"Here, Neb—Barney, open something, and let's have some fresh air. My, how hot!"

He had a headache too then, and could hardly breathe for the hot closeness of the place. This roused me, and I lay thinking how strange it was that he should be just as much indisposed as I was to move. But he was a fore-mast man and I was an officer, so I had only to speak to be obeyed, and after making two or three efforts which only resulted in a dull muttering sound, Bob Hampton exclaimed—

"Here, whatcher talking about? Who is it, and what do you want?"

"I say, open the window, Bob, and let's have some fresh air."

There was a quick rustling movement close by me, as if some one had risen upon his elbow, and he exclaimed—

"What d'yer say?"

"Open the window, Bob; I'm half-stifled."

"So'm I, my lad. Here, what's the matter? What are you doing here?"

"No," I said; "what are you doing here in the cabin, Bob?"

"I arn't in the cabin, my lad, and you arn't in the cabin, for this arn't in it, and—Here, I say, what's up?"

"I don't know," I said peevishly, "but it's so hot I can't bear it; do open something."

"Blest if I—Look here, my lad—There arn't anything to open anywheres, and my head won't go. Would you mind telling me where the sky-light is, for I s'pose I had too much grog last night like a fool, and I arn't werry clear in the head."

"I don't know, I can't tell, Bob. It's all a puzzle."

"And it's so plaguey dark, my lad. Wait a bit and I'll feel round with my fingers, for eyes aren't no good here."

"Well," I said, for there was a good deal of rustling, "what can you feel?"

"Chesties and casks, my lad, and we're a-lying on 'em—leastwise I am. What are we two a-lying on chesties and casks for?"

"I don't know, Bob. But who's that snoring so?"

"Where?"

"Somebody was snoring just now, but it stopped when you spoke."

"Then I s'pose it must ha' been me, my lad. I have heard say as I could play a pretty good toon on my nose when I was very fast asleep."

"No. There it goes again," I said in a hoarse whisper, as the noise which I had first heard recommenced.

"Oh, there's no gammon 'bout that, my lad. That there's Neb Dumlow. If ever you're anywheres and hears a sound like a vessel blowing off her steam under water, all snort and bubble, you may take your oath it's Neb Dumlow. Here, I'll stop that."

"Wait a moment, Bob," I said. "I want to know first where we are."

"So do I, my lad, but it seems to me, as my old mother used to say, that want'll be your master. I dunno, my lad; arn't dead and buried, are we?"

"Don't talk nonsense," I said peevishly. "Look here,—were you on the middle watch last night?"

"Dunno, my lad,—were you?"

"I can't recollect, Bob. But do try. We must be somewhere in the dark, and it's that which puzzles us."

"Oh yes, there's no gammon about that, my lad; we're somewheres in the dark, and it's 'bout the solidest, thickest darkness I ever found myself in. Here, I'll wake up old Neb. He's very ugly and precious stoopid, but he'll tell us where we are in a jiffy. Here! Hi! Avast there! Neb!"

"Hullo!" came in answer to what sounded like a heavy shaking after Bob Hampton had crept by me.

"Now, my lad, rouse up a bit."

"Our watch, old man?"

"No; not yet."

"Bless yer. Good-night."

Snore.

"No, no; rouse up."

"Well, all right, messmate. That there's flesh and blood you've got hold on, not suit. Don't skin me."

"Then wake up."

"Well, I'm woke up. What is it? Who's dowsed the lantern?"

"I d'know. Here's Mr Dale wants you to tell him where we are."

"Mr Dale?"

"Yes; I said so, didn't I, stoopid?"

"Course you did, matey, but what's he doing here?"

"That's what he wants you to tell him, only he wants to know first where here is."

There was the sound of some one feeling about, and I fancied I could hear some one else breathing, but I was not sure, and I listened patiently for what Neb Dumlow was going to say. But Bob Hampton was the first to speak, and he said in a gruff whisper—

"He's a awful thick-headed chap, sir, but I think he'll hit it off for us directly."

"Messmate!" came from a little way off.

"Well?"

"Has some one been having a lark with us?"

"I dunno, and I don't know anything," growled Bob. "You arn't wanted to ask questions, but to answer what Mr Dale wants to know. Now, then, what d'yer make of it?"

"Nowt."

"Well, where are we?"

"Dunno."

"What!—can't yer tell?"

"Can't find bottom, my lad; only seem to arrive at one thing."

"Well, what is it?"

"Well, it's this here; if it was me and you and old Barney—where is old Barney?"

"Here, messmate."

"Oh, come then, I might be right, on'y you see we've got Mr Dale with us."

"Look here, what are you fogging about? Why don't you say what yer mean, my lad? Now then, out with it. Where are we?—'cause Mr Dale wants to know."

"Well, as he's here, we can't be here," growled Dumlow.

"What d'yer mean, stoopid?"

"Why, we can't be where I thought we was."

"And wheers that?"

"Why, my lad, it looks like this here 'cording to what I feels. But stop a moment, let's ask Barney a question. Barney, old lad!"

"Hullo!"

"How's yer head?"

"Just as if it was a beehive, and all the bees swarming."

"That's it. Then we are here, and all I've got to say for myself is, as I wonder I could ha' been such a fool, and I'm sorry as Mr Dale don't know better."

"Then where are we, Dumlow?" I said hastily; "for I don't know any better."

"Then you ought to, sir; you a orficer and brought up proper. I wonder at you a-leading men into trouble, and there'll be an awful row when old Brymer finds us out."

"He's got it, sir," said Bob Hampton. "It's what I thought, and it's a rum 'un."

"Then, where are we?" I said pettishly; for my head kept on feeling as if it was spinning round.

"Why, sir," said Dumlow; "we're down in the hold among them sperrit casks as was stowed by themselves, and some one's been opening one of 'em with a gimlet and letting us all drink."

"Hist!"

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

A long, low knocking as of knuckles against a bulk-head.

"Come in!" growled Bob Hampton. "Here's the cook brought your shaving-water, sir."

The tapping was repeated, and sounded some little distance off.

"Answer them, whoever it is, Bob," I said; for this seemed to be something, if not tangible, at all events certain.

There was a little rustling about, and the tapping came again.

"Why don't you answer them?" I said tetchily.

"What do you mean, sir—shout?"

"No, no; tap again."

"But there arn't nothin' to knock on, sir. It's no good to hit the top, or the floor."

"But there must be a partition somewhere," I said.

"Dessay there is, sir; but I can't tell where it is."

"Are we not somewhere near the forecastle?"

"Dessay we are, sir; but my head's some'at like a lump o' solid wood. What did you bring us down here for?"

"I! Bring you down! Nonsense, man. I did not bring you."

"Then how did we come, sir? Do you know, Neb?"

"No."

"Do you, Barney?"

"No. I only knows here we are, and my head's a rum 'un."

"But there must be some reason for us being here," I said piteously, as I struggled vainly to get beyond what seemed to be a black curtain hanging between the past and present.

"Yes, sir," said Bob, coolly; "there must be some reason."

"Then what is it, Bob?"

"Oh, don't ask me, sir; I arn't no scholard. I'm all muzzly like. Seems to me that we've been to one o' they casks,—and all the time it don't. No; we arn't had no drink. We shouldn't with all that there trouble a-hanging over us."

"Yes, Bob," I said eagerly, for he had touched a chord which set me thinking—I mean trying to think; "that trouble hanging over us. There was some trouble, wasn't there?"

"Oh yes, sir; we was in a lot o' trouble about something, but blest if I know what it was."

"Well; try, man," I cried. "Think about trouble. What trouble was it?"

"No, sir, I dunno," he cried, after a pause. "We're aboard the Burgh Castle still, arn't we?"

"I don't know," I began. "Yes, of course we are, and we must be down in the hold. It's coming now, I think. Why did we come down here? Surely one of you must know."

"It arn't likely, sir, if you don't," growled Dumlow.

"But what were we in trouble about?" I said, for—I cannot describe it—there was the thick feeling of something having happened; but strange as it may seem, neither I nor the men could make anything out about what had preceded our unnatural sleep.

"It's a rum 'un," said Bob Hampton at last. "I dunno. It's a rum 'un."

"But cannot either of you think at all?" I cried in agony. "It seems so horrible to be here like this in black darkness, and not know how or why."

"Or what?" suggested Bob.

"I think I've got it now," said Dumlow.

"Yes; what is it?"

"All gone mad wi' being so much out in the sun."

"You may be mad, Neb, I arn't, and I don't mean to. I'll take my trick at the wheel and box the compass with any on yer. Wheel—wheel," he added, thoughtfully—"steering. Why arn't I at the wheel now?"

"'Cause you're here, messmate," said Dumlow.

"But I was a-steering when you comes, Mr Dale, sir, and brings me a plate o' wittles, and you says, says you—"

"Oh!" I cried excitedly.

"No, you didn't, sir, beggin' your parding; you says something about could I steer and eat too, and I says—no, you says—no, it was I says; well, it was one or t'other of us, I can't quite 'member which says, 'put it on the binnacle,'—and it was put there, and I ate it, and it was very good."

"Oh!" I cried again, as I pressed my temples with my hands, for I could see a faint gleam of light peeping through into my head, or so it seemed; but it kept on dying out again, and I was blank of memory again as ever.

"Did you say wittles?" cried Dumlow, suddenly.

"Ay, mate, I did."

"Why, I 'members something 'bout wittles. O' course. Me and you, Bob."

"When? Where?"

"Ah, I dunno when it was, nor wheer it was, but—"

"She's dying—she's dying," I cried; for those words came cutting through the black silence, and gave me quite a pang.

"Who's she? And what's she a-dying for?" growled Bob Hampton.

"Toe be sure, mate," said Dumlow, "that's what Mr Denning says as he come out of his cabin. 'She's dying,' he says, and you and me got up and sat down again feeling as silly as two booby birds."

"Here, you don't know what you're talking about, messmate," said Bob Hampton.

"Yes, he does," I cried excitedly, for a greater light seemed to have now flashed into my brain. "You did go into the saloon to have—Oh, Bob Hampton, I recollect it all now."

"Do you, sir? Then let's have it," he said gruffly.

"There was a great mistake made," I cried.

"Seems like it, sir."

"And, yes," I continued, "I know Barney went to sleep at the wheel."

"That's a lie!" he rapped out. "Leastwise, I beg your pardon, sir; I mean I arn't the sort o' man to go to sleep on duty."

"No, no; of course not, Barney," I said piteously; "but you did, and Bob Hampton and Neb Dumlow came and laid down on the deck, and I saw it all, and heard it, and, oh dear, oh dear! what a terrible mess!"

"Arn't he going off his head, matey?" whispered Dumlow; but I heard him.

"No, no, man; it's all coming back now. You don't know, but you must now; it was a plan to give the mutineers stuff to send them all to sleep, and it was changed and given to us instead."

