had made him weak as a girl; "but that's nothing to mind now. We've thrashed the scoundrels and locked them up, and Mr Frewen has behaved like a hero."

"Yes; and—and I'm afraid I spoke very sharply to him, but I could not help it, Dale."

"Well, you weren't very warm to him," I said; "and he does deserve something."

"Yes, yes," he cried hastily; "and I'll try and thank him another time. Hush! she's coming to."

"Yes, and I mustn't stay," I cried quickly; for I was miserably uncomfortable, and wanted to get away before Miss Denning quite came to, and burst out sobbing and crying, as I was sure she would.

"Can't you stop—a few minutes?" he said.

"No; I must go on deck. There's everything to do, and we're short-handed. I'll leave you the light."

"Thank you, yes," he cried, wringing my hand.

"Tell Miss Denning I'm so glad," I said hastily; and then I hurried out. But I was no sooner outside than I remembered my message, and ran back, to find, as I expected, that Miss Denning was sobbing on her brother's shoulder; when to my horror she left him, and with a cry flung her arms about my neck and kissed me.

"Oh, Alison Dale," she cried warmly, "bless you, and thank you! You have always been like a dear good brother to us both, ever since we have been on board."

"He has—he has," cried Mr Denning warmly, and he looked as pleased as could be at his sister's behaviour; while as for me, I would have given anything to be outside the cabin. For to a lad of my age, being thanked for what I had done was painful in the extreme; and in a hurried way I hastened to tell them my message, and briefly about how we had found friends in the mutineers' ranks, and then of our attack and success.

But my stay was brief. We had so far mastered one enemy, but were suffering from the attack of another, which we had ignored for a time; while now it was impressing itself upon us all, as I soon found, in a very serious way.

On reaching the deck, along which I had to guide myself by holding on by the side, and catching at rope and belaying-pin, I found that the sea had risen higher, and the wind was rushing through the rigging with almost hurricane force. But I made my way to the forecastle-hatch, where Mr Preddle was still on guard, as I could see by the light of the swaying lantern, and Mr Brymer was with him.

"Ah, Dale," he cried, "I'm glad you've come. I want you to stay on guard with Mr Preddle. You have a pistol?"

"Yes," I said, pointing to my belt.

"That's right. I want to go to the wheel. Hampton is there now. I should like to do more, but it is terrible work now, short-handed as we are; and we must run on in this blind fashion, for I have no idea where we are."

Just at that moment there was a tremendous crack overhead, followed by a snapping as of pistol-shots; for one of the sails had got loose, and was now being torn into ribbons, which snapped and cracked like so many cart-whips on a gigantic scale.

"Is that dangerous?" I shouted, for the wind carried away my voice.

"No; a blessing, my lad. It will save her. I only want steering power. Look here, don't fire unless you are obliged. If you do, mind, I take it as a signal that you want help, both of you; and then of course we shall come to your help. But what about Mr Denning?"

As he spoke, the invalid came struggling along by the bulwarks, and I ran to help him to where he could stand in shelter.

"Glad to see you, Mr Denning. Ah, that's right. Rather a small pistol, but I dare say it can do its duty. You will help them?"

"As far as my strength will let me," he said.

"That's right. Now, Mr Preddle, I must go. Sorry about your fish, but we can do nothing till the weather mends."

"No, I'm afraid not," Mr Preddle yelled.

"I don't hear that crying out now."

"No; I haven't heard it since Mr Dale came," panted Mr Preddle, with the wind driving his words back so that he could hardly get his breath.

"That must wait too. The safety of the ship is all we can look to now."

He made a dash for the weather-bulwark, and disappeared at once into the darkness and mist of spray which flew before the gale, hissing by us, and drenching us to the skin.

"You ought to have brought a waterproof, Mr Denning," I said.

"Who could think of waterproofs at a time like this?" he said, with his lips to my ear. Then with a start, as he turned his head and looked forward—"What's that?"

I had heard a cry as he spoke.

"I don't know," I said. "Why, it must be some one wounded crying for help."

