"Oh, what a shame!" cried Sydney.

"What's the matter?"

"Terry's going in the barge to land the stores."

"And who's going in the second cutter?" said Roylance.

"I don't know; I didn't hear. I did hope they'd order me to go in the barge."

"Why, what a cocky chap you are, Belt! You've had no experience at all."

"I know that, but I want to get it, and I can't learn to take charge of a boat unless they send me. Who's going in the second cutter?"

"I am."

"You? Oh, how lucky you fellows are!"

"I don't think there'll be much luck in it, for the heat will be terrible, and I don't suppose we shall have been there very long before we wish ourselves back on board."

"Oh, I don't know."

"But I do. Think of the work of getting those guns and things up to the top."

"But I thought the party who were going to stay would do that?"

"Of course: that's it. The barge is coming back on board as soon as she has landed her stores, and the second cutter to-night."

"Well, then you'll only have all day."

"Nonsense; I'm going to stop."

"Oh! You're as lucky as Terry."

"Yes, but I wish he was coming back. Not a pleasant messmate to have ashore with me. I'm sure you wouldn't like to be along with him."

"Perhaps not; but I did want to come, for I know so much about the rock.—Oh! I did want to go."

"Better stop on board, lad. I dare say we shall have a good deal of trouble with the men, though they do like Mr Dallas."

"Oh, but I shouldn't mind that," said Syd, thoughtfully. "I say."

"Well."

"Couldn't you manage to smuggle me off in your boat?"

"I could; but look here, you are the captain's son. Go and ask leave to go, even if you have to come back in the boats."

"Oh, yes; I'm the captain's son," said Sydney, bitterly; "and that's the very reason why I should not be allowed."

"What, for fear you should be eaten up by the shark this time?"

"Joke away; you're all right," said Syd, sulkily.

"Don't take it like that, Belton, old fellow," said Roylance, laying his hand upon his arm. "I'd a hundred times rather have you than Terry. I say, look! here's the first luff. I know he likes us fellows to be eager to learn our profession. Go and ask him to let you go."

"Shall I?" said Syd, hesitatingly.

"Yes; go along. He seems always harsh and rough with everybody, but he isn't a bad one when you come to know him."

"But he's busy now."

"Never mind; go on."

It seemed a very simple thing to do to go up to the officer, touch your hat, and ask leave to go with the boats, but there was that peculiar something so hard to get over which keeps lads back from proffering a petition, and saves their elders and those in authority very often the pain of having to refuse.

Syd suffered severely on that occasion from this peculiar form of timidity, till he saw one boat manned and pull off with its load.

In another quarter of an hour the other would be ready, he knew, and then his chance would be gone.

The first lieutenant passed along the deck, and Syd thought he looked very severe. He came back, and he looked worse. It was impossible to ask him, and Syd shrank away and went to where Roylance was busy speaking to the coxswain of his boat.

"I say," whispered Syd, taking him by the sleeve.

"Yes."

"Ask the luff to let me go with you, there's a good fellow."

Roylance gave him a merry look.

"Well, you are a queer one, Belt," he said. "Not afraid to stand up before Mike Terry, and yet daren't go and ask the luff to let you go ashore."

"I'm not exactly afraid," said Syd.

"But you daren't go."

"Yes, I dare," he said; and he went up boldly now.

"Beg pardon, sir," he said, touching his hat.

"Eh? Yes, Mr Belton; what is it?"

"May I go with the second cutter, sir?"

"You? Mr Roylance is going."

"Yes, sir. I wanted to go too."

"Like to take Mr Jenkins as well as Mr Bolton for a good game?"

"Yes, sir; very much," said Syd, eagerly, in astonishment that the severe officer was so amiable.

"Humph! of course. Look here, Mr Belton, do you know what the old proverb says?"

"About idleness, sir?"

"No, not that one. This:—A boy is a boy."

"Yes, sir."

"Two boys are half a boy."

"Yes, sir."

"And three boys are no boy at all. I want some work done, so I send one boy with each boat. Hi! bo'sun; better take another breaker of water; you may not find any, and we do not want to communicate for some hours."

"Ay, ay, sir," cried Strake, and he busied himself about the order.

"Got your arms all right, and plenty of ammunition?"

"Yes, sir," said Roylance.

"May I go, sir?" said Syd, tentatively.

But the lieutenant did not appear to have heard him, and stood giving order after order to the officer and the boat's crew, asking endless questions about the stores they had on board.

"And I should so like to have gone," thought Syd, as he gazed longingly at the rock, standing up grey and brown and green against the deep blue sea, whose waters washed with creamy foam the bottom of the huge mass of stone.

He turned with a sigh to watch the first lieutenant, who was now busily talking to Lieutenant Dallas and Roylance, and Syd knew that in another minute or two the boat, would be pushed off, when the boatswain came up behind him.

"Aren't you going with us, Master Syd?"

"No, Barney," he replied, sadly; "I'm not going."

"Why don't yer ask the luff to let yer go, sir? Be a bit of a change."

"I did ask him, Barney."

"And did he say you warn't to go, sir?"

"No; he seemed as if he wouldn't answer me."

"Didn't say downright as you shouldn't go?"

"No."

"Well, sir, you're a young gent, and the capen's son, and course I wouldn't tell yer to do nothin' wrong; but in the old days when we was goin' to cut out ships from under the guns of a fort, or to land and upset some town, the young gents used to smuggle theirselves into the boat and get down among the men's legs, and the skipper and the luff wouldn't see 'em."

"Wouldn't see them—why?"

"'Cause bein' very young gents they wouldn't send 'em or give 'em leave to go 'cause o' the danger, but they liked 'em to go all the same, 'cause it showed they'd got sperret in 'em."

"Barney!" whispered Syd, looking at the bo'sun searchingly.

"No, sir; I won't say go," was whispered back. "You can't 'spect it. But—"

Syd's eyes sparkled and he gave a cautious look round to see that the captain was on the quarter-deck, and that the first lieutenant had his back to him and was energetically insisting upon something to Roylance.

The next moment Syd was over the side, and down amongst the crew.

"Hide me somewhere, lads," he whispered eagerly. There was a laugh.

"Arn't you scared about meeting Jack Shark again, sir?" said one of the men.

"Hold your row, Jim," said another. "This way, sir." There was a little scuffling about, and the next minute, half fearing that he was playing ostrich and had only concealed his head, Syd was listening. He had hardly ceased moving when he heard the first lieutenant saying something to Lieutenant Dallas, who was evidently descending the side.

"I wouldn't depend too much on that tackle. The guns are very heavy. Now, Mr Roylance; in with you."

"Ay, ay, sir," came in peculiar tones; and Syd felt disgusted that he should not have been able to come down into the boat in the same way, instead of sneaking in like a rat.

"Seems to be a good deal of swell on amongst these little rocks," said the first lieutenant. "You'll land at the other place."

"Oh, yes," said the second lieutenant; and from where he lay Syd could just get a glimpse of him as he stood up in the stern-sheets.

"He must have seen me," he thought; and looking upwards, there right over the side, and quite plainly to be seen, were the head and shoulders of the first lieutenant gazing down into the boat.

Perfectly certain now that he should be shouted at for trying to get off in the boat, Sydney lay perfectly still, waiting for the unpleasant order; but oddly enough thinking at the same time that ignominious as it would be to crawl up the ladder and climb on board, he should be spared one pain—Terry would not be there to sneer at him.

"Might have been worse," he thought, as he gathered himself together, ready to spring out and get the trouble over.

But the order did not come, and he only heard a growling sound as the boatswain said something to one of the men.

"They're waiting for something," thought Syd, as a low talking arose on deck; and he heard a voice reply which he knew was his father's, and the blood flushed to his cheeks.

"Give way, my lads!" came at last, and Syd exultantly exclaimed to himself, as the tension was taken off—

"He didn't see me," and he heard the oars splash, and felt that the boat was gliding through the water.

But Sydney was not quite right, for as soon as the boat had put off, the first lieutenant went aft to where the captain was standing, examining the rock.

"Well, Mr Bracy," he said, as he closed the glass with a snap.

"I thought I'd tell you, sir, that Mr Belton came and asked leave to go in the last boat."

"Did you give him permission?"

"No, sir."

"That's right."

"But—"

"Eh?" said Captain Belton, raising his eyebrows; "he has taken French leave and gone?"

"Yes; he was stowed away there amidships."

"And you forbade his going?" said the captain, frowning.

"Oh, no, I did not forbid him, sir."

"Well, well, Mr Bracy; we were boys once," said the captain, smiling.

"Yes, sir, I'm afraid I did the same."

"And I more than twice, Bracy. One must be a little blind sometimes with a boy of spirit. Bit of change for him. How is he getting on?"

"Capitally. Full of promise."

"Then I hope he will perform. By the way, there was one thing I did not mention to you—a spar for a flagstaff. I should like them to be able to hoist the colours when anything comes in sight."

"I thought of it, sir. They have everything I could think of, and at a pinch ought to be able to hold out for three months."

"I don't think the pinch will come, Bracy.—Ah, they are getting close in."

"Yes," said the lieutenant, shading his eyes. "First boat is landing her additional stores. One comfort at this time of year, there is no fear of rain, so that they need not trouble much about getting covered in to-night."

"No," said the captain, thoughtfully, "but I hope Mr Dallas will get everything covered in all the same."