"Beg pardon, sir," said Bob Hampton; "but hadn't you better lie down and go to sleep again?"

"Why, Bob?"

"'Cause, to speak plain English, you're talking nonsense, sir."

"No, man; it's sense. That fellow Dean heard all, and changed the tins."

"Now, do lie down, sir; it's o' no use for you to go on worrying yourself about tins."

"I tell you I can see it all now, man," I cried angrily. "We took the stuff, and the prisoners got off. They're out now, and we're prisoners. Don't you see?"

"No, sir; it's too dark. But—"

"I tell you I'm all right. My head is come clear again, and I can think. We were all confused through taking Mr Frewen's stuff."

"I never took none o' the doctor's stuff," growled Dumlow. "And I don't never mean to."

"Are you sure o' what you're saying, sir?" said Bob Hampton.

"Certain, Bob."

"I arn't."

"You hold your tongue, and don't be sarcy, Neb," growled Bob. "I'm a-beginning to see now. Mr Dale's right. If he warn't, how could we be shut up down here with our heads as thick as if we'd been having 'em stuffed? That's it, sir, though I don't half understand what you say. Then we've all been hocussed, and Jarette's got the upper hand again?"

"Yes, Bob, I'm afraid so."

"Well, that's ugly, my lad; but there's no help for it now, and the sooner we get to work and take the ship again, I suppose, the better."

"Yes, Bob," I said. "Of course."

"Very well, my lad, then here goes. I'm glad it's how you say, for I was beginning to think I'd got crazed, and been shut up for being violent. That's a comfort anyhow, for I don't hold with a man going off his head."

"Then it's all right, messmate?" growled Dumlow.

"Right as it can be in a place like this, matey. Yer can't breathe, nor you can't see, and—well now, that's queer. You seem to ha' set my head working again, Mr Dale, sir; and I recklect sittin' in the s'loon eating our dinner arter you gents had done, and then coming over all pleasant and comfble like, and then I don't seem to 'member no more till I woke up down here."

"And that knocking we heard must be some of the others," I cried excitedly.

"That's sartain, sir."

"Is there any one else here beside us four?"

"If there be," says Barney, "we're a-lying on 'em, for there arn't no room without as I can see."

"Yer can't see," growled Dumlow.

"Well, I didn't mean with my eyes, Neb; so don't be so chuff on a fellow. I meant with my understanding."

"Don't. Don't get arguing together," I cried impatiently. "It is suffocating down here. I want to understand how we are placed, and I can't quite make it out yet."

"Well, sir, p'r'aps I can help you a bit," said Bob. "Seems to me as they pulled up a hatch and pitched us in, and then battened it down again."

"And where are our friends?"

"Why, they'd shove 'em where we shoved they, down in the forksle, I should say, unless they've stuffed 'em in the cable-tier."

"Yes, perhaps so," I said thoughtfully.

"Why, o' course," growled Dumlow.

"What? They are in the cable-tier?"

"Oh, I dunno, sir; I was a-thinking about our taking they wittles in the s'loon, and it's come back like sort o' bells ringing in my ear, and Mr Denning saying she's dying. Oh yes, I recklect that, and the doctor coming. That's 'bout as far as I can get."

"I 'member the wittles on the binnacle quite plain now," said Barney; "and, yes, o' course, I kep' coming over all soft like, and wantin' to sing songs, and listen to moosic, and couldn't sing; but it was all silver and gold and sunshine and beautiful birds in beautiful trees. Yes, it's all right, sir. You see now, don't you, Neb?"

"No, I can't see nowt; but I dessay it's all right. I don't want to know; it don't matter to me."

"Hush!" I whispered. "There's that knocking again."

There it was quite plainly, and then came a repetition seemingly close at hand,—three smart taps as of knuckles on a chest.

"There's some one else, and quite near," I said in a low voice.

"No, my lad, that was me. Here's a big case behind me, and I let go on it."

There were three more taps at a distance.

"Knock again," I said, and this time Bob struck twice.

A few moments later there were distinctly heard two knocks.

"They heard us," I said, and answered. "Try again with one."

He struck once as loudly as he could, and we waited excitedly to hear one blow given apparently on a bulk-head.

"Those are our friends there," I cried excitedly.

"If it arn't old Frenchy gammoning us, sir," said Barney.

"I think it must be our friends," I said, feeling unwilling to give up the idea; and I was going to add something, when there came to us plainly enough the sound of feet passing somewhere overhead, and directly after a voice shouted something, but what we could not hear.



CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

Our heads, on comparing notes, began to feel more bearable, and as the throbbing gradually died away we could feel that the effort to think was easier, while our thoughts were clearer, and before long we began to feel about so as to learn what kind of place we were in, and made out that it was an oblong kind of space between cases, and with barrels underneath, and upon which we had been lying when we began to come to. We could learn nothing further, and there were no replies now to the tappings we gave from time to time, a fact which made my heart sink rather low. For I knew that there must be some reason for this, and I was trying to puzzle it out, when Barney Blane said suddenly—

"Say, messmates, arn't it 'bout time as some 'un came round to feed the crew?"

"Ay," said Bob, "and the sooner they do it the better. I'm getting wild for want o' somethin' to stow in my hold. They've got to bring something too, or I'll soon let 'em know."

"Know what, Bob?" I said anxiously, for the man's voice sounded fierce and strange.

"Why, sir, they threatened us as to what they'd do; fired it right into my ear, Jarette did. He says to me he says, 'If yer don't soon let us out, I'll set fire to the ship.'"

"Yes, I know he did," I said.

"That's 'robborative evidence, messmates, when yer orficer says you're right. Well, then, what I says to him is this, I've got a box o' matches in my pocket, and if they don't soon let us out, or put us somewhere so as we can breathe, I'll set the blessed old Burgh Castle alight myself and burn our way out."

"Nonsense," I cried; "you're mad."

"And 'nuff to make me, sir. That there stuff we took's set up a reg'lar fierce annymile or something in my inside, as goes on gnaw, gnaw, gnaw, till I shan't be able to stand it much longer, and shall have to break out."

"Well, you are a rum 'un, Bob," said Barney. "Why, you're not going to turn canniball, are yer, at your time o' life?"

"What d'yer mean?"

"Talking about eating your messmates."

"Who did? What yer talking about? Nobody wouldn't want to eat you, Barney. If I wanted to get the flavour o' 'bacco in my mouth I'd get it from a quid, and while a man could get at a bit o' oak or an old shoe he wouldn't think o' trying to gnaw old Neb. What d'yer mean?"

"Then what d'yer talk o' roasting us for in that there mad way, matey?"

"Oh, well, I don't know as I meant it, messmate, but I'm that hungry just now as never was."

"That will do," I said, asserting my position as officer. "Silence, please."

"All right, sir; all right," growled Bob. "I'm ready. What yer going to do?"

"Try and feel about, Bob, to find where the hatch is. We must get some air somehow."

"That's right, sir. Come on, lads, and have a try. Who's got knives?"

"I have," said Barney. "Me too," growled Dumlow. "That's right, then; we may have to use 'em."

Then a rustling sound began, and I knew that the men were feeling about overhead; while being able to think pretty clearly now, I came to the conclusion that we had been thrown down here, the hatches put on again, and the tarpaulin spread over them, and that was why it was so airless and hot.

I had an endorsement of my opinion a minute later, for Bob growled out—

"Here's the hatches, sir, and they're all battened down and the 'paulins is nailed over 'em. I'll soon have some fresh air in." And before I could grasp what he was going to do, I heard a curious ripping sound, which told me that he had passed the blade of his long Spanish spring-knife through between two of the cross-hatches, and was cutting through it.

"There!" he said, as a gleam of light struck through, so brilliant that I knew it must be broad daylight; and even that ray sent a thrill of hope through me, for it seemed to bring me nearer to the living world after feeling as if I had been buried alive.

"Don't cut any more yet, Bob," I whispered.

"But that there hole won't give enough air for one man to sniff, sir. You must have another to let out the steam."

"But listen first," I said. "Can you hear any one on deck?"

There was perfect silence for some minutes, and then came a deep—

"No."

"What time should you think it is?"

"'Bout four bells, I should say, sir. Sun's shining down so as the tarpaulin's made the hatch hot."

"Then the lubbers are all having a caulk," growled Dumlow. "Tell him to have another cut, sir, and a good long 'un this time."

I hesitated for a few moments, shrinking from doing anything to let the enemy know that we were trying to get out; but the heat was so terrible that I was obliged to give the order at last.

"Cut, Bob," I whispered, and there was a low buzz of satisfaction as the knife ripped through the tarred canvas, and we could see a long streak of bright light.

"'Nother, sir?" said Bob.

"Yes," I said desperately, "we shall be suffocated if you don't."

Rip went the tarpaulin again, and another streak of light a short distance from the others appeared, while directly after, without waiting for orders, Bob lengthened the first cut he had made till it equalled the two latter.

"Won't be much better," he growled, "but it's better than nothing. Shall I get under the end of one of the hatches now, sir, and try and push it up?"

"No, not yet. If we do that it ought to be after dark. But I don't think there will be any chance, for they are sure to be well fastened down. Listen again. There must be some one on deck."

"Yes, sir, for sartain, but they'll be up at the other end. Dessay they're a-feeding o' themselves, and got plenty to drink."

"Ay, trust 'em, messmate," growled Dumlow, "but it's no use to grumble. Ups and downs in life we see. We're down now, and it's their turn."

"Now," said Barney.

"Hush!" I whispered.

We all listened, and plainly heard a step overhead, as if a man was walking along the deck. It passed by, sounding fainter, and died away, but at the end of a minute we heard it again, and knew that whoever it might be, he was returning and would pass by us again.

This happened, and I feared that he would notice the cuts in the tarpaulin, but he went on, the footsteps grew fainter, and I fancied that I heard them continue on the ladder as the man ascended to the poop-deck.

"Could you tell who that was, Bob?" I said.

"Ay, sir. No mistaking that pair o' legs. They don't go like an Englishman's would. That was old Jarette."

I set my teeth hard, and almost writhed at the feeling of impotence which troubled me. To have been so near success, and then for that scoundrel, who had promised to work faithfully for us if he were forgiven, to have played the spy, and contrived after hearing our plot to change the contents of the tins. For it was all clear enough now in my memory, and I could recall every word the man had said to the cook.

"We ought to have kept some one on the watch while we made our plans," I said to myself, but felt how absurd it was to murmur now that the mischief was done.

The heat seemed a little less intense now, but it was so terrible that the throbbing in my head commenced again, and I was ready to order an attempt to be made to force up one side of the hatch, when there was a whisper.

"What say, Bob?" I replied.

"Didn't speak, sir," was the reply.

"You then, Dumlow?"

"No; not me, sir."