"It is what Mr Brymer and I heard several times before," said Mr Preddle excitedly. "He thought it must be one of the mutineers who had escaped aloft at first, afraid to stir to come down."

"I don't think it could be that," I said. "It didn't sound like being up aloft."

"So he said. Then he thought—"

"There it is again," cried Mr Denning and I heard, above the shrieking of the wind and the hissing spray, a despairing kind of wail, as if some one called for help.

"Why, it's forward somewhere," I said, with a curious shudder running through me which was not caused by the wind and spray.

"Yes, that's what Mr Brymer said; but he went and searched all about forward."

"Then it must be one of the men below—one who is wounded," I said. "Do you think we could send Mr Frewen down to his help?"

"Not without letting your prisoners loose," said Mr Denning, decisively. "I'm sorry for the man, but he must suffer for the present."

"It's very horrible," I said; "for he may be very bad—dying perhaps."

"Yes," said Mr Denning coldly; "but it was not our work, I suppose."

"There it is again," said Mr Preddle. "When the mate was here, he felt sure that some one had crept overboard, and down to what he called the stays under the bowsprit."

"When the attack was made?" I cried. "Yes, that must be it. There it goes again. That was certainly 'Help!'"

"Yes."

"He must be afraid of falling. Why, the vessel keeps on driving into these great waves, and at every dip down he must be nearly drowned."

"What are you going to do, Dale?" cried Mr Denning.

"Find out where he is, and then lower a rope to him; and when he has fastened it round him, we must haul him on board, even if he is another enemy. There'll be no need to be afraid of him."

I was trying to make out where I could most handily find a rope, when, plainly heard above the heavy beating of the waves against our bows, as the ship rose and fell in her wild race onward through the dense blackness ahead, there was the murmur of a voice and a loud movement below the hatch we were guarding.

Then distinctly heard came the words—

"Give me room then," and this was followed by a crashing sound, and a jar against my hand as I held on to the side of the hatchway.

"They've got a chopper, and are going to cut their way out!" I said excitedly. And almost as I spoke there was another dull blow, and this was followed by a cheer.

"What are you going to do?" I cried, as Mr Preddle held on with one hand, and presented his revolver at the door of the hatchway.

A flash and a dull report served for my answer then; and as the bullet crashed through the woodwork, there was a yell, a dull sound as of a fall, and then in the momentary silence Mr Preddle said—

"Those were my orders; I was obliged."

A ragged volley was fired then from below, and we heard the bullets striking the wood, and saw two or three splitting the thick wood at the top of the hatchway. But we stood back too much for either of them to touch us, as we listened, trying to distinguish the words said, as we pictured, no doubt pretty accurately, what was going on in the forecastle; for a dull groaning told only too plainly that Mr Preddle's shot had taken effect.

What I pictured was the men lifting their bleeding companion forward to one of the bunks, while others were talking and raging furiously about the shot.

I shuddered, and yet I felt excited, and that it was a necessity. And just then I made out Jarette's voice shouting at the men, and giving some order which only evoked a deep growl.

"I don't like having to fire like that," said Mr Preddle just then; "and I feel now as if I ought to fetch the doctor.—Ah, Frewen," he cried, "I've just shot one of the men."

For there were Mr Frewen, the mate, and Barney Blane, all panting and eager to help us.

I told him what had happened, and Mr Brymer said quietly—

"On their own heads be it. This may act as a warning to them. But there must be no hesitation; our lives and that of Miss Denning depend upon swift action. At the first stroke of an axe, fire again."

"I will," said Mr Preddle firmly; and by the light of the lantern I saw that the chambers of his revolver were exposed, and that he was thrusting in a fresh cartridge.

"Ought we to send down Mr Frewen?" said Mr Denning just then.

"Don't ask absurd questions, sir," replied Mr Brymer angrily. "Come, Frewen. Now, my lad."

He turned away, and before following, Barney Blane got beside me, to say in my ear—

"Disappynted again, sir. I did think I was to have a go at Frenchy now."

He hurried off; and the shrieking of the wind ceased for a few moments, during which we strained our ears to try and make out what went on below, when very faintly, but the word distinctly heard, came the cry—

"Help!"