They were following the second boat, as it rose and fell on the mirror-like surface of the water, till she was cleverly run alongside the rocks, when the captain opened his glass once more, and stood watching—the first lieutenant seeing a smile come over his stern features, and rightly interpreting that he was gazing at his son more than the actions of the men, who were quickly landing the additional stores that they had taken to the rock; the tackle previously rigged up being lowered again and again, and the cases and kegs cleverly swung ashore, the men dipping their oars at the word of command, and every time a box was swung up the boat was drawn out of danger, ready to be backed in when the tackle was once more lowered down.

"Yes," said the captain, thoughtfully, "I have no doubt that Mr Dallas will prove himself most able in this business. Weather seems settled down, Bracy."

"Yes, sir; but you know what it is in these latitudes. A smile one minute and a kick the next, and when it does rain—well, it's a good job it doesn't last, for we don't want another flood."

The captain went on pacing the quarter-deck, looking very cold and stern, but with a glow about his heart.

"He'll make a smart officer," he said to himself,—"one of whom we shall be proud. I'll write and tell Tom about this. How he will chuckle and enjoy it! But I suppose I must lecture the young dog when he comes on board to-night. Discipline must be maintained."

That evening, after the men had been busily helping, the barge came back and was hoisted on board. The captain walked on deck, but recollected that it was in the second cutter that Syd had gone, and he went back to his cabin.

Just at sundown the second boat returned with the coxswain and crew, and she was hoisted up.

"Humph!" said the captain to himself, as he heard the squeaking sound made by the falls, "I will not send for him to-night; I'll have a few words with him in the morning. Let me see, I'll send word to him by Strake. Bah! how absurd. The bo'sun has gone ashore to help putting up the tackle for hoisting the guns."

In the course of the evening, when the stars were blazing overhead, and the rock was invisible in the soft, transparent darkness of the night, the captain was walking up and down, when he encountered the first lieutenant, and they compared notes about the beauty of the night, and how advantageous it was for the unhoused men ashore.

"By the way, Bracy," said the captain, "have you reproved Mr Belton? because, if not, leave it to me."

"Oh, certainly, sir; but of course I have not had a chance."

"What do you mean?"

"I supposed that he had only gone ashore for the day, and would come back with the last boat."

"Well, hasn't he?"

"No, sir; he has stopped ashore."



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

That was a busy day on the rock, which was in places so hot to their bare feet that the men laughed as they stepped gingerly about.

"I say, mate," said one of them in the intervals of hauling up a case, and just as he had noted that Syd was close by, "d'yer know what's for dinner to-day?"

"Ay, lad; cold junk and biscuit."

"Better than that, messmate; on'y it wants the young gen'leman to set to work and ketch some shrimps for sarce."

"What d'yer mean, lad?"

"Fried soles, lad, fried soles," said the other. "Mine's 'most done brown."

Syd was not supposed to be on duty, but he was so much interested in the whole affair that he was as busy as any one, and it was while he was high up on the rock, looking on at the rigging up of a couple of spars, crane-fashion, for hoisting the stores, that he came across the lieutenant, who gave him a peculiar look and a smile, and then went on giving a few orders before going higher to re-inspect the chasm, prior to getting the stores and light things in there.

"Couldn't see yer, Master Syd," whispered the boatswain. "'Stonishing how invisible young gents is sometimes."

But there was little time for talking. Work was the order of the day, and so clever were the contrivances for hoisting, and so well did the men work, that by sundown all the light things were under cover in the chasm, and only the guns, barrels, and heavy cases down by the natural pier. These latter were covered in turn, and made fast with pieces of rock piled upon the edge of the tarpaulins, after which the men of the barge embarked and went back to the ship, the crew of the second cutter following, and the garrison being gathered in their new quarters, high up in the cleft of the great rock, for a hearty meal, to which Sydney came down from the bare fork of the cleft, ravenously hungry, and at once fell to.

He was partaking of his portion with eager zest, when Roylance, who had been busy below seeing to the covering of the barrels, came up.

"Why, Belt," he said, in a whisper; "not gone back?"

"No," said Syd, laconically.

"But I thought you'd gone back in the second cutter."

"No," said Syd, with his mouth full; "I did mean to, but I've been exploring, and when I came back the boat was gone."

"What are you doing here?" said a sharp voice.

"Eating," said Syd, without looking up.

"Don't be insolent, sir. I am one of the officers of this expedition, and on duty. You have no business here."

"Look here, Terry," said Syd, eating away in the most nonchalant fashion; "I'm hungry, and don't want to leave off and spoil my dinner. I don't want to quarrel to-night."

"This is insufferable," cried Terry, who felt clothed in authority as second officer of the expedition, and striding away, he found out the lieutenant, and stated what he had seen.

"He had no business here, Mr Terry," said the lieutenant, quietly; "but of course we can do nothing to-night."

"If we signalled for a boat, sir?"

"One would come and fetch him off, but would create unnecessary alarm. And look here, Mr Terry, is it not time you forgot old sores, and became good friends with your messmates?"

"I don't understand you, sir," said Terry, haughtily. "Then I'll try and be plainer," said the lieutenant, rather sharply. "Don't you think it is a pity that you should let your enmity to Mr Belton make you jump at a chance to do him a bad turn?"

"I came here, sir, to do my duty, and I reported misconduct on the part of one of the midshipmen."

"Who once gave you a good thrashing, Mr Terry, for playing the bully. There, there, my good lad, forget and forgive, and don't try and usurp my duties here. I will look after Mr Belton."

"Such confounded favouritism to the captain's son!" muttered Terry; but it was loud enough for the lieutenant to hear, and he exclaimed, hotly—

"And if you dare to say such a thing as that again, sir, I'll clap you under arrest, and put Mr Belton in your place." Terry slunk off and stood about sulking till the men had finished, and were then set to work to make a temporary shelter for the night, which was quickly done by tying the edges of the sails they had brought to some spars, and resting these against the perpendicular side of the rock in the cleft, thus forming a lean-to, which was spacious enough to cover the men and the stores and ammunition already protected by the tarpaulins thrown over them.

Roylance and Syd were standing together in the darkness, watching the men arranging the spars and hauling the canvas tight, when Syd laid his hand upon his companion's arm.

"Don't speak or move," he whispered; "but look down to the right. There's some wild beast crawling up from the west end of the gap."

Roylance gripped Syd's hand to indicate that he saw the creature, and they remained silent, watching it creeping nearer and nearer, till it reached the spot where the men had been making their meal, and there it seemed to pause for a few minutes before returning the way it came.

It was so dark that its motions were more those of a shadow than of some living creature, and at last it seemed quite to die away among some loose rocks, just where the gap ended in a precipice.

"Gone," said Sydney, drawing a long breath; "why, it was after the provisions."

"Evidently. I couldn't have thought that there were any live creatures here."

"Looked like a great monkey."

"Well, I thought so once—an ape, but it couldn't have been."

"I say," whispered Syd; "was it a man, and they're going to play some prank on us from the ship to see if we are on the look-out?"

"What's that?" said a voice behind them, and the two lads started to find that the lieutenant had come up to them unawares while they were talking earnestly.

"We just saw something come up from that end of the gap, sir," said Syd; "it was like a monkey."

"And Mr Belton here fancies it might be a spy from the Sirius to see if we were on the watch," said Roylance.

"Impossible! they would not play us such a trick. Stop, it might be from the enemy—a boat landing men to see what we are about. But where?" he said, excitedly. "They couldn't have landed where we did, because there are two men on the watch, and I don't think there is any other place. Let's see."

Orders were given, the men seized their arms, and after a few admonitory words had been whispered, a search commenced, anything but an adequate one, for the task was one of risk, and the men had to proceed with the greatest caution, so as not to make a false step and go over the side, either into the sea or down one of the cracks and rifts into which the rock was cleft.

This went on for a couple of hours, during which the men on the watch were certain that no one had landed, and at last the weary sailors felt ready to endorse the remark of Terry, which somehow became spread among them, that it was only a trick of the captain's son to set them on the alert.

At last this came to the lieutenant's ears, and he called Syd and Roylance aside.

"Was this some prank?" he said, sternly.

"I would not be guilty of such a trick, sir," said Syd, warmly. "It would have been unfair to the men, who were tired, and an insult to you, sir."

"Of course it would, gentlemen," said the lieutenant. "I beg your pardon."

He went away, feeling rather uneasy, and set watches in two more places, with orders to fire at the slightest alarm. Then in turn with Terry he visited the posts during the early part of the night, and in turn with Roylance during the latter part, the anxieties of the new command keeping him on the alert.

As for Syd, he sat talking to Roylance for a time after going up to a point where on the one side they could see the lights of the ship as she lay to in the offing, and on the other, very dimly, the distant lamps of the town of Saint Jacques, or those at the head of its harbour.

It was a strange experience up there in that cleft, under the shelter of the tent, with the distant murmur of breaking waves upon the rocks. The low buzz of the men lulled for a time, then ceased, and Syd lay gazing at a great bright star which he could see peering through a slit between two outstretched sails. Then that star passed out of sight and another moved in, followed by another, which grew dim, then dimmer, and finally disappeared, for the simple reason that Syd's eyes had closed and he was fast asleep.