"Well then, Barney, it was you," I said tetchily. "What do you want?"

"I never spoke, sir," said Barney, in an ill-used tone. "What do they want to say it was me for?"

"Cheer up!" came now quite plainly.

"Eh? Who spoke?"

"Friend," was whispered again.

"Yes, what? Who is it?"

"Pst!"

I waited for whoever it was to speak again, but there was not another sound, and I turned to where I believed Bob to be lying.

"Who could that be?" I said.

"Well, sir, when a man blows his words down through a slit in a tarpaulin—"

"You think it came down through the hole you cut?"

"Yes, sir, sure on it; but as I was a-saying, when a man blows his words down like that he might just as well be whistlin' a hornpipe for all you can tell who it is. But if I was put upon my oath afore a judge I should swear as it were Plum Duff."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"Well, sir, old Byled Salt Pork."

"The cook?"

"That's him, sir."

"But he whispered 'Friend,'" I panted excitedly.

"Yes, and that's what bothered me. If it had been any one else it would ha' been all right, but one can't quite believe in a cook being your friend at any time. After what has taken place just lately I should say he was the worsest enemy we ever had."

"No, no," I cried eagerly, "the man could not help it. He was innocent enough. It was that scoundrel who did the mischief."

"All right, sir; have it your own way. I'm willing."

"Then we have one friend on deck."

"Yes, sir, and s'pose he'll doctor the lot of 'em this next time and have us all up on deck again. Good luck to him. I hope he'll look sharp about it."

"Hist! What's that?"

It was the three knocks again plainly heard from forward somewhere, and plain proof that we had other friends who would gladly join us in a combination against our common enemy.



CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

We answered the knocks, which were repeated, and we soon found that we could signal to or talk to our friends forward, for we had pretty well made out now which was fore and which aft, though it was evidently a dead calm again, and the ship was rolling slowly from side to side.

But though we could signal and converse, there was no code for the signals, and our conversation was in an unknown tongue.

I suppose it was the heat, or the fact that I had gone through so terrible an experience from the narcotic, which made me feel so intensely irritable, for after our knocking and tapping had gone on for some time, I exclaimed—

"I wish to goodness they wouldn't. What is the good of their keeping on doing that? It means nothing, and does no good."

"Oh, but it do mean something, sir," said Bob.

"Well, then, what?"

"They keep on tapping to show us where they are, and means us to go to them."

"Why don't they come to us?" I said, in a tone full of vexation.

"'Cause they can't, sir."

"And we can't go to them," I cried pettishly.

"Well, I don't know, sir; I've been thinking as perhaps we could."

"But how, man? We can't get through all these cases and barrels and things."

"No, sir; but praps we might manage to creep along over 'em. One on us ought to volunteer to try."

"All right; volunteer it is," growled Dumlow. "I'll go."

"There you are, Mr Dale, sir. Never say die. Wait a minute, Neb, old man, and let's set my fingers and thumbs to work to try whether they can see a hole as 'll soot you to go along by."

"There can't be any holes, Bob," I said.

"Mebbe not, sir; but I tell you what cargo does in a voyage, specially if you get a storm or two to shake it together. You may pack it and jam it as much as you like when you're in dock, but it's sure to settle a bit, and leave some room up at the top. I'm going to try whether there arn't some o' that room here."

We waited almost breathlessly, and listened to our fellow-prisoner as he rustled about; and then my heart gave a bound, for he exclaimed—

"Here's plenty o' room here, sir, just at the top, but it goes aft. This can't be toward the bows. But it was this way as the knocking came, warn't it?"

"No, no, no," we all cried. "The other way."

"Look at that," growled Bob. "My head can't be right yet, or else it's the darkness as confooses a man. It's like being in a thick fog and having to steer."

"Try again," I said.

"Ay, ay, sir; I'll try again, o' course."

"I say, don't kneel on a man's chesty like that, messmate," grumbled Dumlow.

"Then why don't you put your chesty somewheres else?" growled Bob. "You're allers lying about all over the deck."

"Nay, I arn't, matey," remonstrated Dumlow. "Speak the truth, my lad, if you can."

"Why, you're spreadin' about on your back now, arn't yer?"

"Course I am, mate; I was trying how flat I could make myself 'fore I started on the adwenter."

"Try, pray try the other way, Bob, and don't quarrel so—"

"Now hark at that, Barney, when I'm trying all I can to be as civil and smooth as butter, on'y Neb let out at me."

There was a pause, and we could hear Bob grunting as he felt about in the other direction, sending joy into all our hearts directly, just as the tapping began again.

"It's just as I said, Mr Dale, sir," he whispered. "The knocking comes along over the cargo here, and there is just room for a man to creep along."

"Hush! let me answer the knocking first," I whispered.

"Never mind the knocking, sir; let's get to 'em 'fore we misses the chance. Now, Neb, lad; ready?"

"Ready it is, messmate."

"Here you are then; on'y go face downwards."

"Would yer? Can't breathe so well if you turns yer fizzy mahogany down."

"And yer can't crawl so well if yer goes with it up."

"You had better crawl, Dumlow," I whispered; "but try and go straight toward where the knocking came from."

"He'll be 'bliged to, sir. No doubt about that, 'cause there arn't no other way. Now then, I'll give yer a hyste. Can you manage it?"

There was a loud breathing and panting, and though Barney Blane and I could see nothing with our eyes, yet we could mentally picture the great slow-moving sailor crawling into an aperture between the beams and the heterogeneous stowing of bales and boxes, casks and crates of all kinds of goods en route for our destination.

Now we knew that his head and chest were in, for his voice came in a half-smothered tone.

"Deal hotter in here, messmate. Just take hold o' my hind legs, as if they was part of a wheelbarrow, and give 'em a lift and a shove at the same time."

"That right?"

"Yes; that's good. Steady!"

"Steady it is."

"Now another. With a will, my lad."

"Right. How far are yer in?"

"Up to the middle, lad; and if yer give another shove I can get a bit of a pull here. That's yer sort."

"I can't get you up no farder, messmate," said Bob. "Yes, I can, if you clap your foots together. I'll plant my hands again 'em, and ram yer along that way. Ready?"

"Ay, ready," came in smothered tones.

"There you goes then," growled Bob. "Now another. I'll shove yer feet with my hands."

There was a loud grunting and rustling, and Bob said, panting—

"There he goes. I've sent him in as far as I can reach. He must do the rest hisself."

We crouched there just under the streaks of light which came down from the cuts, listening for a good ten minutes to the scuffling, scrambling noise made by the big sailor, but they all sounded close to us, as if he was not making much way; but I concluded that this was because the opening conducted the sound so well, and in hopeful anticipation I saw the brave fellow going on and on along the top of the cargo till he reached the forecastle bulk-head, upon which our friends must have tapped their signals. Then we should be able to arrange a plan of co-operation, and perhaps succeed in re-taking the vessel, when crash! down went my card castle.

"Bob!" came in smothered tones.

"Hullo."

"Can't get any farder, mate."

"Why?"

"I'm too big."

"Well, then, come back and let me try."

"Can't, mate."

"Why?"

"'Cause I'm stuck fast, and can't move either way a hinch."

Bang, bang! came on the hatches overhead, in company with a loud talking, and above it the voice of Jarette.

"Have it off, my lads. Only one, my braves. And below there, be quiet all of you. Make a movement, and I'll shoot you down like dogs."

Those were terrible moments. The sudden glare of light by the removal of the hatch dazzled us, a couple of pistols were thrust down, and a bucket of water was lowered. Then some biscuits were thrown to us, as if we were the dogs of which Jarette had spoken; and I crouched there motionless, thinking only of Dumlow jammed in there amongst the cases, and expecting moment by moment to hear him call out for help.

But, poor fellow, he was as silent as we were, feeling as he did and afterwards said to me, that it would have been like telling Jarette that we had a chance of getting out.

But before the hatch was rattled on again, and hammered down into its place, I managed to get a glimpse of the opening in among the cargo, into which we had been thrown, and in that rapid glance I grasped the fact that it had evidently been made by the removal of a number of cases, probably hoisted out by Jarette's men.

I did not breathe freely again till the hatch was replaced, but I did then, from the fact that the strain was taken off my mind, and the hatch had been off long enough for the foul hot air below to rise, and be replaced by fresh.

To my great delight the tarpaulin was not put down over the opening, and consequently there were a few vivid pencils of light to brighten our prison.

We waited till the men had gone forward, and then I spoke to Dumlow.

"Are you sure you can't get any farther?" I whispered.

"Yes, sartain, sir."

"Then make another trial and get back at once."

"Can't, sir."

"Nonsense," I cried, speaking sharply to inspirit him; "if the hole was big enough for you to go in, it's big enough for you to come out."

"No it arn't, cause it's like a rat-trap, and the corners and things keeps you from getting back, sir."

The perspiration began to stand out on my forehead, and a strange feeling of horror came over me as I thought of the man's position, and of what might happen if he could not get back; while just as thoughts of suffocation ensuing came rushing through my mind, the object of my thoughts suddenly said in a low husky voice—

"Bob, lad?"

"Hullo, mate!"

"You and Barney get hold of a leg each, and haul me back, or I shall be suffocated."

"Yah! not you; wiggle yourself back, matey."

"There arn't no wiggle left in me, lad, and it's so hot that I can't breathe."

"Have another try," whispered Barney.

We heard a rustling, struggling sound as if some one was striving hard to get forward or back, but without result, and then the voice came more husky and smothered than ever.

"No go, lads. Look sharp and have me out, or I'm a goner."

"Get out," growled Bob, quite excitedly. "You don't half try."

"I did, mate, but I'm getting worse," came back faintly, "I'm a-swelling up and fitting tighter every moment. Can't yer get me out?"

"Here, ketch hold of one o' his legs, Barney," growled Bob, hurriedly. "We must have him out somehow. Got him?"

"There arn't no room, messmate."

"Lie up close to me and reach in together. Head in too."

A low groan now came from the hold, and though I could not see, of course I knew what was going on, and could estimate the difficulties of the position. Dumlow's two messmates, in their efforts to help him, were making his position more perilous, for they were forcing their heads and shoulders into the opening, and stopping off what little air could get to him.

There was another groan.

"Don't make a row, lad, we're doing our best," came in a distant voice which sounded as far away as poor Dumlow's groans. "Got him, matey?"

"Ay, ay."

"Both together. Yo ho, ahoy!"

This was all quite in a smothered tone, and accompanied by jerking and dragging sounds, which as they were kept up were accompanied and followed by feeble groans.

"Quick, quick!" I cried. "Have him out, or they'll hear on deck."

No one answered, and I moved forward and tried to help by clasping Bob round the waist.

"Ahoy! Ahoy! Haul away—hoy!"

All in quite a smothered whisper, and then there was another moan.