"There is some one forward there by the bowsprit!" I cried excitedly; and leaving my companions, I crept to the bows, and, holding on tightly, climbed up and looked over, seeing nothing but the foaming water churned up by the ship as she plunged on and on, looking as if she were moment by moment going to split upon what might have been one huge black rock right ahead.

I changed my position, and got to the other side of the bowsprit to hold on and look over there, but still I could see nothing, and though I shouted again and again there was no reply.

"Nobody could possibly be hanging on there," I thought, as I tried to pierce the mist of spray; and I felt that if low down on the stays, he would be dipped at every plunge, and drowned in a few minutes, and if higher, to a certainty, unless lashed to the ropes, be washed off.

I stayed some minutes, hailing again and again, with my voice carried forward by the wind, and then made my way back to my two companions, whose faces were turned inquiringly toward me as I shook my head.

"There can't be any one there," I said. "It's impossible."

"So Mr Brymer thought," said Mr Preddle. "He said he would be either washed off or drowned, and that it must be one of the men below."

"There it is again," said Mr Denning; "and it is below."

"Yes; there!" I cried, for there was a heavy banging at a bulk-head, and some one shouted savagely to whoever cried for help to be quiet, and then a shot was fired, but not at us.

"The wretches!" I said.

"The wretch!" said Mr Denning. "That was Jarette's voice, I'm sure; and he must have fired."

"At some prisoner they have there below," I said.

"Or at the wounded man," cried Mr Preddle.

"It must be another wounded man then, for you heard the sound before you fired that shot."

"Yes; and it makes me feel better satisfied, for the mutineers are such brutes—such savage brutes."

"There!" I cried; "do you hear?" for once more the cry for help came so piteous, faint, and despairing that it seemed to go through me from head to heel in one long, continuous shudder.

"If it hadn't been for what we heard just now," said Mr Preddle just then, "I should have been ready to think it was something uncanny— something ghostly; but," he added hastily, as Mr Denning turned a mocking face to him, "I don't think so now."

"It's very horrid," I said; "and the worst of it is that one can't do anything. I wish we could send Mr Frewen to help the poor fellow, whoever it is."

"Yes, it is horrible," said Mr Denning; "but they made us suffer so that I feel hardened against them. It must be a wounded man."

"Why," I cried, as a flash of mental light just then illumined my thick brain, "I know!"

I was so excited by my discovery, which was one of those simple finds that the wonder was it had not been thought of at once, I could hardly contain myself, and I made for a swinging lantern and took it down.

"What is it? What have you found out?" cried Mr Denning at the top of his voice, though it only sounded feeble then in the din of the storm.

"It's some one in the cable-tier," I cried.

"Cable-tier? Where's that?"

"Just forward. Front of the forksle," I shouted. "We must get the hatch off."

"No, no; not till Mr Brymer comes," said Mr Denning.

The words sounded so wise that I hesitated with the lantern in my hand, and for a moment or two I thought of running off to report my discovery; but I recalled the fact that I was on a perilous duty, and that I had no right to leave my post without orders; so I re-hung the lantern, and then, after listening and convincing myself that there was no threatening sound coming from below, I shouted to my companions what I was going to do, and then staggered forward to the carefully battened down hatch, beneath which the great rusty chain cable was lying in a heap.

I listened, and my heart sank with disappointment, for the wind was shrieking as fiercely as ever, and I could not hear a sound.

"Am I mistaken after all?" I thought, and listened still.

Just then, with a heavy thud, as the ship plunged downward, a wave struck the port-bow, rose in a perfect cataract, and curling over, deluged me and rushed along the deck.

I should have been swept away, but the combings of the hatch sheltered me a little, and as the hissing splash of the water ceased, I fancied I heard a faint clink of one of the links of the great chain below, while the moment after came more plainly than I had heard it before a smothered, piteous cry—

"Help!"

And again directly after, as if he who uttered the cry were in agony—

"Help!"

I took out my pistol and thumped with the butt on the hatch, when there was silence again.

"Below there!" I shouted with my lips close to the boards.