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

The bustle about him at daybreak woke Syd up to find that it was a glorious morning, but a sharp breeze had arisen; the sea was alive with breaking waves, and great rollers kept coming in to thunder upon the rock, sending up the broken water so far that it was evidently the first duty to get all the tackle and raise the remainder of the cases and barrels to the level of the cleft.

Willing hands worked well at this, and at last everything was got up in safety on the first platform ready for running into the cleft, all save the two dismounted guns and their carriages, which were not likely to hurt, and the raising of these was deferred till after the breakfast, which one of the men who acted as cook had prepared.

"There'll be no communication with the ship to-day, gentlemen," said the lieutenant, "unless the wind drops. Why, she must be three miles farther away, and I can't see the Orion. Bad job for you, Mr Belton."

"Yes, sir," said Syd, quietly going on with his breakfast, and glancing at Terry, who scowled.

"Well, I shall make you work. That's the only plan in dealing with stowaways."

"Oh, I'll work, sir," said Syd. "When I've done break fast," he added to himself.

"I tell you what," said the lieutenant; "we shall all be busy getting up and mounting those guns, so I shall set you to find your mare's-nest."

"My what, sir?"

"Mare's-nest, my lad. You shall have two of our most active lads well-armed. Take pistols yourself, and be careful with them. Go and search every hole and cranny you can. Find the thing you saw last night, and bring him or it to me. I'm satisfied it was no one from the Sirius, and it may be some young black sent across and landed to find out what he can."

As soon as the morning meal was ended Syd set about his task, meeting with a lowering look from Terry as he passed him. Two smart young fellows were his companions, and the fact that he had a brace of loaded pistols stuck in his belt making him feel more important than ever he had felt before, till he came upon Strake, who was busy at the very part where he had seen the dark figure pass, and strengthening and adding to the tackle which was to be used to get up the guns.

"Mornin', Mr Belton, sir," said the boatswain; and stepping aside so as to be out of hearing, he said in a low voice, "'Member what I says to you when I was cleaning the cap'in's pistols?"

"Yes, I remember, Barney," said Syd, in the same low tone.

"Then I says it again, sir, that's all."

"I'll take care," said Syd; and he went on in advance of his men, but feeling as if the old boatswain had been cutting his comb.

An isolated mass of rock some eight or ten acres in extent does not suggest that there would be much difficulty in the way of search; but before they had gone many yards Syd realised that he had a very awkward task, and that a rope would be a very acceptable article for helping one another. This had to be fetched, and then once more they started, with Syd beginning to feel the responsibilities of his work, and the necessity for showing that he possessed energy and determination if he wished the men to obey.

They had not gone much past their first halting-place when he stopped and hesitated, for there were cracks and holes large enough to conceal any one, in all directions. As he stood looking round him, one of the men whispered to the other, and they both laughed.

This seemed to stir Syd up. He had inherited enough of his father's habits to feel nettled at any doubt of his ability, and he rather startled the men by saying sharply—

"You, Rogers, go yonder to the left; Wills, you take the right. Both of you keep as close to the sea as you can, and I'll take the centre of the rock. Keep both of you to about my pace, and whenever I'm out of sight wait till you see me again, for I'll keep on the high ground as much as I can. Now then, off and search every hole you see. If you feel that you have run the enemy to earth, stop and fire as a signal."

"Ay, ay, sir," they cried together. "But what's the enemy like, sir?"

"Find him and see," said Syd, sharply. "Now off."

The men separated at once, and the toilsome job began, with the sun beating down with tropical power, but the brisk wind reducing the ardour to bearing point.

"Nice job this," thought the boy, as leaving the cleft centre of the rock a little to his left, he began his arduous clamber. "Why, it's as bad as being an ant in a loaf-sugar basin. Given myself the hardest job."

But he persevered, searching diligently every rift, and amongst great blocks of stone over which he afterwards clambered, seeking the highest point so as to get a sight of one or the other of his two men, who were as active as he; but they all reached the edge of the rock at the point furthest from where they had landed without making any discovery.

"Well," cried Syd, wiping the great drops of perspiration from his brow, "found anything?"

"Lots of holes, sir," said one.

"Cracks big enough to hold a ship's crew, sir," said the other.

"Back again, then," cried Syd. "There's either a monkey or a man in hiding somewhere about the place, and we've got to find him."

"Ought to have said it" thought Syd, as he started back, shouting to the men to take lines a little nearer to him, while he too altered his course, making straight now for the cleft rock which rose like the citadel of the place.

As he climbed along he found rift after rift, some so close that he could not get his hand down, others so wide and deep that he hesitated at the task of leaping over them, wondering what would be the result if he slipped and fell. The fact grew upon him as he went on, that small as the place looked from the ship's deck, there was plenty of room for an enemy or fifty enemies to hide; but he became more certain that the natural pier was the only place where an enemy could land; the two men having confirmed the opinion formed when Lieutenant Dallas rowed round.

"Strikes me," said Syd to himself, as he kept on peering down into chasm after chasm, "that if we want to catch our friend we shall have to set a trap for him."

He climbed on and came to another eerie-looking place, more forbidding than any he had yet seen. It was only a jagged crack of a couple of feet across, but it sloped outward directly, so that a vast hollow was formed, and when he shouted down it there was a deep reverberating sound which died away in a whisper.

Boy nature is boy nature all the world over, and Syd could not resist the prompting which led him to drag a great piece of stone to the edge of the crack and push it in.

He shrank back, startled at the effect of what he had done, for no sooner had the stone disappeared than it seemed to strike on the side and rebound, to strike again and then again and again, raising an echoing, booming roar, which ended as suddenly as it had begun.

"I can't go down a place like that," he said, impatiently, as he shrank away; and then he stood staring, for the noise began again. But not below ground, for it was as if the rock had come crashing out in front of him a hundred and fifty feet away, to be followed by a hurried shouting; and on climbing a block of stone to his right, he made out one of his men looking out for him, and waving his hand and shouting—"Back! Back!"

Something was wrong. Perhaps it was an attack; and he clambered higher so as to attract the attention of the other man, who also shouted and waved his hand before pointing at the citadel in front.

"Something must be wrong," thought Syd, and he hurried panting on, to get in sight of the end of the chasm at last, but he could see nothing, only that the spars rigged up crane-fashion were not there.

He was now on the highest part of the ridge, which ran down from the centre rock to the end; and as he clambered along he gazed seaward in search of the frigate, but it seemed to be gone. The next moment, though, he caught sight of her top-gallant spars, and realised that she must be sailing right away.

The heat was tremendous as Syd struggled on, finding that he had selected a far worse piece of the rock than had fallen to his men, and that his task would prove hopeless without the whole party turned out to help.

All at once, after getting over a block of rugged limestone, which seemed full of coral, he found that he must let himself right down into a deep crack, or else clamber to right or left, where the difficulties were far greater, even if they were surmountable.

He paused for a few moments to wipe his streaming face, and looked up overhead longingly at where the wind was whistling among the blocks of stone, and then lowered himself carefully down some thirty feet, stood listening to a curious sound which came whispering up from where the chasm he was in contracted to a mere crack, and after coming to the conclusion that it must be caused by there being some communication with the sea, he crossed the crack, and began to climb up the other side, where before he was half-way up one of his two men appeared peering over the edge, and looking down with a scared face.

"Oh, there you are, sir," he cried; "we was getting frightened, and thought you'd tumbled."

"No: give me your hand. Thank you. Phew! how hot it is down there!" cried Syd, as he climbed out and stood in the comparatively cool sea-breeze again. "But why did you hail me?"

"Don't know, sir. There's some'at wrong up yonder."

"Something wrong? Not attacked, are they?"

"Dunno, sir."

"Where's your messmate?"

"Here he comes, sir," said the man, waving his hand; and following their young leader, the two sailors made for the end of the great chasm where the guns were to be hoisted up, and Strake had been so busy with the tackle.

For some minutes, as they climbed over or round the obstacles, there was nothing to be seen; but after creeping round a bold corner of rock, Syd suddenly found himself looking down on the whole party from the ship gathered in a knot round what seemed from the rope and tackle to be one of the guns.

"Got it up, and it slipped and fell," thought Syd, as he lowered himself down and made his way to Roylance, whom he touched on the back.

"What's the mat—"

He did not finish, for as the midshipman turned Syd caught sight of the gun and ropes, with some handspikes which had evidently been used as levers.

All that was at a glance. Then he pushed his way forward to sink down on one knee beside the lieutenant, who was lying on his back, his face haggard and ghastly, his teeth set and his eyes closed, while the great drops of agony were gathering on his brow.

He saw no more, for a piece of sail was thrown over his legs.

"Mr Dallas," he cried, "what is it? Are you ill?" A low murmur ran round the little group, and at that moment the boatswain appeared with a pannikin of water from one of the tubs.

As the lieutenant heard the lad's voice, he opened his eyes, looked round wildly, and then his gaze rested on Syd's anxious face.

"Ah, Belton," he said in a hoarse whisper, "bad job. The gear gave way—confounded gun—fell—crushed my legs. Ah!"

He uttered a groan full of anguish and fainted away.

"It's horrible!" cried Roylance, as every one looked on helplessly. "No surgeon; the gale increasing, and the ship out of sight. Here, some one get some brandy or rum. Ah, Belton!" he whispered, with the tears in his eyes, "such a good fellow, and I'm afraid it's all over."