"Now again. All together."

I joined in and dragged with all my might, but our efforts were in vain, Barney paused to get a fresh messmate's legs.

"He's worked himself on till he's regularly jammed in," growled Bob. "Now then, once more; we must have him, or he'll be a dead 'un. Haul. Now then!"

We all dragged together. There was a sudden giving way, a rush, and I was on my back with two men—it felt like three—upon me, and I dare not call out in my horror and pain, but had to lie there listening to passing footsteps overhead until they had gone, and then to my greater horror Bob Hampton growled out—

"Well, we've got his legs, anyhow."

There was a smothered groan once more.

"It's all right, messmate," said Barney. "Here's his uppards and head come too. Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. Are you hurt?"

"Hurt?—yes!" I said angrily, "but never mind me. How's Dumlow?"

There was a low groan in answer.

"Oh, he's all right, sir," said Barney. "We didn't break him. He's all out."

"No, he arn't all right," growled Bob, who was feeling about in the dark. "He's in a reg'lar muddle, I dunno what's the matter with him. Strikes me we've pulled him inside out."

"Go on with yer. It's all right. It's on'y his jersey pulled right over his head and shoulders, and most off his arms. That's the way. There you are. You're all right now, arn't you, Neb?"

"Oh, my heye!" muttered the great fellow, and I felt a profound sense of satisfaction in hearing him speak again. "I began to think I was a goner."

"Not you," said Bob.

"Warn't the skin all off o' me, Barney?"

"Nay, not it, lad."

"Sure? Felt as if you was a-stripping of it all off o' me when I began to come."

"Nay, you're in your skin right enough, messmate."

"Sure, Barney? 'Cause I feel precious sore uppards."

"Sure? Yes. There, I'm glad we got you out without breaking."

"So'm I, mate, werry glad indeed. I'm two sizes too big for a hole like that, and I don't think it's any use for me to try again."

As he spoke there came the three signal knocks, and as Bob answered them he growled out—

"Oh yes, we know you're there. Look here, Mr Dale, sir. I'm two sizes smaller than Neb; I'm going to have a try."

"No, you'd better not, Bob," I whispered. "Let's wait and try to break through the hatch."

"Nay, sir, we ought to get along with them if we could. I'll just try, I'm quite two sizes smaller than Neb, and I won't be such an old silly as to go and ram myself in fast. Say I may go, sir."

"Yes, sir, let him go," said Dumlow. "It'll take some o' the conceit out on him when he gets stuck fast."

"Well then, go, Bob, but pray be careful."

"Ay, ay, sir, I'll be careful, for I've got a great respeck for Bob Hampton, mariner. But you'll lend a hand, Neb, if I want hauling out?"

"I just wall," growled the big fellow. "You shall have it, messmate."

I felt very much disposed to stop him, but while I was hesitating there was the old scuffling noise, and I could mentally see Bob Hampton shuffling in the opening above the cases, and soon after there was a grunting and panting, followed by a low muttering in the hole.

"What d'yer say, messmate?" whispered Barney.

Pat!

"Here, I say, mind what you're arter," cried Barney, angrily. "You kicked me right in the chin. I don't want my teeth loosened that how."

"Why, he's a-comin' back," growled Neb.

For the shuffling and rustling was continued, and the next minute Bob Hampton was back and lying along the casks.

"Couldn't you get any farther?" I said, feeling greatly relieved at his return.

"No, sir. Neb's two sizes too large for the place, and I'm one size. I got as far as he did, and if I'd moved a bit farder I should ha' stuck."

"Yer didn't go as far as I did."

"Yes, I did, mate."

"How d'yer know?"

"'Cause I brought back your knife as lay just where I reached."

Neb Dumlow grunted, and Bob drew a series of very long breaths.

"Rayther hot in there, sir, and Neb had swallowed up all the fresh air there was."

"And precious little too. I could ha' swallowed bucketsful more if I'd had it."

"Lor'! what a fuss you two chaps make," said Barney. "I knowed that's how it would be. There, shut your eyes, both on you, and see yer father do it."

"You're not going, Barney?" I whispered.

"Oh yes, I am, sir. I can do it."

"Yes, sir, let him go," said Bob. "He's a reg'lar conger-eely sort o' fellow, as can wiggle hisself through a gas-pipe a'most. You let him go, and see what he can do."

"Yes, sir, let me have a try," said Barney, and I reluctantly consented, though I had very little hope of his getting through.

"Hadn't us better have a biscuit and a drink of water first, sir?" said Bob Hampton. "I'm strange and hungry yet."

In my excitement I had forgotten all about the food, and giving the word, we squatted down round the bucket of water to nibble our biscuits and have a good drink from time to time; and in spite of the heat and closeness of our prison, that was one of the most enjoyable meals I ever ate.

We had just finished when we heard Jarette and his followers talking above us, and the subject of their discourse, as far as I could make it out, seemed to be something about a boat.

Then I heard Jarette say something that sounded like—

"Bah, my brave! He won't die. Well, let him. He'll be out of the way."

Then there was a good deal of thumping and stamping about, and I fancied that they were going to open the hatch again.

Under these circumstances I did not let Barney, who was thoroughly eager to show his prowess, make the trial; but at last all was quiet on deck, save that there was a good deal of talking and singing right aft, and as it seemed to me in the saloon.

"They've got some good stuff forrard there, lads," said Barney, suddenly.

"Why, o' course. I know," growled Bob Hampton, "and they might ha' left one or two lots for us."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"Why, sir, here's where there was a whole lot o' cases o' champagne stored, and they fished them out, and left this here hole as we're in. I wouldn't mind a drop o' that now to cheer us up again. It's werry good stuff, ain't it?"

"What, champagne, Bob? I don't know. They say it is, but I never tasted it."

"More didn't we, sir," said Bob.

"You speak for yourself, old man," said Barney.

"Well, you ain't tasted it, and you know it," growled Bob, "so tell the truth."

"Well, I can't say as ever I did taste champagne," said Barney, "but I've had a bottle—ay, bottles and bottles—o' what comes next to it, and fizzles up wonderful."

"Why, what does?"

"Joeydone, or Sueydone, or something like that they calls it. It arn't so very bad. Might go now, sir, mightn't I?"

"Well, yes, if you mean to try."

"Oh yes, I mean to try, sir," he said. "Dessay I can manage it. Shall I start?"

"Yes," I replied, and without a moment's pause he rose, thrust his head and shoulders into the hole, and as he drew himself in, he began to whistle.

"He'd better save his wind," grumbled Dumlow. "He'll want it soon."

"Ay, that's the worst o' young chaps, they're so wasteful," muttered Bob Hampton. "But they thinks they knows best. How are you getting on, messmate?"

"Tidy—tidy!" came back. "It arn't so very tight."

The rustling went on, and I heard Dumlow whisper—

"When he holloas, let's fetch him out with a will."

"Ay, ay, but he don't holloa," said Bob. "Why, he've got farder than we did."

"Nay, not he. Why, he have though!"

For the whistling went on, just a softened hissing, and it was evident that Barney had got some distance in. What was more was that he was still progressing.

"He's going to do it, Bob!" I cried excitedly.

"Getting a bit farder, sir, that's all," replied Bob. "But what I wants to know is, how are we going to get hold on his legs when he gets stuck? There won't be no reaching on 'em, as I can see."

"Hadn't yer better hail him to hold hard, and come back for us to hitch a line round one of his fins?"

"Which line would you use, messmate?" said Bob dryly. "The old 'un or the noo 'un?"

"Eh? Which on 'em?"

"Ay. Why, there arn't no line down here, is there? What yer talking about?"

"No," muttered Dumlow, thoughtfully; "there arn't no line down here, o' course. I never thought o' that. But s'pose he gets stuck fast, as he will farder on, what's to be done?"

"I d'know, without old Jarette comes and has the cargo out. Why, where's he got to!"

I was listening intently, but the whistling and rustling had ceased, and half in alarm, half hopeful that he would find a way through to where our companions were imprisoned, I strained my ears longingly for some suggestion of how far Barney could be. All at once the sound recommenced, stopped, began again, and then much nearer than I had expected there came a struggling and panting, which made my blood run cold.

"He's hitched," muttered Bob Hampton, and then in quite a low voice he cried into the opening—

"Where are you, mate?"

"Here," came back in a smothered voice.

"I knowed he would," growled Dumlow. "He's got fast, and now what's to be done?"

It was very horrible, shut down there in that close, hot place, listening to the struggles of a fellow-creature who was in such a position that wanting help he was beyond the reach of those who were eager to render it. The perspiration once more streamed down my face, and my hands trembled as I called upon myself to act in a manly way. Neither of my companions could go to Barney's help. They were, as had been proved, too bulky, and yet help must be given, and quickly too. Everything pointed to the fact that the task must fall upon me to creep forward to render aid; but when I got there in that confined place, what would my strength be toward getting the poor fellow back? All I could do would be to creep along to him and say a few words of encouragement to incite him to make a fresh effort or two to struggle free, and if that failed, stay beside him and talk of hope while the men gave the alarm, and help was brought to take off the hatches right along, and drag out cargo until the man was reached and set free.

"Ahoy, messmate!" cried Bob now. "Are you stuck fast?"

"Ay, ay."

The words sounded so stifled and strange that I knew the moment had come for me to make an effort to save him, and mastering the horrible sensation of shrinking cowardice that came over me, I drew a long, deep breath, and seized Bob Hampton to draw him aside.

"What's wrong, my lad? What is it?" he said, almost surlily. "It arn't my fault; I'd go in to pull him back, but I shouldn't get in fur 'fore I was stuck."

"No, no," I said excitedly. "Of course not."

"Then Neb had have to come, and he wouldn't get far arter me for he was stuck too. Then what would you do 'bout pulling us out all three?"

"Nothing," I said, desperately. "You must not either of you go. The time has come for me to try and save him myself."

Bob Hampton laid a hand upon my shoulder to stop me; but I thrust him back and was half into the opening when the rustling sound within increased.

"I'm coming, Blane," I said, in a loud whisper.

"No, no; don't you come," he whispered back. "I'm coming out, and there arn't room for two."

I stopped in astonishment, for I had pictured him to be hopelessly fixed and unable to move; and not only did the rustling continue, and he seemed to be approaching, but he said he was coming out.

"Rather an awkward kind o' place, sir," he said, and his voice was carried along toward me, so that it sounded as if he were whispering close to my ear. "One feels like a rat going down a pump to make a meal off the sucker, and a drink o' water after. Don't you try to come, sir."

"But I am in, Barney, I came to help you."

"Thankye, sir; but I'll talk to you when I get out. I'm coming fast now."

And he did come on so fast that in less than a minute, as I waited motionless, and with one hand extended to touch his feet when they came into reach, his face was close to mine, and I shrank back as he said—

"Here we are, sir. That's you, isn't it?"