"Help! pray help!" came in answer.

"All right," I cried; "I'll see."

I crept back on hands and knees to my companions, who were waiting for me impatiently.

"It's all right," I said; "there's some one in the cable-tier a prisoner, and as it must be some one of our lads he is of course afraid. Oughtn't I to run to Mr Brymer?"

The need ceased the next moment, for before we could decide whether the signal ought to be given by firing a pistol, Neb Dumlow appeared in the feeble glow shed by the lantern, coming out of the black darkness in a peculiarly weird fashion.

"Ahoy!" he growled. "Mate says, is all right?"

"No," I said eagerly, for boy as I was, I seemed to be the captain of that watch, the two gentlemen giving place to me, even if they did oppose some of my ideas. "Go and tell Mr Brymer to come here."

"Ay, ay!" growled the great ugly fellow—uglier now in the darkness than he had ever looked before—and he turned and trotted aft, to return in a few minutes bearing a lantern, and in company with the mate and Mr Frewen.

I told them what I had discovered, and Mr Brymer gave an angry stamp.

"Of course!" he cried. "I might have known. Why, it must be one of our lads, and a friend. Quick, Dumlow, and have off that hatch."

In another moment or two the sailor was on his knees dragging off the piece of tarpaulin which had been fastened down over the top, probably when the storm began, and directly after the hatch was lifted off, and the lantern held down to throw its light upon a ghastly face, which was raised to us as a couple of hands grasped the combings around the opening. I was so astounded that I could not speak, only listen, as Dumlow shouted—

"I say, what cheer you, my lad?"

And Mr Brymer—

"Walters! Why, my lad, what are you doing there?"

"Help!" groaned my old messmate with a piteous look up at us; "half-smothered—water—help!"

"Well, mutineer or middy," said Mr Brymer, "there's nothing to fear from you. Take one arm, Dumlow," and seizing the other himself, they hoisted Walters quickly out of the little compartment and set him on his feet; but his legs gave way, and he dropped on the deck and lay upon his back.

At that moment sounds came up from the hatch, which suggested the possibility of the mutineers breaking through the heavy bulk-head and making their way on deck that way, so before aught else was done, the hatch was securely fastened down again.

While that was in progress, but feeling wroth all the time, I bent down over the poor, miserable-looking wretch, whose eyes were following every movement I made, and recalling the shot I had heard fired, I at once came to the conclusion that he was hurt.

"Here," I said roughly, "where are you wounded, so that I can tell Mr Frewen?"

"I'm—I'm—"

"Well, where?" I said, still very roughly, for the sight of the treacherous young wretch made a hot feeling of rage against him rise in my throat.

"Not—not wounded," he said feebly.

"Then what's the matter with you?" I cried contemptuously; "sea-sick?"

"No—no, that—that wretch, Jarette."

"What?" cried Mr Brymer, with a mocking laugh. "What? 'Wretch Jarette!' Do you mean your captain, my worthy young lieutenant?"

Walters' eyes gave a roll and then closed as he lay there; but they opened again directly, for Mr Brymer gave him an angry thrust—a thrust, not a kick—with his foot.

"Here, get up, cur! You're our prisoner now. What do you say?"

Walters' lips were moving as Dumlow held the light over him and bent down.

"Says as you're to stow him in prison, sir, and not let the skipper see him."

"Bah! Has it come to this? Speak to him, Dale. What does he say now?"

"Water; he is asking for water," I said, as I saw how piteously weak the lad was.

"Suffering from exhaustion and want of air."

"Then he must have a rest," cried Mr Brymer. "Now, sir, can you get up and walk?"

"No," said Mr Frewen, decisively.

"Lift him up, Dumlow," said Mr Brymer, "and bring him aft to one of the cabins. Will you see to him, Mr Frewen?"

The doctor nodded, and I felt as if I wanted to go; but my duty was there, and I had to stay.