Syd heard this as if in a dream, as a deathly feeling of sickness came over him, and there floated before his eyes a scene in a grand old beech-wood near home, with a group of men standing round, helplessly as these were, the sun shining down like a silver shower through the branches, beneath which was a doctor's gig and a man in a smock frock holding the horse's head. There on the moss, where scattered white chips shone out clearly, lay a fine, well-built young man close by the trunk of a tree which he had been helping to fell, but had not got out of the way soon enough, and the trunk had crushed his legs.

The scene died away, and he was gazing down again at the unfortunate lieutenant instead of at the woodman, with the doctor on his knee and a boy by his side; and as the deathly sickness passed off he was brought more to himself by hearing the haughty domineering voice of Terry.

"Stand away, some of you—all of you!" he cried. "Mr Belton, do you hear me? Go away, sir; you are keeping the air from the wounded man."

Accustomed to obey, fresh ashore from the ship where the discipline was of the strictest, Syd drew back; but as he did so a hysterical sob burst from his throat, and he stepped forward again.

"Confound you, sir! do you hear me?" cried Terry. "I am in command now. Stand back, or I'll put you under arrest."

As he advanced threateningly, Roylance touched Syd's sleeve.

"Don't make a row now, for poor Dallas's sake. Look! He's dying."

Syd looked at him quickly, and then turned back to face Terry, as he said in a dreamy way—"Is there no help?"

"Will you stand back, sir?"

"No doctor? No one who understands—"

"Here, bo'sun—Strake; seize Mr Belton, and take him away."

No one stirred, but a murmur ran round the group as with a bitter cry of agony Syd stepped forward so quickly that Terry drew back, expecting a blow. But the lad did not even see him, and he was in the act of sinking on his knees to take the lieutenant's hand, when his eyes rested on the piece of sail-cloth thrown tightly over the injured man's legs, where a ruddy patch of blood was slowly spreading.

"He's bleeding to death," he cried excitedly; and a change seemed to come over the boy, as he bent down and quickly drew away the sail-cloth.

"This is too much," cried Terry. "You meddling young fool!"

Syd flushed for a moment into anger. "Roylance! Strake!" he cried, "take that idiot away." As he turned from the astounded middy, he threw off his jacket, gave one glance at Dallas, whose eyes were fixed upon him in a wild despairing way; and then knife in hand he was down upon his knees.

"Here, Barney," he said, in cool firm tones, as recollections of what he had seen in the wood at home played once more through his brain; "down on your knees there by his head, and bathe his face with the cold water. Keep back on the windward side," he continued. "Mr Roylance, let four men hold a sail over us to keep off the sun."

His orders were so full of the force which makes men obey, that they were acted upon at once; and all the time Syd was on his knees busy.

Without a moment's hesitation he had inserted his sharp knife at the left knee-band, and slit up the garment right to the groin, laying bare a ghastly wound that seemed to go right to the bone, and from which the blood came in one spot with a regular throb, throb, which Syd knew meant death before long if it was not stopped.

"Water, here!" he shouted.

"I must protest against this boy's meddling," cried Terry. "Mr Belton, let him die in peace."

"Mr Roylance—" came in faint tones from the white lips of the wounded man, "take—Mr Terry—"

He fainted as he spoke, but it was enough. At a word from the midshipman two of the sailors secured Terry by the wrists, and he was forced away, while two other men ran for a bucket of water.

"Leave his head now, Barney," cried Syd, in a quick, decided voice. "Your neckerchief, man. Quick, roll it up."

This was handed to the young operator, who passed it under Dallas's limb far up, tied it round in a knot, called for a jack-knife, and then shouted to the willing man who handed it to shut it up. This done he passed the knife inside the neckerchief, pressed it down on the inner part of the thigh, and then took his sheathed dirk from his belt.

This he also passed under the neckerchief, and began to twist round a few turns, drawing the bandage tightly down on the knife-handle, which, as he still twisted, was forced firmly home, pressing the artery against the bone.

This done, and the dirk secured so that it could not twist back, Syd turned to the gaping wound, from which the blood still welled, but sluggishly. The water was ready, and scooping some on to the wound, it was more plainly revealed as a great clean-cut gash, extending many inches.

Syd's fingers were soon busily employed searching for and finding the ruptured artery, and in spite of the horrible nature of the gash, he uttered a sigh of satisfaction as he discovered it and pressed it between his finger and thumb.

"Now one of you—no, you, Strake," he cried, "off with my handkerchief, and tear it across so as to get me a couple of strips, which roll up fine as twine."

This was done, but the pieces were rejected as too thick.

Two more were prepared and laid ready.

"Now," he said, "a little more water here, over my hands."

He was obeyed, and with deft fingers, taught by Doctor Liss, he rapidly tied the artery, and the main flow of blood was stopped amid a low murmur of satisfaction, the patient, who had revived, lying perfectly motionless with his eyes fixed upon his surgeon.

And now for a few moments the lad paused, with his brow wrinkled up, thinking.

He wanted silk and a large needle, and the latter was unattainable.

"Has any one a pin or two?" he said.

There was an eager search, and the result was that five were found, of which the boatswain produced three; and then stared as he saw his young officer unbutton and strip off his white linen shirt, to kneel there half-naked beneath the rough awning the men held over them, and rapidly slit and tear it up into bandages.

By this time Roylance was back, and taking his cue from his friend, he did not hesitate to follow his example.

"Now quick, Strake," said Syd; "lay me up a few more strips of silk as fine as you can."

"Ay, ay, sir!" and the boatswain's fingers were soon busy, while by means of a couple of broad bandages Syd drew the edges of the wound together, and gave the ends of the bands to two men to hold, while first in one place he cleverly thrust a pin through the skin of one side of the wound and out at the other, then holding the lips of the gash together he quickly twisted a fine thread of silk over the pin-head on one side, over the point on the other, and so on, to and fro, till the wound was closed there.

Over this a temporary bandage was secured, and he proceeded to draw the wound edges together in another place in the same way till this was also fast and temporarily bandaged over. The other three pins were similarly utilised, and then broad fresh bandages of linen were wrapped firmly round, the temporary ones being removed by degrees, and again used in a better manner, till the horrible wound was properly secured; then as Syd ceased his efforts, as if moved by one spirit, a hearty English cheer burst from every one present; and the men whose hands were not occupied threw their hats in the air.

"Hush! pray!" cried Syd, looking up angrily, as, taking his knife once more, he cut through the knee-band of the other leg, slit it up in turn, and then softly drew down the stocking.

Here he paused, and looked anxiously up at his patient, whose pallor was terrible.

"Keep on moistening his lips with a little spirit-and-water, Roylance," he whispered, "or he will not be able to bear the pain."

He was obeyed without a word, and after waiting a few moments the lad, clumsily enough perhaps, but with a show of some of the skill that he had seen displayed by Doctor Liss when out with him upon his rounds, began to make his examination.

The leg was terribly scraped and bruised, but this was not the trouble. Syd's eyes were sufficiently educated to detect what was wrong, and a few delicate touches satisfied him.

"Got off a bit there, hasn't he, Master Syd?" whispered the boatswain.

"Got off, Barney? No," said the lad, sadly. "His thigh-bone is broken, and his leg too, just above the ankle."

"Lor' ha' mussy!" muttered the boatswain, "who'd ha' thought o' that!"

Syd was silent, for he was face to face with another surgical problem. He wanted splints, bandages, and brown paper, and he had none of these. What was to be done?

"Two of you take your knives," he said, "and split up the lid of one of those cases. I want half a dozen strong thin laths of different widths."

"Ay, ay, sir!" came back; and there was the rending sound of wood heard.

"Now for bandages, Barney. Ah, I see. But I want some linen first to go next the skin."

"Oh, you can have all the men's, sir, and welcome, I know."

"Yes, poor fellows. But I want some long narrow ones. You must cut them from one of the sails."

"Ay, ay, sir!"

All worked hard at these preparations, while Syd had the longest lid of any case they had brought to him, and this, after being covered with a piece of sail-cloth, was carefully slipped under the broken limb. Then there was a certain amount of trimming and measuring required over the splints before the young surgeon was satisfied, a sensation of shrinking keeping him from beginning what was another crucial task. Fortunately the fractures were simple, and he had no very great difficulty in bringing the broken bones into their proper positions, after which he bandaged and applied the splints, making all fast, a low moan from time to time being all that escaped from the sufferer.

At last. The final bandage was secured, and a horrible weight was removed from Syd's breast, for he knew that he had set the bones rightly even if his surgery was rough, and so far his patient had not sunk under the operation.

"Shall we carry him up yonder now, sir?" said the boatswain, touching his forelock.

"Move him? no," cried Syd. "Rig up something over his head. He must not be touched." Then, turning to Dallas, he went down on one knee and took his hand. "Are you in much pain?" he said.

The poor fellow was conscious, and he looked full in the speaker's eyes; his lips moved, but no sound came, and the horrible feeling of sickness which had first troubled Syd came back, increasing so fast that the lad rose quickly and staggered a few yards.

"Give me something—water—quick!" he muttered; and all was blank.



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

When Syd opened his eyes he was lying down, with Roylance kneeling by his side, and a curious feeling of wonderment came over him as to what all this meant.

"What's the matter?" he said, sharply.

"You fainted. Are you better now?"

"Some people do faint at the sight of a drop of blood," said a familiar voice, followed by a sneering laugh.

It was medicine to Syd, and he felt better directly, and sat up.