"Yes, Barney. But you didn't go in feet first?"

"No, sir, head-first; and I come out head-first too."

I was so puzzled that I said nothing, and backed out as quickly as I could, followed by the sailor, who seated himself panting.

"Precious hot in there, sir," he said.

"But how did you manage? You said you were stuck fast," growled Bob.

"So I was, matey, for a minute or two, right at the end as far as I could go; for it got too small for me at last."

"How far did you go in?"

"Ah, that I don't know, sir. Ever so far in, till it got so as I should ha' been stuck fast if I'd gone any farther."

"Then how could you turn round?"

"It was wider and higher a little bit this side of the narrow part, and I made shift to double myself up pretty close and get round there."

"Then was it there you were stuck?" I asked.

"Yes, sir; but by a bit o' giving and taking I got round, and come out face forrard, as you see."

"I am thankful," I murmured.

"Well, if you come to that, sir, I liked it better when I'd got face outwards; for it arn't nice to feel yourself set fast in among a lot o' cargo which may shift if the ship gives a roll, and there you are, just like a blue-bottle shut in a big book, and come out next year flat and dry."

"Why, you must be a thin 'un, Barney," growled Bob. "You'd better leave the sea, and take to being first-class messenger to go up and down steam-pipes."

"Be quiet, Bob!" I said angrily. "Here, tell me, Barney," I continued; for now that the man was safe, the horror and nervousness of a terrible accident rapidly passed away.

"Tell you what, sir?"

"Is it hopeless? Is there no chance of getting to the forecastle bulk-head that way?"

"Well, sir, I can't say only that you know how far Neb Dumlow got, and then how Bob Hampton got a little farther."

"Didn't," growled Dumlow.

"Now what's the good o' you talking, messmate? because he did, just a bit farther," said Barney, in a tone full of protest. "You may just as well say I didn't go three times as far."

"Nay, I won't say that, lad."

"'Cause I did; and arter the tight nip of a bit where them two stuck, it were pretty easy, and I got along fast, though of course it's all ups and downs like. Then there's the widish bit 'tween them two big cases, where I twisted round; and after that the cargo's closer together, and nigher the beams, till it got too stiff for me, and I give it up; for I knowed that if I got stuck there, I should have to stay."

"Then there is a way on?" I said excitedly.

"Kind of a sort of a way, sir. I don't think I could ha' got along if I'd tried ever so hard, 'cause the cargo's jammed up so close to the roof; but a small sort o' man might do it, or p'r'aps I might if old Frenchy keeps me here long enough to get precious thin."

"But a boy could get along?" I said.

"Oh yes, sir, I dessay a boy could; but don't you get thinking it's a regular pipe or a passage, 'cause it arn't. It's all in and out, and over chests and cases and things as don't fit together, or has got settled down; and you have to feel all this as you go, and trust to the tips of your fingers for leading of you right. It arn't as if there was any light, you see; 'cause their ain't enough to show a mouse the way to the inside of a Dutch cheese."

"Then if any one got along there far enough, he would come to the forecastle bulk-head?" I said eagerly.

"Well, that I can't say, sir; 'cause, you see, he might find he had to creep along right under the forksle floor, and the men's bunks."

"If he got to the place where our friends are, that would not matter," I cried excitedly. "The distance must be very small."

"O' course, sir."

"But one moment, Barney. Could any of the cargo be pushed out of the way, so as to make more room?"

"No, sir, for sartain, 'cause it's all wedged together, and there's nowhere else to put it so as to make room."

"And I don't see, if one got there, that it could be a great deal of good, because they couldn't get here, and we couldn't all get there."

"They seems to think it would be some good, sir," growled Barney, "because they keeps on knocking. There they goes again."

For once more the tapping commenced, and was repeated impatiently as we did not answer.

"Give 'em the sigginals, Bob," said Dumlow, gruffly.

The tapping was answered—three taps together, two, then one, and in all manner of variations; till the others stopped, and so did we, and there was silence till Bob spoke.

"That's all very pretty," he said; "but, you see, it don't lead to nothing. They raps, and seems to say, Here we are! And then we raps, and says, So are we! And so it goes on, over and over again, till you don't know what they mean, or what you mean, or where you are. I wish we could do something to make 'em understand as we're stuck fast."

"The only way to do that is to tell them so," I cried passionately. "Even if nothing more comes of it, I feel as if it would be something to feel that you can communicate with your friends when you like. We might contrive something too, some means of escape. Yes, we must get to them, my lads."

"Then you'll have to starve down, Barney, till you're as thin as a skelington," said Bob, "and then have another try."

"All right, messmate, I'm willin'," said Barney, with a sigh. "I don't like going without my wittles, but what we gets here arn't much to lose. There you are then, Mr Dale, sir; starve me down till I'm small enough."

"No, Barney," I said firmly; "there's no need. I'm small enough already; and if you'll follow me for company as far as you can, and to help me if possible, I will go myself. I said when you were in there I'd try and help you; now you must try and help me. Will you come?"

"My hand on it, sir, if you'll shake it."

I shook it.

"I shall keep as close to you as I can, sir," said the sailor. "You won't want any telling which way to go, for there is only one way for you to get along, as you'll soon find out."

I started, and soon felt that I must be past where the two men had found it so tight a fit, though I had had no difficulty in getting along whatever, and gaining courage from the excitement, I crawled forward over the tops of rough packing-cases and between others, finding the passage uneven, and with a different level every minute. Now there would be plenty of room; but a foot or two farther I had to crawl over a case that came so close to a beam arching over from side to side of the ship that I began wondering how my companion had passed in, and as soon as I was through and into the wider space beyond, I stopped with my head turned back to speak.

"You can't get through there, can you?" I asked.

"Well, it is pretty tight, sir, but I did it afore, and I've got to do it again."

I listened to his efforts, and could make out that he was getting through inch by inch, and he kept on commenting upon his progress the while.

"Good job as one's bones give a bit, sir," he was saying, when the knocking ahead came clearly, and seemed not so very far away. "Give 'em an answer, sir; not too loud. Do it with your knuckles on something."

I was upon a case as he spoke, and I answered at once; but to my annoyance this only drew forth fresh knockings in various ways—two knocks together, then two more very quickly—a regular rat-rat—and then all kinds of variations, to which I replied as well as I could, and then left off in a pet.

"Who's going to keep on doing that?" I cried angrily. "They must wait."

"Yes," growled Barney; "I'd go on, sir. That arn't doing nobody no good."

The consequence was that I went forward slowly, with an accompaniment of taps, which kept irritating me in that hot, stifling passage—no, it is not fair to call such a place a passage, seeing that it was merely an opening formed by the settling down of the packages, or their opening out from the rolling of the ship in the storm.

I was passing along one of these latter portions with great care when a cold chill ran through me, for the thought came—suppose the ship heels over now, I shall be nipped in here and crushed to death.

But the ship did not heel over; though I did not feel comfortable till I was out of the opening, and flat once more on the top of a huge crate, between whose openings, the sharp ends of the straw used in packing it projected and scratched my face. Here I paused to listen to Barney panting and grunting as he struggled along.

"Mustn't make quite so much noise, sir," he whispered; "or some 'un uppards 'll be hearing of us."

He was more careful, and I once more went crawling laboriously, and finding on the whole so little room that I began to think I must have gone much farther than Barney had been before. And there was a strange thing connected with that creep over and amongst the cargo. Time seemed to be indefinitely prolonged. I could fancy one moment that I had been crawling and crawling for hours, and going a tremendous distance, while the next my idea was that I had hardly moved and not been there a minute. Every now and then, in spite of setting my teeth hard, and even biting my tongue, that horrible feeling of fright came back; and I have often asked myself since whether I was an awful coward. But I never could give a fair judgment, for I have thought that most people would have felt the same, whether they were lads or grown men, and certainly my three companions in talking it over said it upset them more than going in for a real fight.

It was curious, too, how busy one's brain was when I could keep from thinking of being smothered or crushed, or so fixed in that I could not get out. For then I began to think about moles burrowing underground, and worms in their holes, and rabbits and mice; and on one of these occasions I started and wondered at the peculiarity of the coincidence, for I suddenly became aware of a peculiar, half-musky smell, and then there was a scuffling, squealing sound which sent a shudder through me.

"Hear the rats, sir?" whispered Barney; but I was so upset that I couldn't reply.

All at once, as I was crawling more freely, my companion whispered—

"You ought to be close to where I turned myself round, sir. Aren't there more room?"

"Yes," I said.

"Then that's it, sir. Eh?"

"I didn't speak."

"But some one did, sir. It arn't them in the forksle, is it?"

We listened, and there was whispered, close to us apparently—

"How are you getting on?"

"It's them behind, sir. I'll lay down flat as I can, and you whisper back as we're all right. Sound travels easy."

I found that I could readily turn, and I did as he proposed that I should, hearing my voice sound so smothered that it startled me again. But the tapping was resumed; and answering it again, I turned and went on once more in silence till all at once my way was stopped by a crate which touched the beams overhead.

"Is this where you got to, Barney?" I said.

"Where there's a big crate thing, sir, as goes right up? That's it."

"Then we can't get any farther?"

"I don't think I can; but that tapping wouldn't come so plain if there warn't a way. It weer too tight for me; but you can try if you can't get round the end of the stopper. It may be big enough for you."

I would have given anything to get back now, feeling as I did that I had done enough; but I plucked up my courage, and began feeling about to make the discovery that while one end of the crate was closed solidly against the next package, the other end did not touch.

"There's a way here," I said to my companion, who was sitting up behind me, having found a place where he could let his legs go down.

"Well, sir, that's what I thought," said Barney. "But it's too small for me, arn't it?"

"Yes, far too small," I said. "I don't think I could get along. Is it any use to try?"

Tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.

That knocking came so plainly and from so near now that I at once said—

"Yes; I must get through."

"Bravo you, sir. That's your sort. Take it coolly. Where the head 'll go, the rest on you'll follow if you wiggles yerself well. Don't you get scared, sir. I'll pull you back if you get stuck."

"But it's horribly hot here, Barney," I whispered.

"Yes, sir; but I s'pose we mustn't mind that. Go it, sir, and let's get it over."

I did not need his words, for I was already trying to get round that great crate. It was, I felt, an impossible job, for I had to pass round one angle, and the heat as I wedged myself in became insufferable. But I forced myself along inch by inch till I could get my arms round the end, where to my great joy I found that I could get hold of the bars of the crate, the straw with which its contents were packed yielding enough to allow my fingers to obtain a firm grip, and with this purchase I pulled and pulled, getting myself farther and farther till I was part of the way past the angle; then more and more, till my hips checked the way for a few minutes, and I stopped short, feeling that it was all over, for I could get no farther.