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

That storm showed no signs though of abating, and we watched on through the night, constantly on the strain, attacked as we were by alarms from below, and the furious assault of the winds and waves. Several times over during the night, when I was suffering from the cold, and faint with hunger and exhaustion, a horrible chilly feeling of despair came creeping over me. I began thinking of home and those there who would be heart-broken if I was lost; but always at these worst times something seemed to happen that took me out of myself, giving me work so particular to do that all my energies were directed to that duty, and in consequence I forgot my own troubles.

Twice over, when Mr Brymer came with one or other of the men, Mr Denning expressed a wish to be relieved, and I had to take his arm and help him along under the shelter of the bulwarks to the saloon and the cabin where his sister was waiting anxiously for news, and as we struggled aft, he talked to me as freely as if I had been his brother.

"Is there any hope for us, Dale?" he said on one occasion as we rested for a few moments underneath the bulwarks.

"Oh yes," I replied. "Why not?"

"I don't know, I'm not a sailor, but I should not have thought the ship could have kept on long like this without sinking."

I laughed.

"Why, she's a splendid boat," I said, "and quite strong, and so long as we've got plenty of sea-room, we shan't hurt."

"You're talking like this to comfort me," he said.

"No; I'm telling you the truth as far as I understand it. Of course I've never been out in a storm on the ocean before, but I've been in some big ones off the coast round Ireland, where we were always in danger of going on the rocks, which are awful there."

"But the sea comes thundering down on the ship so."

"What of that?" I replied. "The ship's hollow, and it sounds all the more, but the water is soft, and we go through it or ride over it somehow."

"Ah, you're too young to know what fear is," he said sadly.

"Oh no, I'm not," I cried, laughing. "I've been awfully frightened several times to-night, but I'm more afraid of Jarette and his gang than I am of the sea."

"You have no sister on board," he said. "No bitter regrets for letting her come into such danger."

"No," I said, rather chokingly; "but I've got people at home, and it would be very horrid to think I should never see them again."

"Let's go on," he said laconically, and I helped him along, choosing the easiest moments till we were in shelter, and then without leaving hold of me he whispered—

"Make the best of things to her."

There was a lamp burning in the cabin as we entered, and Miss Denning sprang to our side.

"Oh, John," she cried piteously, "this will be death to you, drenched with the cold sea! Pray, pray, stay in shelter now."

"Nonsense!" he cried; "it does me good, and it's grandly exciting to fight the storm like this. How are you, little one? Ah, don't touch me, I'm wet."

"Suffering terribly, John dear. You must stay with me now."

"Tied to your apron, you foolish girl," he said merrily. "Nonsense! I'm wanted to help. There, I bring you good news. We've got all the pirates safely in prison, and as soon as the storm's over all will be right again."

Miss Denning gave me a piteous, inquiring look.

"Yes, that's quite right, Miss Denning," I said cheerfully.

"But this terrible storm; shall we be wrecked?"

"Ships don't get wrecked out in the open sea," I replied coolly, "only have their sails blown away, and sometimes lose a spar, or get a boat torn off the davits."

"Then you think we are safe?"

"Oh yes, I hope so," I replied.

"Safe? Of course, darling little cowardly sis," said Mr Denning, kissing her pale cheek very lovingly, and I felt that I had never liked him so well before, never having seen his true nature and affection for his sister.

"Now then, Mr Dale and I have to go back on duty to shoot mutineers and pirates, and you are to lie down and trust in our all taking care of you. Try and sleep for a few hours."

"Sleep!" she said reproachfully, "with you exposed to all that danger."

"Yes! Why not? To grow strong, and ready to help me if I want it."

"But, must you go, John?"

"Yes, dear," he said gravely, "I must; but, please God, the worst danger is over, and you will not hinder me from doing my duty like a man, even if I am a weak one."

She held his hand to her cheek, and smiling at me, spoke quite cheerfully.

"Come back in about an hour," she said, "and I will have coffee made with the spirit-lamp, and try and find some biscuits."

"That we will," cried Mr Denning. "Make plenty, Lena, Mr Brymer and— and the sailors will be glad of some."

She nodded, trying to look cheerful, and we left her, but had not reached the broken companion-way before a door on our right opened, a light was thrown across us, and I felt Mr Denning's arm twitch. For it was Mr Frewen coming out of the cabin in which Walters had been placed, the one in which Mr Preddle had been kept a prisoner, and as soon as he was outside he carefully locked it.