"Give me my jacket and things," he said; and paying no heed to Terry, who was standing close by the two men who had been placed over him, busily helping with the rough tent they were fitting over the lieutenant, he walked to his patient, to find him lying so passive that he shuddered, and wondered whether the poor fellow was dead.

"Did I do wrong?" Syd asked himself. "Would he have got better if I had left him alone?"

He felt his ignorance terribly as he asked himself these questions; but the answer was ready for utterance as Roylance said, looking white as he spoke—

"Oh, Belt, old fellow, what a horrible job to have to do!" And then, "Would he have got right without?"

"No. If he had gone on bleeding from that artery he would by now have been a dead man."

"But how did you learn all that? The lads can do nothing else but talk about it."

"Hush! come away," said Syd. "Let him sleep, and"—he shuddered—"let one of the men bring me a bucket of water."

It was well on in the middle of the day, and there was no sign of the ship. The men had greatly improved the shelter up in the chasm; but though the carriages were up one at each end near the positions they were to occupy, the two guns which should by this time have been mounted lay on the rock, the first one having brought down the tackle, and bounded from a sloping stone on to the unfortunate lieutenant, pinning him to the ground before he could get out of the way.

After seeing that his patient was carefully watched by one of the men who had been his companion that morning, Syd was trying to drive away the miserable feeling of faintness and exhaustion from which he suffered by partaking of a little refreshment, when, just as he was thinking of his father's orders, and that those guns ought to be mounted, the boatswain came up, touched his hat to him and Roylance, and was about to speak, when Terry strode up, and ignoring his brother midshipmen, said sharply—

"Look here, bo'sun; that was all nonsense this morning. Mr Dallas is wounded, and incapable. I am senior officer, and the captain's orders must be carried out. Call the men together, and I'll have those guns up at once."

"Ay, ay, sir!" cried Strake; his whistle sounded shrilly against the sides of the rock, and the men came running up.

"All hands to hoist up the guns," cried Terry. "Now, bo'sun, have that tackle fixed better this time."

"Ay, ay, sir. Now, my lads, be smart, and we'll have that gun up in a jiffy."

The men were all gathered together in a knot, but no one stirred; and they began muttering to themselves.

"Now, my lads; what is it?" cried the boatswain. "You don't mind a bit o' sunshine, do you? Come, bear a hand."

Not a man stirred, and Syd and Roylance exchanged looks.

"What is the meaning of this?" cried Terry, in a bullying tone. "Do you hear, men? I want these guns up directly."

Still no one stirred, and Terry grew pale. His one hand played about his sword, and his other hand sought a pistol.

"Bo'sun!" he cried, "what is the meaning of this insubordination?"

Strake shook his head.

"D'ye hear, my lads? Mr Terry wants to know the meaning of this ins'bordination."

Not a man spoke.

"Look here," cried Terry, drawing his dirk, "I am not going to be trifled with. I order you to help hoisting up those guns. What do you mean? Are you afraid of another accident?"

"No," cried the men with one consent, in quite a shout.

"Then look here, my lads," cried Terry, drawing a pistol, "I'll stand no nonsense. Will you obey?"

"Look here, Terry," said Roylance, sharply, "there is no occasion for violence. The men think they have some grievance; ask them what it is."

"Mind your own business, sir," cried Terry, sharply; but as Roylance drew back with a deprecating gesture, he spoke to the boatswain.

"Ask the mutinous scoundrels what they mean," he said.

The boatswain went up to the knot of men.

"Now then, you swabs," he growled; "what's these here games?"

"We arn't going to have him playing at skipper over us," said one of them. "The luff put him under arrest for interferin'."

"Ay, ay," growled the others; "we don't want he."

"S'pose you know it's hanging at the yard-arm for mutiny, my lads?" said the boatswain, gruffly.

"Mutiny? Who want's to mutiny?" said another. "We're ready enough to work, arn't we, messmates?"

"Ay, ay," came in chorus.

"Then lay hold o' the rope, and let's have them guns up yonder."

"Ay, to be sure; we'll get the guns up," said another man; "but Mr Terry's under 'rest."

"Then you won't haul?" said the boatswain.

"Not one on us. He arn't an officer till he's been afore the skipper."

"Well, what am I to tell him?"

"What yer like," said one of the first speakers.

Strake gave his quid a turn, rubbed his ear, and walked back.

"Won't haul, sir," he said, laconically.

"What! Then it's mutiny. Mr Roylance, Mr Belton, draw your swords. Bo'sun, run and get a cutlass and pistols."

"I don't want no cutlass to them, sir; I've got my fists," growled the boatswain.

"What, are you in a state of mutiny too?" cried Terry.

"Not as I knows on, sir?"

"Then arrest the ringleader."

"Which is him, sir?"

"That man," cried Terry, pointing with his dirk to Rogers, one of the smart young fellows who had been Syd's companion in the morning. "Bring him here. Oh, if I had a file of marines!"

"Which you arn't got," muttered Strake, as he strode back to where the men were together.

"Here you, Ike Rogers," he said; "I arrests you for mutiny."

"No, no," growled the men together.

"All right, messmates," said Rogers, laughing. "Can't put us in irons, for there arn't none."

"Come on," said Strake, clapping him on the shoulder. "Mr Terry wants you."

"What for?" said Rogers, eyeing the middy's dirk; "to pick my teeth?"

In the midst of a burst of laughter the boatswain marched the man up to where Terry was, strutting and fuming about.

"Now, you scoundrel," he said; "what does this mean?"

"Beg pardon, sir; that's what we want to know."

"Then I'll tell you, sir; it's rank mutiny."

"There now, bo'sun; that's just what we thought," said Rogers, turning to him. "I know'd it was, and that's why we wouldn't come."

"You scoundrel! You're playing with me," cried Terry.

"Nay, sir; not me. Wouldn't ketch me play with a orficer with a big sword in his hand."

"Then tell me what you mean. You said it was mutiny, and so you would not come."

"That's it, sir. Sworn to sarve the King; and when a young orficer, which is you, sir, breaks out of arrest, and wants to lead a lot of poor chaps wrong, 'tarn't me as 'll risk my neck."

Terry's jaw dropped at this unexpected reply, and Roylance burst into a roar of laughter, in which he was joined by Syd, while Strake stood with his face puckered up like a year-old pippin, and rubbed his starboard ear.

"Mr Roylance!" cried Terry at last, "how is discipline to be preserved while you encourage the men in this tomfoolery? I shall report it to the captain, sir."

"Look here, Mr Terry," said Roylance, firmly; "the man is, in his way, quite right."

"Ay, ay, sir," cried the others, who had closed in, following their messmate.

"Quite right?"

"Yes; Mr Dallas put you under arrest."

"Mr Dallas is ill—dying, and unable to give orders, sir. I am your senior."

"Oh, you're welcome to take command for me," cried Roylance. "I don't want the responsibility."

"Once more, my lads, I warn you of the consequences. Will you go to your work?"

There was no reply, and the men drew back, while Terry stood looking along their faces with his pistol raised.

"Mind that there don't go off, please, sir," said Rogers, dryly. "You might hit me."

There was a roar of laughter at this, and Terry stamped with rage.

"Shall I go and try and bring 'em to their senses, sir?" said the boatswain.

"No—yes," cried Terry.

"Which on 'em, sir?" said the boatswain, dryly.

"Yes. Go and see, and tell them I'll shoot down the first man who disobeys."

"Oh, Lor'!" groaned Rogers, with mock horror, and there was another laugh, while Syd turned away unable to keep his countenance, and went to where the lieutenant lay asleep.

"Look here, my lads," growled the boatswain; "it's no use kicking agen it. Come on; lay to at the ropes, and let's get the work done."

"We arn't going to be bully-ragged by a thing like that," said the oldest man present. "If he was a chap with anything in him, we would. But he's a bully, that's what he is. Let Mr Roylance take command."

"Says as Mr Roylance is to take command, sir," shouted Strake.

"No," said Roylance, "I will not undertake the responsibility."

"Look ye here, messmates," cried Rogers, as Syd hung back from the little tent, "Capen Belton's our skipper."

"Ay, ay," shouted the men.

"And he arn't here, and the luff's in orspittle."

"Well, we know that, Iky," said one of the men.

"Ay, lad; but here comes the son. I says let young Captain Belton take command."

"Ay, ay!" thundered the men, and they gave three cheers.

"There you are, sir," said the boatswain. "Men says you're to take command."

"I?" cried Syd; "nonsense. There's Mr Roylance."

"No, no," cried the men; and Terry stood grinding his teeth, and looking threateningly at Syd.

"Look here, my lads," cried Syd; "the captain wants those guns mounted, and this place held."

"Ay, ay, sir; we'll do it and hold it again anybody," cried Rogers.

"Very well put, Belton; very well," cried Terry.

"Your officer is helpless. Will you obey Mr Terry, and do your duty like men?"

"No!" came with a roar.

"Then let Mr Roy lance take command. Come, be men."

"We arn't got nothing agen Mr Roylance," shouted a voice; "but we want you."

"Go on, Belton; take command. The ship will be back perhaps to-night, and we must have those guns up," said Roylance.

"Will you back me up?"

"Of course," cried Roylance, heartily.

"All right, then, my lads," cried Syd. "Now then, with a will."

"Ay, ay. Hooray!" shouted the men.

"Man signalling from the tent, sir," said Roylance.