Then I felt that I had done enough. It was useless fighting against the impossible, and I made up my mind to go back; but at the first movement I rucked up my jacket and trousers and literally wedged myself in, finding that I could not get back an inch, and that if I tried more I should be stuck beyond the hope of extrication.

I felt faint with the heat and horror, then a peculiar giddiness came over me; I saw lights dancing before my eyes, and my senses were fast going, when, sounding quite cool and unconcerned, Barney's voice came to me, teaching me the value of companionship at such a time as this.

"Having a rest, sir? Say when, and I'll give your feet a shove."

Just those few simple words, but they were sufficient to give me courage once more, and drive away the mists of horror.

I was myself again, tightened my grip on the stout bars of the crate, gave a spasmodic jerk, and dragged myself as I lay edgewise two or three inches along the end of the great crate.

"That wins it, sir," whispered Barney, and feeling desperate I tried again and again, the bars giving me so much assistance that I got on and on till I was lyings as I said, edgewise along the end, with my back against a large wooden case.

Then I stopped, panting with my exertion, the perspiration streaming from me, and feeling as if it would be impossible to get any farther. But all the same I was cheered by my success, and after gaining my breath I was just going to have another try when Barney whispered—

"What's ahead of you? Can you touch anything?"

I stretched out my hands as far as I could reach, and this action elongated me a trifle, so that I felt myself slipping down a little— only a few inches, but that was enough; a curious oppression of my chest followed, and to my horror I realised that the passage narrowed downwards, and my weight had carried me lower, so that now at last I felt that I was hopelessly wedged in.

For some moments the horror of my position rendered me helpless. I could not struggle, but lay as if paralysed till Barney roused me by whispering in his cheery way—

"Takin' a rest again, my lad?"

"No, no," I panted in a hopeless tone of voice; "I'm fast, Barney; I can't move."

"Oh yes, you can, sir," he replied; "take it coolly."

"But the packages on each side are holding me," I panted.

"Have another go, sir. You don't know how ingyrubbery you are till you try, sir. Take it coolly, sir, then wait your time, and you'll work yourself out just as we did. All three on us got fast."

"Yes; but there was some one to pull Bob Hampton out," I said angrily; and in this spirit I made a fierce effort after reaching up with one leg and one arm, and somehow managed to drag myself higher, so that I did not feel so much oppression at my chest. Another inch or two made me wonder why I had been so much alarmed, and in another minute I had passed the great crate, and found more room between the cargo and the beams overhead.

But I hesitated to go farther in that horrible darkness, dreading some fresh complication, and feeling that now I had reached a part where I could hear, it would be wise to go back and accept my fate of a prisoner, and see what Jarette would do, when all at once the tapping, which had been unheard for some time, recommenced, and apparently so close, that my cowardly dread passed off, and I determined to go on.

"All right now, aren't you, sir?" whispered Barney.

"Yes."

"Told you so. Only be careful, sir, I can't help you now."

I felt about a little, and then crawled forward in no narrow perpendicular crevice, but flat on my chest, between the cargo and the deck, and in less than a minute my hand touched an upright piece? of roughly-sawn wood. Then another and another, and passing my hand between them I felt board, while the next instant there was a dull jar as if some one on the other side struck the board I touched, and gave three taps. I answered directly with my knuckles, and a strange feeling of emotion made my heart palpitate as a voice came through the narrow opening between the boards.

"Is any one there?"

I placed my mouth as close to the crevice as I could in my constrained position, and chancing being heard, I cried—

"Yes."

"Who is it?" came back.

"Dale; and the three men are with me."

"Can you force off one of these boards?"

"No. Who is it?" I said.

I was almost sure when I asked the question, and my ideas were confirmed. It was Mr Brymer speaking, and he told me that Mr Preddle, Mr Frewen, and the captain were with him.

That was good news, but he had not told me all.

"Where is Miss Denning?" I asked.

"With her brother in their cabin still, I think. Now look here, Dale, we will try and pull out one of these boards, and you and the others must join us here."

I must have made his heart sink in despair the next minute, when I told him that it was impossible, and said how I had had to struggle to get to him.

"Then either you or we must get out, and the party that gets on deck must help the other. Wait a minute."

I waited, and heard the sound of boring, and a few minutes later, as I kept a hand upon the board, I felt the point of a knife or gimlet working its way through.

After it was withdrawn conversation became more easy, and I had a few words with Mr Frewen and Mr Preddle, all of which were cheering, though as far as escape was concerned it did no good. But I learned how that they had been literally thrown down there, as they supposed, for they had come-to very much as we had, to find themselves lying helpless on the floor.

We had reached this point when Barney's voice came, and it sounded anxious.

"Better come now, Mr Dale, sir," he whispered. "We can get along here again."

"Yes, I'll come soon," I whispered back, for to a certain extent I forgot my troubles in the satisfaction of having been able to reach my friends.

"Better come now, sir. They're getting scared behind yonder, and seems to me there's on'y just wind enough left for us to breathe going back. If you stop any longer there won't be none, for I shall swaller it all."

I explained what he said to me, and it was Mr Frewen who now spoke through the tiny hole.

"Yes, go back directly," he said. "Come again in a few hours' time, the air will be better again then, and we will cut this hole big enough for you to come through."

I could have wished it to have been made bigger then, so that I could get to my friends, but I knew it would be like forsaking the men I had left, so after promising to return soon—thinking nothing now of the difficulty of the journey—I said good-bye, and began to crawl back, remembering directly plenty of things I should have liked to ask.

But now I had to think of my perilous journey back, and I shuddered as I thought how nearly I had been wedged fast beside the crate. Somehow, though, now that I knew the extent of my risk, it did not seem half so bad, I reached the crate, changed from the horizontal to the perpendicular opening, kept close to the top with my head and shoulders, and let my legs go down till I could rest them on the crossbar of the crate, made my way to the end round the corner, and reached the place where Barney was anxiously waiting, and then paused for a few moments to rest, ready to wonder at the ease with which I had returned. I said something of the kind to Barney, and he laughed.

"Oh yes, sir," he said. "It's like going aloft when you're young. I remember the first time I went up to the main-topgallant mast-head, I said to myself, 'On'y let me once get down safe, and you'll never ketch me up here again;' while now one goes up and does what one has to do without thinking about it, and—Hear that?"

"Yes; what are they bumping about on the deck?"

"Dunno, sir. Sounds like getting the big boats off from over the galley. But they won't hear us, sir; let's get back to where we can have a pull at the fresh air. Will you go first?"

"No; you know the way best."

Barney chuckled.

"There arn't much queshtion of knowing the way, sir. There arn't no first turnings to the left, and second to the right. It's all go ahead, and you're sure to come out right if you don't get stuck, and I s'pose I mustn't get jammed anywhere 'cause of you."

He went on, and as I followed I could not help thinking about how terrible it would be if he did get fast, and more than once a curious sensation ran through me as he struggled on. But we had no mishap, and at last crept out to where Bob Hampton and Dumlow were waiting for us.

"You have been a long time, sir," growled the former. "Did you make anything out of it?"

"Yes, Bob, I reached the forecastle."

"You did, lad! Well done you! I allus thought you'd do something some day."

Then I told them both of all that had passed, as I lay there in that hot, dark, stifling hole, thinking though all the while how delightfully fresh and light it was. When I had finished, Bob rubbed his ear, and growled softly—

"Why, my lad," he said, "seems to me as it's like pig-shearing."

"Pig-shearing? What do you mean?"

"Much cry and little wool, sir. We've all been crawling about in the hold like rats, and got to where the t'others are—leastwise you have— and then you've come back again."

"Yes, Bob."

"Taken all that trouble for nothing."

"Well, but I have been able to talk to them, and make plans."

"Bah, sir, I don't call them plans. What was the good of us all getting smothered as we was, just to find out as we couldn't do nothing?"

"I communicated with Mr Brymer and Mr Frewen," I cried.

"And said 'How de do? I'm quite well thank you, how are you?' Didn't pay for the trouble, sir. We must do something better than that. What do you say, Neb?"

"I says as I arn't going to squeedge my carcadge into that hole again if I knows it, messmate."

"And you, Barney?"

Barney Blane uttered a low deep snore. Worn-out by his exertions, he had lain down on his back and gone to sleep at once, and ten minutes later the hot vitiated air had produced such an effect upon me that I was just as fast, and dreaming of bright sunshine and lovely tropic lands, till I was aroused by strange noise, and a sharp angry voice cried—

"Now then, all! Vite! vite! Tumble up."



CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

I was so confused by being awakened suddenly from a deep sleep, and by the light of a lantern flashing in my eyes, that for a few minutes I moved about quite mechanically, getting out of the way of my companions in misfortune, as first Barney, and then Neb Dumlow, obeyed and climbed out on deck.

"Now then, look sharp," cried the same voice, "don't keep us here all night."

"You go next, my lad," growled Bob, "and I'll give you a hyste. Take hold o' the combings and give me one leg."

I obeyed, in a sleepy stupid way—in fact, if I had been told to jump overboard I think I should have done so then—and as I grasped the combings Bob Hampton seized the leg I lifted as if I had been going to mount a horse, and jerked me right up to where I was seized by a couple of men, thrown down, and then dragged along the deck to the open gangway, where, as I awoke to the fact that there was the black sea all gleaming with yellow scintillations, I suddenly made a desperate effort to escape.

"No, no," I shouted. "Help!"

"Hold still, will you?" cried one of the men. "Now then, out with him!"

In spite of my struggles they forced me onward, holding on to my wrists the while; and speechless now in my horror, I felt that the next moment I should be plunged into the black water to drown.

Those were terrible moments, but they only were those brief spaces of time, for just as I felt that all was over, the man who had just spoken shouted—"Below there! Now then, together, mate," and they stooped as low as they could, lowering me down, and then snatched their hands away, and I fell what seemed to be a terrific distance, though it was only a few feet, before I was caught by strong arms and lowered into a boat.

"There you are, sir. Go aft."

I staggered in the direction in which I was pushed, and dropped on to a thwart, still half-stunned and confused, but sensible enough to understand the words uttered about me, and to see the dull yellow light of the lanterns held by the gangway lighting up a number of drink-flushed faces.

"I don't want chucking down, I tell you," growled Bob Hampton. "Give's a hold of a rope and I'll drop down."

"Yes, you pig," snarled Jarette, for I knew it was he now who gave orders, and now came full into sight, with the lights showing: his evil-looking face. "It's rope you want, is it? Hah, for two sous I'd have one round your neck and run you up to the yard-arm. Treacherous lying dog."

Bob Hampton was a big heavy man, but as quickly and actively as a boy he swung himself clear of the men who held him, and lowered himself down.

"Stand clear," he shouted, and the next moment he had dropped down into the boat.

"Was you talking 'bout the rope for yourself, Frenchy?—because they keep that round the yard-arm for thieves and pirates, not for honest men."