"Not much need for it," he said to us quietly, "for the little wretch is very weak still. Nice sort of characters you choose for your companions, Dale," he continued. "How do we know that you have not been contaminated, and are going to rise against us?"

"There's no fear till the storm's over, Mr Frewen," I said, laughing, and then, with the two gentlemen keeping perfectly silent, we went forward again, and had nearly reached the forecastle-hatch, when, sounding very feeble and strange, there was the report of a pistol, and we hurried forward to hear shouts of rage coming from below the hatch, and the blows of an axe being used with such effect, that before long whoever wielded it must make a way through.

Mr Brymer glanced round at us as we came up, and I saw the barrel of his revolver glistening in the pale light.

Then with his face close to the hatch he shouted—

"Once more, stop that or I fire!"

A shout of derision came from within.

"I warn you again!" roared Mr Brymer. "I fired before without trying to hit you, now I shall aim straight. Stop that this moment!"

"Fire away! Ready below, lads, I'll have it off—"

The report of the revolver, a hoarse, half-stifled cry from within, and then a yell of rage arose, to mingle with the shrieking of the wind.

"I was obliged to fire, Mr Frewen," said the mate, sharply, "for at any cost we will keep the upper hand now."

No one spoke, and I could not help shivering as I saw the stern looks of the men by me, even Mr Preddle's round smooth face looking fierce and determined.

Mr Frewen was the first to open his lips.

"It is a bitter necessity," he said; "those men must be kept down, but I am obliged to speak now. Brymer, I am a surgeon, and there are at least two wounded men there below, perhaps more. It is necessary for me to go down."

"It is impossible, Mr Frewen. If I give orders for that hatch to be opened, there will be a rush, and even if we remain masters and beat them down, it can only be at the cost of wounding more, perhaps causing death."

"Why not make a truce with them?"

"With the men it would be easy enough, but not with their leader, a scoundrel who feels that he is fighting with penal servitude before him, perhaps the halter! But, Mr Frewen, these are no times for being humane. No; that hatch shall not be opened."

"But I will stand ready, after telling the men what I am going to do, and if they will keep away while the hatch is open there can be no rush."

"I think differently, sir," said Mr Brymer, coldly.

"I agree with Mr Brymer, sir," said Mr Denning, "that it would be madness."

"But you agree with me, Mr Preddle?" cried the doctor, excitedly.

"No, I don't, Mr Frewen," came in Mr Preddle's high-pitched voice. "I don't like men to suffer, but I won't give my vote for you to go down into that wild beasts' cage."

Mr Frewen laughed bitterly, and turned to me.

"What do you say, fellow-prisoner?" he cried.

"I shall vote against Mr Frewen being allowed to go down," I said sturdily. "We want your help more than they do."

"Bravo! my lad," cried Mr Brymer.

"Well, yes; bravo! then," said the doctor, sadly. "I am beaten; I give in."

"Thank you, Frewen," cried Mr Brymer, holding out his hand, which the doctor took frankly. "I am sorry to go against you, but you are too valuable to us here. I am sure that if I let you go down, they would not let you come up gain. Jarette is fox enough to know how your absence would weaken us, and then there is the captain; I place his life as of more value than that of a mutinous crew."

"I'm convinced," said Mr Frewen. "My desire was to stay, but as a surgeon I couldn't stand still, knowing that my help was wanted down there."

"You doctors are so greedy," cried Mr Preddle. "You have two patients as it is, and if we're going, on like this I'm afraid you'll soon have some more."

"Yes," said the doctor, turning to Mr Denning, "I shall have another one. Forgive me for speaking, Mr Denning, but I think you ought to go back to your cabin now and remove your wet things."

"You mean well, sir," said Mr Denning, courteously, "but I am wanted here."

"Not now, sir," said the mate. "I think we can manage, and if you would hold yourself in readiness to turn out if we raise an alarm that would be enough."

"I am here, and I have faced so much of the storm and trouble that I will see it through now."