"Oh!" ejaculated Syd, as a cold chill ran through him, and he shrank from learning what it meant. "Go and see, Roy."

Roylance was already half-way there, and he came back directly.

"Mr Dallas says you are to take command, Mr Belton," he cried, loud enough for the men to hear; "and he begs that at any cost you will get the guns in position before dark."

"Ay, ay," yelled the men, and then there was dead silence.

"I am only one against you all, Mr Belton," said Terry, in a low, snarling tone, "and the moment the Sirius comes back, I go to the captain and tell him the whole truth."

"Do," said Syd, quietly; "only tell him all."



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

"Barney, keep near me, and tell me what to do," whispered Syd; "I feel such a fool."

"You dear lad," said the old man, softly. "Why, I've been that proud on you to-day as never was, and been wishing the capen was here."

"Nonsense! Now about getting up these guns. I can't tell the men what to do."

"Yah! you're right enough. All you've got to do is to look on and say, 'Now, my lads, with a will!' and, 'Come, bo'sun, don't play with it!' And, 'Altogether, my lads!' and you'll see them guns mounted in no time. Steady; here's Mr Roylance coming."

"But it seems to be only playing at captain, and I don't—"

"Ay, ay, sir," roared the boatswain. "You're right. Parbuckle it is. Be smart, my lads, and get down a cask. One o' them as the stores was in."

There was a hearty assent, as Syd said to himself, "What does he mean by 'parbuckle'?"

"Cast off these here ropes, sir," shouted Strake again. "Ay, ay, sir. Now, my lads, off with them."

The men trotted here and there with the greatest of alacrity, and by the time the ropes were unfastened from the first gun, a cask was rolled to the end of the gap, lowered down, and placed by the end of the gun.

The boatswain came to Syd's side again.

"Get the gun inside, and then pack her round with tarpaulin and doubled-up sails, wouldn't you, sir?" he said.

"Yes, if it's best," replied Syd; and the boatswain went off again to the men.

"Talk about a lad!" he said. "My! he is the right sort. Now then, in with that handspike, boys."

The men placed one end of the tough ash staff into the muzzle of the gun, then laid hold and lifted it high enough for a block to be placed under it. Then the men depressed the muzzle, the leverage given by the handspike enabling them to raise the breech; and the cask was run over it right up over the trunnions, a little more hoisting and heaving getting the gun right in, when it was easily packed round with doubled-up sails, and wedged tight in the centre.

After this the task was comparatively easy. Four ropes were made fast to a mass of rock in the gap, brought down and passed under the cask, taken back over the top, and from thence into the gap, where, with Syd now comprehending, and wonderfully interested in the task, giving orders, all the strength of the detachment was brought to bear, and the cask was hauled up the slope without a mishap.

A burst of cheers greeted this, and it was then rolled on over the rough ground with handspikes, till it was at the upper end of the gap by its carriage, which was ready on a rough platform.

Then the unpacking began, Syd needing no instructions now the cask and packing were rolled back, and the second gun was brought up with greater ease than the first.

The rigging up of a kind of tripod, and hoisting each gun up into its place on the carriage, was a mere matter of every-day detail, and before dark Syd had the satisfaction of seeing his father's wishes carried out, and each piece ready with its pile of shot and ammunition stowed under the shelter of a niche in the rock which made an admirable magazine.

He had been alone part of the time, but admirably seconded by Strake, who kept up his bit of acting at first with a show of reality that was admirable, till he saw that his young master had grasped the requisite knowledge, and in his excitement began to order and dictate till the work was done; for Terry had gone off with a glass to sweep the horizon in search of the frigate, getting under shelter of a great piece of stone, the wind blowing almost a gale.

But he searched in vain. For some reason the Sirius had sailed right away; and he crept down at last with the unsatisfactory feeling that he had been superseded, and that it would be some time before the frigate returned.

But long before he descended, Roylance—who had set the sailor free, and was watching in his place by the lieutenant's side—had communicated with Sydney, and asked him to come and look at his patient.

It was a sad sight. The poor fellow lay motionless and breathing feebly and hurriedly, for there was a suggestion of the fever that was pretty sure to come; and a feeling of helplessness came over Syd as he bent over his patient, and wondered what he could do more to save his life.

After the guns had been dragged up, a portion of the men were at liberty to help in other ways, and a good deal more had been done to the shelter up in the gap.

It was quite time, for with the coming night it was evident there would be a storm. And it became a matter of certainty that if the wind did rise, the rough tent set up with a sail thrown over a spar, for the lieutenant's use, would be exposed to the higher waves, and must inevitably be saturated by the spray.

It was no use to sigh, the task had at all risks to be done, and the question arose how the wounded man was to be transported to the gap.

"Can't we do something to keep him here?" suggested Syd; "build a rough wall of rock to shelter him."

The answer came at once in the shape of a large roller, which seemed to glide in, and after deluging the little pier broke with a heavy, thunderous noise, and sent a tremendous shower of broken water over the canvas of the rough tent, nearly driving it flat, and proving that the position where Mr Dallas lay would not be tenable much longer.

"I think I can manage it, sir," said the boatswain, touching his hat, "if I may try."

"What will you do?"

"This here, sir."

There was no time to waste; and with all the handiness of a sailor the old man set to work, took down the sail, and folded it till it was in the form of an oblong, some eight feet by four.

"Now two on you," he said, "draw that under the lufftenant while we eases him up. Not that way, you swabs: folded edge first."

The doubled sail was reversed, and as Mr Dallas was gently lifted the canvas was drawn under him; Syd feeling a chill run through him as the poor fellow lay perfectly inert, not so much as giving vent to a moan.

"Now, one at each corner," said the boatswain. "Mind and not shift that there board under his leg. Steady—altogether."

The men lifted, and the wounded man was borne close up to the slope below the gap, where the spars and tackle were erected at the edge some fifteen feet above their heads.

It was none too soon; the men were in the act of lowering their burden gently down, when, with a noise like thunder, another wave broke, and it was only by making a rush through the foam that the spars, canvas, and rope lying by the rough tent were saved by the men from being carried away.

"Just in time, Roy," said Sydney; "but how are we to get him up there, bo'sun?"

"Oh, that's easy enough, sir; I can work that."

Taking a small boat-mast, the boatswain rapidly lashed the ends of the temporary hammock fast to the spar, and then ropes were carried and secured to the tackle-block in a way that, when all was ready, there was no difficulty in hauling the spar horizontally up, with the temporary hammock and its burden swinging from the spar like a palanquin.

All this was cleverly managed, and willing hands seized one end of the spar as soon as it was up to the end of the gap, drew it in till the other end could be reached and shouldered, and then the hammock was borne right up to where the shelter had been previously prepared.

As soon as the patient had been carefully laid down, Sydney knelt beside him to place his light hand upon his heart, trembling the while in anticipation of his worst dread being fulfilled, and a cold chill came over him again, as it seemed to him that there was no movement.

He shifted his hand to the pulse, and still there seemed to be no sign, till he lifted the fingers up a little and drew a catching breath, for there was certainly a feeble throbbing sensible.

"Can't s'pect much, sir," whispered the boatswain. "Man's awful weak when he's like that. Bimeby, though, he'll turn hot and fev'rish; they generally does."

"But he is alive," said Syd, softly; and he proceeded to examine his bandages, thankful to find that the bleeding had stopped, and the splints, thanks to the board beneath the sufferer's leg, unshifted.

Breathing a little more freely now, and enforcing silence among the men, Sydney left the temporary tent, and took a look round with Roylance, previous to making dispositions for the night.

Everything was rather chaotic, but the guns were in position, the men's arms arranged, and the tackle drawn up, so that they were all secure in a natural fort, whose approaches could easily be defended, there being only one place where an enemy was likely to approach. Here a watch was set, and orders given for a meal to be prepared, in anticipation of which a tot of rum was served round to the tired men, and a bit of tobacco handed to each by Sydney's orders.

The effect was miraculous. Five minutes before the men looked worn-out and dull in the gathering gloom; now there was a burst of subdued laughter and talk from the group gathered round the fire which the cook had prepared, the light shining on the face of Terry, who stood leaning against a piece of the perpendicular rock, his arms folded, and a heavy scowl upon his brow.

"I don't like that, Roy," said Syd, in a low tone; "it's miserable work being bad friends."

"Yes; I hate it."

"I've a good mind to go and ask him to shake hands."

"If you do he'll think you are afraid of him."

"He wouldn't be so stupid, would he?"

"Yes: make him come to you."

"I suppose that would be best," said Syd, with a sigh. "Let's go up here and look out for the lights of the frigate. What are you laughing at?"

"You. Come; you're a capital doctor, but not much of a sailor yet."

"Oh, I'm no doctor. I couldn't have done that, only I used to go along with a friend of my father on his rounds, and saw what he did."

"Well, you've saved poor Mr Dallas's life."

"Think so, Roy? Ah, if I could only feel sure! But why," added Syd, after a pause, "did you say I was no sailor?"

"To talk about seeing the frigate's lights. She couldn't have beat up near here in such a gale as this. Whew! it does blow."

They had been walking carefully along the gap towards the point where the further gun was mounted, and gradually clambered up higher till they were beyond the shelter of the side of the southern cleft, when Roylance had just time to clap his hand to his head and save his hat, which was starting on a voyage into the black night.