"Pig—cochon!" yelled Jarette, and there was a flash of light and a sharp report as he fired a pistol to hit the sailor, or perhaps only to frighten us, for no harm was done.

"Silence, man, don't exasperate him," whispered a voice from close by where I sat, and I knew that if I raised my hand I could have touched Mr Frewen.

"All right, sir," growled Bob, and Jarette spoke now.

"Below there," he cried. "I'm behaving better to you than you all deserve. Some men would have pitched you all overboard to drown. Now then, listen you, Captain Berriman; you can row west and get into the line the packets take, or you can row east and make the coast somewhere, if you don't get caught in a storm and go to the bottom. But that's none of my doing, I can't help that. Now then, push off before I alter my mind and have a bag of ballast pitched through the bottom of the boat. Off with you. Fasten up that gangway, my lads."

"No, no, stop," cried Mr Frewen, excitedly. "We are not all here," and I glanced round, but it was too dark to make anything out below where the light of the lanterns was cast outward in quite a straight line, well defined against the blackness below, which looked solid.

"Not all there, doctor? Oh, I forgot," said Jarette. "Wait a minute."

He turned away from the side, and we heard him give some order, which was followed a minute later by a sharp shrill cry, which went through me, and then there was a series of frantic shrieks, which seemed to pierce the dark night air. We could hear a scuffling too, and appeal after appeal approaching the side from somewhere aft.

"Silence!" snapped out Jarette, and a sharp smack was followed by a low moan.

Then in loud hysterical tones, as if a hoarse frantic woman were appealing, I heard as I sat shuddering there—

"No, no, don't, Captain Jarette. I'll work with you, and stick to you, and help you always. Don't do that."

"You—you cowardly, sneaking traitor! Who'd trust you an inch out of his sight? Over with him, lads. No, no, not there. Over with him here."

"Help! Mercy, pray! help! help!" came with frantic shrieks, for the poor fellow evidently did not know of the boat over the side. He felt that he was going to his death, and then he was evidently clinging to something, for there was a pause, and in a hoarse yell we heard him cry—

"Don't kill me, Jarette, and I'll tell you where the money-chests are stowed."

"You? Why, I know. Over with him!" cried Jarette, and then, uttering shrieks that horrified us, we saw Walters for a moment above the bulwarks in the full light of the lanterns, and then he was pitched outwards, shrieking as he fell, a loud splash and a gurgling noise, which ceased suddenly, telling us where he had gone down.

The boat was pushed along in the darkness, and without an order being given.

"See him?" said Mr Brymer, in a hurried whisper.

"No, sir, not yet," growled Bob Hampton.

Almost at that moment there was a wild shriek for help just by the boat's side, and Dumlow growled out—

"I got him."

Then came a splashing and a repetition of the cry for help, but this time from the bottom of the boat.

"What has he done wrong?" said Bob Hampton. "Want us to chuck you in again?"

"Oh, help!" cried Walters piteously.

"What, have you took him aboard?" said a sneering voice overhead. "Better let him drown. He isn't worth the biscuit and water he'll want."

"Oh, only wait!" cried Walters, rising up to his knees.

"Wait," snarled Jarette. "Yes, you cur, I will with one of the shot-guns if you ever come near my ship again. And you, Berriman, and you, Brymer, take my warning; I've given you your chance, so take it. If you hang about near here I'll have the signal-gun loaded and sink you, so be out of sight by daylight. Now push off before you get something thrown over to go through the bottom of the boat."

There was a low whispering close by me, and then I could just make out the doctor's figure as he stood up.

"Stop," he shouted. "Mr Jarette, we are not all here."

"What? Why, who is left behind?"

"Mr Denning."

"The sick passenger?"

"And his sister, sir."

"Oh yes, I know, board."

"No, sir, they must come with us. I warn you that Mr Denning's health is such that he must have medical attendance."

"Oh, I see," cried Jarette, with a sneering laugh. "You are afraid of missing your job. There, cure the captain. One patient is enough in an open boat."

"If anything happens to him, sir, you will have to answer for his life."

"You are stupid," sneered Jarette. "You wish to trap me. It would kill the patient to keep him with you, exposed in an open boat. No, Monsieur le docteur, I am too wise—too much of the fox, le renard—to be trapped like that. Push off."

"No, no, sir," cried Mr Frewen; "for mercy's sake, sir, let Mr Denning and his sister be lowered down to us."

"But they do not wish to come, monsieur."

"I will not argue with you, sir, or contradict. You hold the power. I only say, for mercy's sake let that poor suffering invalid and his sister come. We will then push off and leave you to your prize."

Jarette was resting his arms on the bulwark, gazing down at us, no doubt maliciously, but the lights were behind him and at his side, so that his features were in the dark, and as I looked up I could not help thinking how easily any one might have shot him dead and thrown him overboard. But I shuddered at this horrible idea as it flashed through my head, and waited for him to speak.

Mr Frewen waited too, but he remained silent, only making a slight movement as if to pass one arm over the bulwarks, though from where I sat I could not quite make out his act.

"You heard me, Jarette?" said Mr Frewen, after this painful pause. "You will let your people help Mr Denning and his sister down?"

Still the man did not answer, but appeared to be staring hard at the doctor.

"Mr Jarette."

"Captain Jarette, doctor. There, you see what a merciful man I am. You do not know that I have been taking aim at you right between the eyes for the last five minutes, and could at any moment have sent a bullet through your head."

"Yes, sir," said the doctor, calmly; "yes, Captain Jarette, I knew that you were aiming at me."

"Then why did you not flinch and ask for mercy!"

"Because I am accustomed to look death in the face, sir, when I am doing my duty, I am doing it now. Mr Denning's life is in danger. Come, sir, you will let him and his sister join us?"

"In an open boat? No."

"Mr Jarette."

"Captain Jarette, doctor," cried the man, angrily. "Now all of you row and take this mad fellow away, before I am tempted to shoot him."

Bob Hampton uttered a low growling sound as he sought in the darkness for the boat-hook, stood up, and began to thrust the boat from the ship's side.

"No; stop," cried Mr Frewen, fiercely, "we cannot desert the Dennings like this. Ahoy!—on board there! Mr Denning, where are you?"

"Here," came from one of the cabin-windows aft.

"Row beneath that window," cried the doctor, and the boat was not rowed but dragged slowly there by Bob Hampton, who kept hooking on by the main and mizzen-chains.

"Keep off!" roared Jarette fiercely. "Do you hear? Keep off, or I fire."

But Bob Hampton paid no heed to his orders till the boat was beneath one of the round cabin-windows, and then he thrust the boat about six feet from the ship.

He had a reason for so doing, and he had hardly steadied the boat when, in obedience to an order from Jarette, something tremendously heavy was thrown over the side, and fell with a loud splash between us and the ship, deluging us with the shower it raised, and making the boat rock.

But Mr Frewen paid no heed to that which would have driven a hole through the bottom of the boat, perhaps killed one of its occupants at the same moment.

"Are you there, Denning?" he said, in a quick whisper.

"Yes."

"Quick, run with your sister to the stern-windows and jump out. For heaven's sake don't hesitate. We can pick you up."

"Ay, ay," growled Bob Hampton.

"Impossible! We are both fastened in," said Mr Denning.

"Can you pass through that window?"

"No. Save yourselves; you cannot help us now."

"Over with it, my lads. Well out."

We could not see what was heaved over the side, but something else, probably a piece of pig-iron, was thrown over, and fell with a heavier splash, making the phosphorescent water flash and sparkle, so that I could see the light dancing in the darkness for far enough down.

Jarette's savage design was again frustrated, and in spite of our terrible danger no one among us stirred or said a word about the risk.

"Do you hear?" cried Mr Denning, from the cabin-light. "Save yourself; the wretch will sink the boat."

"I cannot go and leave you and your sister in this man's power."

"It is madness to stay. You have done all that is possible. Captain Berriman, order your men to row you out of danger."

"I am not in command," said the captain feebly.

"Mr Brymer, then," cried Mr Denning. "Quick, they are dragging up something else to throw over."

"I should not be a man, sir, if I ordered the men in cold blood to leave you and your sister," said Mr Brymer huskily.

"But you are risking other lives. Mr Frewen," cried the young man, "I wish it; my sister wishes it. You must—you shall go."

Mr Frewen uttered a strange kind of laugh.

"If I told the men to row away, sir, I do not believe they would go," he replied. "Answer for yourselves, my lads; would you go?"

"'Bout two foot farder," growled Bob, "so as they couldn't hit us; that's 'bout all."

"But you can do no good," said Mr Denning. "Lena, my child, they have been very brave, and done everything they could; tell them to go now; it is to save their lives."

"Don't—don't, Miss Denning," I shouted, for I could bear it no longer. "There isn't anybody here but Nic Walters who would be such a cur."

I said the words passionately, feeling a kind of exaltation come over me, and everything was in the most unstudied way, or I should not have said it at all.

The words were not without their effect, for they stung Walters to the quick. The moment before he had been lying shivering in the bottom of the boat, but as I spoke he sprang up and cried in a high-pitched, hysterical voice that might have been Mr Preddle's—

"It isn't true, Miss Denning. I've been a treacherous coward and a beast, but I'd sooner die now than leave you to come to harm."

"A pity you didn't, my lad, before you betrayed us as you did," said Mr Brymer, in a deep-toned voice.

"Ah, yes. Words are no use now," said the captain slowly.

"No! No use now—no use now," cried Walters wildly. "It is too late, too late," and before any one could grasp what he was about to do, he leaped over the side into the black water.

But not to drown, for the scintillations of the tiny creatures disturbed by his plunge showed exactly where he was, and Bob Hampton only had to lower the boat-hook and thrust it right down as a wild cry came from the cabin overhead. The next minute he had caught the wretched, half-distraught fellow, and dragged him to the surface, where Neb Dumlow seized him and snatched him over the side to let him fall into the bottom of the boat, and thrust his foot upon him to keep him down.

"Want to doctor him, sir?" then said Dumlow gruffly.

But there was no answer, for our attention was taken up by a savage burst of rage from Jarette, who fired at us unmistakably this time, and a sharp cry came from one of the occupants of the boat.

"I warned you," cried Jarette. "Now row for your lives."

"Yes, in heaven's name, go," cried Mr Denning, "you are only adding to our agony."

"No," cried Mr Frewen, "I will not give up. Brymer—my lads, you will fol—"

"Hush," said Mr Brymer, as there was another flash and a report from Jarette's pistol. "Of course we will follow, but not now. It would be madness. Wait, man! We will not go far. Use your oars, my lads."

"No, no, I forbid it," cried Mr Frewen wildly, "and I call upon you men to help me board this ship."

"You are not in command here, sir," said Mr Brymer sternly. "Take your place. Now, my lads, oars, and give way."