No one attempted to argue with him, and the watch was resumed, with the ship tearing through the water before the storm, for short-handed as we were, Mr Brymer shrank from attempting to alter her course, or riding head to wind.

From time to time there was a stir below, and voices rose angrily, but we could always hear Jarette's shrill utterances, and he generally seemed to calm the men down, or to master them, with the result that the angry sounds ceased and gave place to a low murmuring as if some plan were being discussed. After this had been going on some time, on one occasion Mr Brymer, who had been aft at the wheel with Bob Hampton and had returned in time to hear the talking, shook his head and said to Mr Frewen—

"That sounds bad. They're hatching a new plot against us. It is like having your ship on fire somewhere amongst the cargo in a place where you cannot reach. It goes on smouldering day after day, and you are in the full expectation of its breaking out. You don't know when, but you are sure that it must come before long."

"I was thinking something of the kind," replied the doctor.

And so was I, though I did not speak. And in addition, I had an idea in my head that I could not work out, and while I was trying I had another idea. The first one was, that if by any means we could catch Jarette, the mutiny would all fall to pieces; but then the job was to catch the rascal, and that puzzled me.

It was very close to daylight; and cold, low-spirited, and miserable, I was beginning to think that between the storm and the men below, the poor old Burgh Castle must come to grief, when Bob Hampton came up glistening in his oilskins.

"I were to come and say as the lady's got jorums o' hot coffee ready, sir, in the captain's cabin. Mr Denning and Mr Dale's to go first, and I'm to take the watch till they comes back."

I saw Mr Denning wince and dart a sharp look at the doctor, but the latter did not turn his head, and once more we began fighting our way back, with the ship seeming at times quite to dance on the tops of the waves.

But we reached the shelter in safety, and as soon as we were under cover I felt sure that the wind was not so fierce, and said so.

"I could not tell any difference," said Mr Denning, sadly, as we went right aft, to find the captain's cabin, right in the stern—the one through whose window I had climbed after my hazardous descent from the rigging—looking bright and cheerful, and hot coffee waiting for us, in company with sweet smiles and cheering words.

It was wonderful. One minute I had been ready to give up and think that all was over; the next, as the hot drink sent a glow through me, I was ready to smile back at Miss Denning, and join her in persuading her brother to go to his cabin and change; while the very next minute Mr Brymer came down with a large bottle, and after hastily swallowing a cup of the coffee, he begged for a bottleful to carry up to the men at the wheel.

"Is the storm still so bad, Mr Brymer?" asked Miss Denning, as the mate was about to hurry back on deck.

"No," he said emphatically. "It's one of those gales which blow in a circle, and we're passing through it. The glass is rising, and in less than an hour I think it will begin to lull." This was joyful news, and I rose to hurry back so as to take the place of Mr Preddle.

"You'll stay now, John," I heard Miss Denning say, and he answered her quite passionately.

"Don't tempt me, Lena!" he cried. "I want to stay, but I want also to— there, I will act like a man."

I did not then understand him as I did afterwards, what a strange jealous hatred and dislike there was burning within him as he caught my arm, and held it tightly.

"Help me quickly!" he whispered. "Take me back before my weakness masters me, and I break down."

"But if you are so weak?" I said anxiously. "Take me forward!" he whispered angrily. "You cannot understand."

I saw Miss Denning looking wonderingly at her brother as we went out, and again fought our way back to the forecastle-hatch, no easy task with the ship heeling over, and the spray flying as it did; but I felt hardened to it now, and the darkness did not appear so terrible, nor the danger so great, with the warm glow I felt spreading through me. Then I looked at my companion quite wonderingly, as I could just see his pale thin face, for he said quickly in a lull of the wind—

"I think I've conquered, Dale."

"Conquered? It's wonderful how brave you have been."

I saw him smile, and then wondered afresh that I could have seen the change in his face. "Why, it's getting light!" I said joyfully.

I was quite right, and as we were in the tropics the change was coming rapidly. But just then we reached the watch, and to my surprise Mr Denning said as well as the rushing wind would let him—