The next minute Syd was beside him, holding on to the rocky edge of the cleft, high up above the guns, catching the full force of the wind. Down below they were in complete shelter. Here the gale had such power that it was impossible to stand securely. The wind shrieked about their ears, and seemed to come at them in huge waves, each throwing them back against the rock, and now and then making what felt like a snatch to tear them from where they stood, and hurl them down the rocks, or blow them away to sea.

"I say," cried Roylance, panting to get his breath, and holding his lips close to his companion's ear, "they must be having it pretty rough on board to-night."

"Think there's any danger?" shouted Syd.

"Not if they keep well out to sea. Eh? What?"

"I didn't speak," roared Syd; "it was the wind howling."

"Hadn't we better get down? I feel as if I was going to be blown right off."

"Wait a bit. I say, I think I'll have a man posted here by this gun."

"What, now?"

"Yes, at once."

"Nonsense, man; there's no one on the rock but ourselves, and no enemy could come near us in this gale."

"No," shouted Syd; "suppose not. But—"

He had to cease speaking and hold on, for the wind rushed at them now with redoubled violence, and for a minute neither thought of anything but the danger.

"It does blow," panted Syd at last, as the wind lulled a little. "I was going to say—do you feel sure there is no one else on the rock?"

"Yes, of course."

"I don't," said Syd, decisively; "I know I saw something, or some bird."

"A goat left on the rock."

"No; it could not have been a goat; it must—"

Whoo! The wind rushed at them again, and once more they held on, longing to get down below, but fascinated by the awful din. Below them the darkness seemed profound; only now and then they saw a gleam, as if one of the waves—which broke with a roar like thunder on the rock, and sent a fine cloud of spray floating about their faces—contained some kind of light living creatures, or it was only a reflection on the smooth curve, before it broke, of the stars overhead. For there all was clear enough, save that the stars looked blurred, though bright, and were quivering and vibrating beyond the rushing wind.

"Oh!" ejaculated Syd. "Hear that?"

"Hear it!" was the reply; "I could feel it. Shan't have the whole rock swept away, shall we?"

There was a lull in the wind just then, but the two lads had clung there, completely awe-stricken, as a huge hill of water had heaved up, and fallen on the outer buttresses of the rock, which quivered under the shock. Then there was a roar of many waters, a wild rushing and booming sound, and the wind blew harder.

They looked out into the awful blackness, which seemed transparent, glanced up at the quivering stars, once more paused to listen again to the tremendous impact of the waves that came regularly rolling in, and then, taking advantage of a lull, they descended to where the gun had been mounted.

The change was wonderful. They had not descended fifty feet, but it was into complete shelter. The wind was rushing over their heads, and the waves were thundering in far below, but the noise sounded dull and distant, and they sat down, breathing freely, and rubbing their spray-wet faces.

"No," said Syd, quietly; "no fear."

"What of?"

"The rock being swept away; it would have gone before now."

"Well, I'm beginning to think we're safer here than on board," said Roylance.

"Don't say that," cried Syd, excitedly. "You don't think there's any danger to the frigate, do you?"

"No," said Roylance, sharply. "Come on down now, and let's get something to eat."

They walked steadily back towards where the fire was glowing and burning briskly in the sheltered depth of the chasm, casting curious lights and reflections on the rocks to right and left, and showing plainly the figure of the man on the watch beside the farther gun, and the spars rigged up at his side.

"Looks as if he were going to be hung," said Roylance, quietly.

"Yes, the spars have an ugly look with that rope hanging down. I almost wish I had put a man up by the other gun."

"What for? I tell you we can go to sleep in peace to-night."

"With poor Mr Dallas like that?"

"Forgotten him for the moment. No; of course one of us will take the watch, unless Terry comes down and turns civil. There, hi! look at that! look at that."

Bang!—The report of the sentry's pistol as Syd and Roylance had started trotting down towards the gun at the lower end.

In an instant the men about the fire had leaped up, and stood ready for any action by their arms.

"Did you see it, my man?" panted Syd.

"Ay, ay, sir; came running along like a big tiger from up yonder by the fire, and I fired at it, and then it was gone."

"Did you see which way it went?"

"No, sir, 'cause o' the smoke."

"It seemed to me to disappear among these rocks," said Roylance.

"No; I saw it come out from behind there, and then it leaped off into the darkness just below the gun. Here, spread out, my lads; it didn't go that way. Keep a smart look-out, and go steady down to the edge. It couldn't have jumped off, and must be here."

A thorough search took place, and this was easy enough, for the space within the gap or chasm was comparatively small. But there was no result, and at last a few burning brands were thrown down from the edge just below the gun to light up the rocks there, in the hope that some animal might be lying killed by its fall.

There was nothing visible, and at last, after making their arrangements for the night, Roylance and Sydney sat together, talking in low tones about the mysterious appearance seen now twice.

"Here, I'll keep watch," said Roy, after they had taken another look at the injured man.

"No, I'll take the first half," said Syd, quietly.

"Well, you're in command," said Roylance; "but I don't feel comfortable about going to sleep with a wild beast dancing minuets all over one in the night."

"I shall be watching," said Syd.

"Oh, very well: I'll lie down. Poor Terry's got the best of it; he has been fast asleep for an hour."

Roylance lay down under the sail, covering himself with his boat-cloak, and was asleep directly; while Sydney, after another glance at Dallas, who seemed to be sleeping quietly, placed his pistols in his belt, and went out to visit the watch.



CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

As Syd stood outside the effect was very curious. The wind was blowing with hurricane violence, and in a dull distant way the sea was breaking wave after wave against the rocks, but where he stood there was hardly a breath of air. Then with the novelty of his sensations increasing, and feeling that all this seemed to him like a dream from which he would awake in the morning, he walked to where the watch was posted, and started a little on seeing two figures in the darkness instead of one.

"On'y me, Mr Belton, sir," came in the boatswain's gruff growl. "Rogers here felt it a bit lonesome like with no company but a long gun. And look ye here, mate," he whispered to the man, "don't you never forget to reload arter you've fired your pistol."

"Seen or heard anything more?" said Syd, making an effort to keep up his new dignity.

"No, sir. Fancied I did once, but it warn't nothing."

"Blowing very hard, bo'sun."

"Well, sir, tidy, tidy; most a capful o' wind. Thought I'd come and stay with him, sir," he whispered, as they walked aside to gaze out to sea; "bit scared like arter seeing that there thing again."

"There was something, Barney, I'm sure."

"Steady, Master Syd, sir, steady," growled the boatswain. "You can't lower yourself to call me Barney now you're commander of a fort, and a werry strong one too."

"Oh, very well, bo'sun. But about that thing, whatever it was. What do you think it could be?"

"Well, sir, I don't see how it could get here; but it's either a monkey or some small kind o' nigger as lives nateral like on rocks."

"But what could he live on?"

"Dunno, sir; lickin' on 'em p'r'aps."

"But there's no water."

"No, sir; that's what puzzles me. The worst on it is it scares the lads."

"Well, it is startling. He did not hit it, I suppose?"

"Hit it?" said the boatswain, contemptuously; "not him, sir. Get's thinking it's—there, I arn't going to say what he thinks. Sailors has all kind o' Davy Jonesy ideas in their heads till they gets promoted, and then o' course they're obliged to be 'bove all that sort of thing."

"When do you think the frigate will be back?"

"Can't say, sir. Not so long as the wind's blowing like this."

"Oh!" ejaculated Syd; "so unfortunate. Just as we want the surgeon so badly."

"What for, sir?"

"Mr Dallas, of course."

"Surgeon? What do he want with a surgeon? You mended him a deal better than I've seen poor chaps patched in the cockpit during an action, when the surgeon and his mates was busy. Look ye here, Master Syd, I've knowed you ever since you was a bit of a toddlin' thing as held on to my finger—this here one—and couldn't get your little dumpy things right round it; and you know me, sir, I wouldn't say a word to praise you as I didn't mean."

"Oh, I don't know, Strake."

"Then you may know, sir; I wouldn't—theer! And I says to you now as a honest man as never took nothin' worse than one o' them yaller gummy plums off the wall—them as crack right open like wide mouths, and seems to be putting out their stones at you laughin' like, and sayin', eat me if you dare. Well, sir, I say as a honest man, if ever I'm wounded I don't want no surgeon but you."

"Oh, nonsense, man! There'll be a long serious time yet when he wants the surgeon's attention."

"Not him, sir. No: we'll do all that."

"I hope so, Strake. But now we are alone, tell me what I am to do to-morrow."

"Just what you like, sir. If it was me I should mast-head Master Terry, if he come any of his games."

"Without a mast-head?"

"No, sir; you'll have to set up one o' them spars, the one with the little truck for the halliards right a top o' the highest pynte, to fly the Bri'sh colours, and you can send him there."

"But about this place, and men?"

"Oh, I dunno, sir. If it was me I should set the lads to level the gun-platforms a bit, and some o' the others to build up two or three walls with the loose rocks for us to roof in. One for the men, one for the orficers, and one for the stores."

"Yes, I thought of doing that."

"Why, of course you did, sir. And then you could give the men some gun-drill, and arter that wait till the enemy comes."

"Yes, and when the enemy comes?"

"Send him back with a flea in his ear. No room for no Frenchies here."

"I hope they won't come," said Syd, half to himself.