There was another shot from the deck, and one of the men uttered an exclamation as the blades were thrust over the side, dipped, and seemed to lift golden water at every stroke.

"Good-bye, and God bless you!" came from the cabin-window, and directly after the same words were spoken by Miss Denning, and I heard Mr Frewen utter a groan.

Another shot came from the ship, whose lanterns showed where she lay, while, but for the golden oil the oars stirred on the surface of the water, our boat must have been invisible, though that bullet was sufficiently well aimed to strike the side of the boat with a sharp crack.

"That will do. In oars!" cried Mr Brymer, when we were about a hundred yards away.

"How can you be such a coward?" I heard Mr Frewen whisper passionately.

"No coward, sir," replied the mate. "I am ready to risk my life in trying, as is my duty, to save those two passengers from harm, but it must be done with guile. It is madness for unarmed men to try and climb up that ship just to be thrown back into the sea."

"Then you will not row right away?" said Mr Frewen, excitedly.

"And leave the ship in the hands of that scoundrel? Is it likely?"

"I beg your pardon, Brymer," whispered Mr Frewen, "I did not know what I was saying. I was half mad."

"My dear fellow, I know," was the mate's reply in the same tone. "I'm not going to give up, nor yet despair. There's always a chance for us. That scoundrel may come to his end from a quarrel with one of his men; a ship may heave in sight; or we may board and surprise them, and if we do, may I be forgiven, but I'll crush the life out of that wretch as I would destroy a tiger. Now just leave me to do my duty, and do yours."

"What can I do?" replied Mr Frewen. "You do not want me to row away?"

"No; but I do wish you to attend to our wounded."

"Ah! I had forgotten that," said Mr Frewen, hastily bestirring himself. "Here, some one cried out when one of those shots was fired, and again I heard an exclamation just now."

"It was Walters who was hit first," I said, from where I knelt in the bottom of the boat.

"Where is he? Somewhere forward?"

"No; here," I said.

"Has any one matches? It is impossible to see," muttered Mr Frewen.

"He is hit in the chest, sir," I said.

"How do you know?" cried Mr Frewen. "Is this your hand, my lad? What are you doing?"

"Holding my neckerchief against his side to stop the bleeding," I said in a low voice.

"Hah!"

It was only like a loud expiration of the breath, as Mr Frewen knelt down beside me, and cutting away Walters' jacket he quickly examined the wound by touch, and I then heard him tear my neckerchief and then one of his own pocket-handkerchiefs.

"Your hand here. Now your finger here, my lad," he whispered to me. "Don't be squeamish. Think that you are trying to save another's life."

"I shan't faint," I said quietly. "It doesn't even make me feel sick."

"That's right, my boy. Now hold that end while I pass the bandage round his chest."

I obeyed, and there was dead silence in the boat as the doctor busied himself over his patient.

"Is he insensible, sir?" I whispered; "really insensible?"

"Yes, and no wonder."

"Is it a very bad wound?"

"Yes; bad enough. The bullet has passed through or else round one of the ribs. It is nearly out on the other side; I could feel it, but it must stay till daylight. That's it.—I've plugged the wound. He cannot bleed now. Thank you, Dale."

"What for, sir?" I said innocently enough.

He did not answer, but busied himself laying Walters down, and then the lad was so silent that a horrible feeling of dread began to trouble me. I was brought back to other thoughts, though, by the doctor's speaking out of the darkness.

"Who else was hurt?" he said.

"Neb Dumlow's got a hole in him somewheres, sir," said Barney.

"Wish you'd keep that tongue o' yourn quiet, Barney," growled Dumlow. "Who said he'd got a hole in him, my lad?"

"Why, you did," cried Barney, "and I knowed it without. Didn't I hear you squeak?"

"Well, only just then. It was sharp for a moment, but it's better now."

"Let me pass you, my man," said the doctor quietly.

"There you are, sir. This way. Neb's on the next thwart."

"You needn't come to me, sir," protested Dumlow. "I'm all light, I tied a bit o' line round the place. You can give me a pill or a shedlicks powder or something o' that kind to-morrow if you like."

"Hold your tongue, Neb, and let the doctor tie you up," growled Bob Hampton. "What's the use of being so jolly independent? Don't you take no notice o' what he says, sir. Dessay he's got a reeg'lar hole in him."

"Tut tut tut!" muttered Mr Frewen. "What is this,—fishing-line?"

"That's it, sir," said Dumlow. "It's right enough, there arn't no knobs on it, and it stopped the bleeding fine."

"Difficult work here, Dale," Mr Frewen whispered to me. "One need have well-educated fingers—what surgeons call the tactus eruditus—to work like this in the dark."

"Terrible," I replied, and I noticed how his voice trembled. For he seemed to me to be doing everything he could to keep himself from dwelling upon those we had left in the ship.

"Hurt you, my man?" he said to Dumlow.

"Oh, it tingles a bit, sir; but here, stop, hold hard a minute. None o' them games."

"What games? I don't understand you."

"No takin' advantage of a poor helpless fellow as trusts yer, doctor!"

"Explain yourself, man."

"Explain myself, sir? How?"

"Tell me what you mean."

"I mean, I want you to tell me what you mean, sir."

"To dress your wound."

"Ay, but you're a-doing of something with that 'ere other hand."

"No, my man, no."

"Arn't got a knife in't then?"

"Certainly not. Why?"

"Dumlow thinks you were going to cut his leg off, sir," I said, feeling amused in spite of our terrible position.

"Course I did," growled the man. "I've been telled as there's nothing a doctor likes better than to have a chance o' chopping off a man's legs or wings, and I don't mean to go hoppin' about on one leg and a timber toe, and so I tells yer flat."

"I'm not going to cut your leg off, Dumlow."

"Honour, sir?"

"Honour, my man."

"Honour bright, sir?"

"On my word as a gentleman."

"Thankye, sir, but if it's all the same to you, I'd rather as you said honour bright."

"Well then, honour bright. There, I am not going to do any more to you now; I must dress the wound by daylight."

"Won't bleed any more, sir, will it?"

"Not now."

"That'll 'bout do then, sir, thank ye kindly."

"You are welcome, my man," said the doctor, and then, "What is it?" for I had grasped his arm.

"I want you to tell me about Walters," I whispered. "Feel his pulse first."

He turned from me and bent down over my messmate, who lay in the bottom of the boat perfectly motionless.

I could not see what he did, but listened attentively, not for the sake of hearing his movements, but so as to hear a sigh or moan from that unhappy lad.

"Well?" I said excitedly.

"I can tell you nothing yet," said Mr Frewen, as I thought, evasively.

"He—he is not dead?" I gasped; and I fell a-trembling with horror at the idea of one whom I had known vigorous and strong so short a time before, lying there at my feet, robbed of the power of making any reparation for the crime he had so weakly committed, and with no chance for repentance.

"I—I say, he is not dead, is he?"

I spoke fiercely, for Mr Frewen had not replied; and now I caught and held on by his hand.

He quite started, and turned upon me.

"I—I beg your pardon, Dale," he cried. "I was thinking of something else—of those on board that unfortunate ship. It seems so cowardly to leave them to their fate."

"How could we help it, Mr Frewen? What could we do? But tell me about Walters."

"Yes," he said, drawing a long breath, as if he were making an effort to keep his mind fixed upon the present—"yes, I'll tell you."

"Then he is dead?" I whispered, with a shudder; and as I looked down into the bottom of the boat, where all was perfectly black, I seemed to see the white face of the lad quite plainly, with his fixed eyes gazing straight at me, full of appeal, and as if asking forgiveness for the past.

"No, not dead, Dale," said Mr Frewen in a low voice. "Be quiet. Don't talk about it. We have quite enough to depress us without that. I can say nothing for certain in this black darkness, and he may recover."

"Is the wound so very bad?" I asked.

"Dangerous enough, as far as I can tell; but he has everything against him, my lad."

"But if he dies?" I exclaimed in horror.

"Well?" said Mr Frewen bitterly. "If he were a man, I should say it were the best thing that could happen. He has as a young officer hopelessly dishonoured himself. He can only be looked upon as a criminal."

I could not argue with him, and relapsed into silence, thinking the while of the horror of my messmate's condition, and asking myself whether it would not have been possible for him to redeem the past, and grow up into a straightforward, honourable man.

It was a hard matter to mentally discuss, but as I sat in the darkness that night, with hardly a word spoken by my companions, I forgot all Walters' bitterness and dislike, and only thought of his being young and strong like myself; and that he had those at home who would be heart-broken if they heard of his death, and would feel his disgrace as bitterly as he must have felt it himself, when all came to be known.

"I won't think it was his nature," I said to myself. "It was a piece of mad folly. He was won over by that brute of a Frenchman, who, now that he has obtained all he wants, throws over the tool he used, and ends by shooting him. Poor fellow! how could he be such a fool?"

I sat on, thinking how bitterly he would have repented his folly, and how his last days must have been spent in the keenest of regret. And it was in this spirit that I bent down over him, to thrust my hand in his breast to feel for the beating of his heart.

"Mr Frewen," I whispered as I rose, "tell me how you think he is now."

The doctor bent down, and after a little examination, rose again.

"There is no difference which I can detect," he said gravely.

"But you will—you will—"

"Will what, Dale?" he said, for I had paused.

"You will not treat him as if—as if he were a criminal?"

"How can I help it? He is one. We have him to thank for our position here, for those two people being left on the ship, at the mercy of those scoundrels."

His whole manner changed as he said this, and his voice sounded full of fierce anger.

"Yes," I faltered, "that's all true; but you will not be revengeful?"

"A doctor revengeful, Dale?" he said quickly.

"I don't mean that," I said. "I mean, you will do your best to save his life?"

"For him to be punished by the law?"

"I was not thinking of that," I said hastily. "I mean, that you will do all you can to cure him, Mr Frewen?"

"Why, of course, my lad—of course. Am I not a doctor? I am neither prosecutor nor judge. You have curious ideas about my profession."

"I could not help it, Mr Frewen," I pleaded. "It is only that I am so anxious for him to recover."

"And do you another ill turn, Dale—betray us once more!"

"No, no, it isn't that." I cried; "it is only that I should like him to live and be sorry for all this. I believe, after what has taken place to-night, he would be only too glad to come over to our side, and fight for us."

"Perhaps so, if he were well enough; but who would ever dream of trusting him again?"

I was silent, thinking as I was how terrible was the slip my messmate had made, and seeing now clearly how it must take years for him to climb back to the position he held when we left the London Docks.

"There," said Mr Frewen at last, "you need not be afraid, Dale. I shall treat him as I would any other patient. A medical man has but one aim when he treats a sick person, a surgeon one who is injured—to make the sufferer well again. That is my duty here, and I shall do it to the best of my ability."