"Now, now, now, sir; no yarns to an old sailor," said the boatswain, chuckling. "I can believe a deal, but I can't believe that."

"Don't talk nonsense, Strake. Look here, is there anything else to be done?"

"Well, sir, it seems to me, going over it all as I have been, that you've been thinking that we've got our prog here, and some water, and not enough of it till the frigate comes back, so that you might put the lads on 'lowance so as to make sure."

"Ah, I had not thought of that."

"Beggin' your pardon, sir, you had, only it hadn't come up yet. That there was a thing to be thought on by a commanding orficer, and course you thought on it, on'y talking to me promiskus like you forgetted it. Then there's another thing. The skipper never thought 'bout going far away from here, I s'pose, and there's precious little wood, so I'll tell the cook he's to let it off easy, if so be as you says I am."

"Yes, of course, Strake. Tell him."

"Ay, ay, sir. We may have the luck to get some drift timber chucked up among the rocks; but if we do it'll want a deal o' drying 'fore it's good to burn."

"No, we must not reckon on that."

"Arter seeing to these two or three little things 'cordin' to your orders, sir, I should say that you've got as snug a little fort to hold as any one could wish, and all you'll want then is a sight o' the enemy to make you quite happy."

The boatswain ceased speaking, and Syd stood laughing to himself, but treasuring up what had been said, as the wind swept overhead, and the waves kept on thundering in over the natural pier; though strangely enough the noise of the waves at this end of the gap also passed right up and away, so that it was possible to talk in a low tone, and hear the slightest sound anywhere near.

They had been standing like this for some time when Syd suddenly laid his hand on the boatswain's arm.

"What's that?" he said, in a low whisper.

"Dunno, sir," whispered back the boatswain. "Trying to make out. I heard it twyste afore. What did it sound like to you?"

"One stone striking against another."

"That's it, sir, exact. Don't say any more here. It'll only scare yon chap. Sailors is easily frightened 'bout what they don't understand."

They stood listening for some few minutes, but there was no farther sound, so they bade the man on guard keep a sharp look-out, though for what Syd could not have said, and turned to go up to the tent and see if Mr Dallas was awake.

As they approached the place where the fire had been, a faint waft of the wind passed down the gap, and as it swept over the embers they brightened up, and shed sufficient light for Syd to see something creeping softly by the spot.

Syd caught the boatswain's arm, and a gentle tap from the rough fellow's hand seemed to express that he knew, and had noticed. This was so evidently the object that had twice before been seen, that now was the time to convince themselves whether it was human, or some quadruped dwelling on the rock.

"If I whisper," thought Syd, "it will take alarm, I know."

He caught the boatswain's arm again and tried to draw him away back into the darkness. For the moment Strake resisted, then he gave way and allowed himself to be drawn toward the man on guard.

"Now we shall lose him, sir," said the boatswain in a gruff whisper. "I'd got my eye on him, and was just a-going to give a pounce when you stopped it."

"Yes; but look here, Strake," whispered Syd. "Each time it has been seen it came up this way from somewhere close to the gun. If we stop here we shall trap it."

"But will it come back by here?"

"Yes, I feel sure. It goes up there to prowl about and get food, and then it comes back to hide somewhere here in these cracks among the rocks."

"Werry good, sir; I dare say you knows best. What shall I do—shoot it, or give it a chop with the cutlash?"

"No; it may be a man—and we don't want to shed blood."

"Right, sir. Then we watches here?"

"Yes," said Syd, taking his place behind a block of stone, though it was so dark there was hardly need to hide. Strake followed his example, and they crouched down, with their ears on the strain, satisfied now that the clicking sound of stones striking together was made by this creature, whatever it was.

"You must be on your guard, sir," whispered Strake. "Whatever it is, it'll be sure to scratch or bite. But so sure as you make a grab I shall be there, and he won't kick much with me atop of him. Hist!"

Syd listened, but there was no sound, and he waited so long that he was going to speak to the boatswain and say, "We'll give up now," when a curious crunching noise fell upon his ear, and the next moment something dark was evidently trotting by them, looking in the darkness like a great dog.

With one bound the young midshipman was at it, but it eluded his grasp, and ran right at Strake, who was the next moment down on his face.

"Stand, or I fire!" came from a short distance away.

"No, no. Avast there; it's the captain—I mean Mr Belton and me, my lad," growled Strake, getting up. "See that, Mr Belton, sir; I'd just got it when it went right through my legs, and I was down. Which way did it go?"

"Don't know. I did not even feel it."

"It's a big monkey, sir, or else—I know, sir, it's one o' they small bears, and that was biscuit he was chawing. We'd better shoot him. They bites as well as scratches and hugs, besides being very good eating, so they say."

"Well, it's of no use to try to catch it now. Better hunt it from its hole by daylight. Isn't it time Rogers was relieved?"

"Gettin' nigh, sir; on'y it's all on the guess.—Look here, sir, I know; we'll smoke the beggar out."

"A capital way," said Syd; "only we've first got to find the hole."



CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

The sea was terrific when Sydney took his first look-out next morning, after a good restful sleep, and he felt terribly low-spirited, for he was experienced enough to see that Mr Dallas was in a very low and dangerous state. He was feverish, and lay wild-eyed and strange, evidently recognising no one, but talking in a low, muttering way.

"It's too much to be on my shoulders," Syd said to himself, despondently, as he took off his hat, and stood letting the cool morning air fan his forehead. "Mr Dallas wanting a surgeon, Terry setting me at defiance, the men half mutinous, and the whole charge of everything on my shoulders."

One of his remarks was hardly fair, for the men greeted him with a smile and a cheery aspect every time he went near them, and after their breakfast worked most energetically to make the improvements suggested overnight, so that about sundown Strake smiled in his grim way, and touched his hat.

"There, sir," he said; "the captain may come back and land now if he likes. I shouldn't be ashamed to show him round."

"No, Strake; everything is beautifully neat."

"Yes, sir; decks cleared for action. We're ready for anybody now."

"Have you looked in on the lieutenant lately?"

"Half-hour ago, sir. Mr Roylance was with him, watching closely."

"Well, don't you think he looks very bad?"

"Yes, sir; purty well. Bad as one's officer could look to be alive."

"And you talk of it in that cool way."

"Well, sir, how am I to talk? He's no worse than lots more I've seen."

"But do you think he's dying?"

"Nay: not he, sir. Lots of life in him yet. And look here, sir, what do you say to that?"

"A bit of biscuit?"

"Yes, sir; that's it. Monkey, sir, or a bear?"

"I don't understand you, Strake."

"Picked it up, sir, just where we tried to catch him last night. I'm going to lie wait for that gentleman, and give him a pill."

"Oh, never mind about that, Strake; there's so much else to think about. I've been in twice to Mr Dallas, and he doesn't know me."

"Dessay not, sir. Lost a deal of blood, you see. He's all right, I'm sure. Why, I've seen lots o' men worse than he, ever so much; legs off, both on 'em, an' an arm took off fust by a shot and then afterwards by the doctors, and they've come round."

"But, Strake—"

"Now, look here, dear lad," whispered the boatswain, speaking earnestly. "I wouldn't say what I do if I didn't think it. Mr Dallas is going to be purty bad, I dessay, for a month, but he'll come round."

"But I feel, Strake, as if I have done wrong by him."

"Nat'rally, dear lad; but I feel that you haven't."

"If I could only think that."

"Oh, well then, I'll soon make you. Let me ask you a question, sir. S'pose you hadn't touched Mr Dallas?"

"Well?"

"Nobody else would, of course. We didn't know how."

"I suppose not."

"Very well then, dear lad, what would have happened?"

"I'm afraid—he would have died."

"And how soon, sir?"

"He would have bled to death. I can't say how soon. Before night."

"Exactly, sir. Well, then, you came and set to work in a way as made every Jack here feel as if he'd do anything for you, sir; and it's to-morrow now, and the lufftenant arn't dead."

"No, Strake; not yet."

"Nor arn't going to be; what more do you want? Come, rouse up, my lad, and hold your head higher. Don't be skeered. Let go at us; call us swabs and lubbers, anything you can lay your tongue to; the men 'll like it from you. And as to Mr Terry, as has gone up where I planted the flagstaff this morning, don't you fret about him. He daren't hardly say his soul's his own."

"You've planted the flagstaff?"

"Yes, sir; right on the top, fastened it down between some rocks, and got guys out to other rocks. I didn't hyste the colours, for this wind would tear the bunting all to rags."

Sydney took a few steps to one side.

"Can't see it from here, sir, or you'd see Mr Terry too, getting hisself such a blowing as never was. He's a-looking out for the frigate, him too as studies navigation with the master. He ought to know better."

"What do you mean?"

"As we shan't see the Sirius for a week to come, if we do then."

"Then I must go on as if we were to stay some time," thought Syd; and that day was spent in adding to the comfort of their quarters and the security of the magazine, in case rain should follow the gale of wind.

Another stormy day followed, and toward night, after spending some time by the lieutenant's bedside, Sydney was relieved by Roylance, Terry having made no offer to aid, and when asked by Roylance, having replied that he was under arrest, and exonerated from such duties.

"What's the weather going to be, bo'sun?" said Syd, meeting that officer on the upper platform.

"Don't see no prospect o' change, sir."

"Because as soon as we possibly can, I want the rock properly gone over by a strong party, so that we can make sure that there is no other landing-place. We may run down that bear of yours."