During this operation I had been anxiously scanning the sky, but beyond a few small: and scattered fleeces of cloud here and there, it remained as clear as it had been at sunset; and, having at length adjusted the wheel to my satisfaction, I came to the conclusion that I might safely leave matters as they were until the morning, and secure a little more rest while the opportunity remained to me. I therefore resumed my recumbent position upon the wheel grating, and was soon once more asleep.

This time, however, I slept less soundly than before. The curious instinct of watchfulness even in slumber that is so quickly developed in sailors and others who are constantly exposed to danger was now fully aroused, and although I slept, my senses and faculties were so far on the alert that when, somewhat later, the wind suddenly breezed up in a spiteful squall, I heard the moan of it before it reached the brig, and was broad awake and on my feet in time to put the helm up and keep broad away before it. The wind came away strong enough to make me anxious for the topmasts for a few minutes; but as the yards were braced sharp up, while the brig was running away dead before it, the wind struck the sails very obliquely, and the spars were thus relieved of a great deal of the strain that would otherwise have come upon them.

Of course there was no more sleep for me that night, for when at length the squall had blown itself out it left behind it a strong northerly breeze that very soon knocked up a sea, heavy enough to make me ardently wish for daylight and the opportunity to shorten sail.

And when the dawn at length appeared, I grew more anxious than ever, for the new day showed as a long, ragged gash of fierce, copper-yellow light glaring through a gap in an otherwise unbroken expanse of dirty grey cloud, struck here and there with dashes of dull crimson colour. The air was unnaturally clear, the heads of the surges showing up against the wild yellow of the eastern horizon jet black, and as sharp and clean-cut as those that brimmed to the brig's rail. The aspect of the sky meant wind in plenty, and before long; and I realised that unless I could contrive to shorten sail in double-quick time the task would pass beyond my power, and the canvas would have to remain set until it should blow away.

At length Miss Onslow made her appearance on deck, bright, fresh, and rosy from her night's sleep; and a cry of dismay broke from her lips as she took in the state of affairs at a single comprehensive glance.

"Oh, Mr Conyers!" she exclaimed, "how long has it been like this? Are we in any danger?"

"Only in so far that we stand to lose some of our sails, unless I can contrive to get them clewed up before it comes on to blow any harder," answered I. "I have been waiting for you to come on deck and relieve me at the wheel," I continued, "in order that I may get about the job at once."

"But why did you not call me?" she demanded, as she stepped up on the wheel grating beside me and took the spokes from my hands.

"Oh," said I, "it has not been bad enough to justify me in disturbing you, thus far; nevertheless I am very glad to have your help now, as I believe there is no time to lose. Kindly keep her as she now is, dead before the wind, and I will get about the work of shortening sail without further delay."

So saying, I hurried away forward, letting go the trysail outhaul and the main-topsail halliards on my way; passing next to the fore-topsail halliards, which I also let run. I then squared the yards, hauled in, brailed up and furled the trysail, and next took the reef-tackles, one after the other, to the winch, heaving them as taut as I could get them; after which I jumped aloft, passed the reef earrings, and tied the knittles. We were now tolerably safe—the brig being under close-reefed topsails—so I hove-to while we took breakfast, after which I hauled down and stowed the jib, got the brig away before the wind again, with Miss Onslow at the wheel, and resumed pumping operations.

I toiled all through the day, reducing the amount of water in the hold to a depth of eighteen inches only, and then hove-to the brig on the port tack for the night, both of us being by this time so completely exhausted that rest was even more important to us than food, although I took care that we should not be obliged to go without the latter.

About two hours after sunset the wind freshened up still more, and by midnight it was blowing so heavily, and so mountainous a sea was running, that I dared not any longer leave the brig to herself; it became necessary to constantly tend the helm, although the craft was hove-to; and in consequence I had no alternative but to pass the latter half of this night also at the wheel, exposed to a pelting rain that quickly drenched me to the skin. It was now blowing a whole gale from the northward; and so it continued for the next thirty hours, during nearly the whole of which time I remained at the wheel, wet, cold, and nearly crazy at the last for want of rest; indeed, but for the attention—almost amounting to devotion—of my companion I believe I should never have weathered that terrible time of fatigue and exposure. An end to it came at last, however; the gale broke, the wind softened down somewhat, and at length the sea went down sufficiently to permit of the wheel being once more lashed; when, leaving the brig in Miss Onslow's charge, with strict injunctions that I was at once to be called in the event of a change for the worse in the weather, I went below, rolled into the mate's bunk, and instantly lost all consciousness for the ensuing ten hours. It was somewhere about midnight when I awoke; yet when I turned out I found Miss Onslow still up, and not only so but with a hot and thoroughly appetising meal ready for me. We sat down and partook of it together; and when we had finished I went on deck, had a look round, found that the weather had greatly improved during my long sleep, and so turned in again until morning.

When I next went on deck the weather had cleared, the wind had dwindled to a five-knot breeze—hauling out from the eastward again at the same time—and the sea had gone down to such an extent as to be scarcely perceptible; I therefore shook out my reefs, and once more made sail upon the ship—a task that kept me busy right up to noon. The weather being fine, I was able to secure a meridian altitude of the sun, and thus ascertain the latitude of the brig, with the resulting discovery that we were already to the southward of the Cape parallels. This was disconcerting in the extreme, the more so from the fact that the easterly wind was forcing us still farther to the southward; but there was no help for it, we could do nothing but keep all on as we were and hope for a shift of wind. The fact of our being so far to the southward accounted, too, for the circumstance that we were not falling in with any other vessels.

Hitherto I had been so fully employed that I had found no time to search for the ship's papers, or do more than ascertain the bare fact that she was of American nationality, that she was named the Governor Smeaton, and that she hailed from Portland, Maine; but now that the weather had come fine once more, I determined to devote a few hours to the work of overhauling the vessel and discovering what I could about her. So I went to work and instituted a thoroughly systematic search, beginning in the skipper's cabin—having of course first obtained Miss Onslow's permission—and there, stowed carefully away in a lock-up desk—which, after some hesitation, I decided to break open—I found the ship's papers intact, enclosed in a small tin case. And from these I learned, first, that her late master was named Josiah Hobson, and second, that she was bound on a trading voyage to the Pacific, with a cargo of "notions." Then, in another drawer, also in the skipper's cabin, carefully stowed away under some clothes, I found the log-book, and a chart of the Atlantic Ocean, with the brig's course, up to a certain point, pricked off upon it; and from these two documents I learned that the brig had sailed, on such and such a date, from New York, with what, in the way of weather, progress, and so on, had befallen her, up to a date some five weeks later, whereon entries had been made in the log-book up to noon. The remarks respecting the weather at that hour gave no indication of any warning of the catastrophe that must have occurred only a few hours later. This last entry in the log-book enabled me to determine that the brig had been drifting about derelict for nearly three weeks when we two ocean waifs fell in with and took possession of her. The "notions" of which her cargo consisted seemed, according to the manifest, to comprise more or less of nearly everything that could possibly captivate a savage's fancy; but in addition to these multitudinous articles there were—somewhere in the ship—a few bales of goods—mostly linen, fine muslins, silks, and ready-made clothing— consigned to a firm in Valparaiso, which I believed would be of the utmost value to Miss Onslow and myself, if I could but find them, and which, under the circumstances, I felt I could unhesitatingly appropriate to our use. I therefore determined that my next task should be to search for these bales; which, being composed of rather valuable goods, and destined moreover to be discharged at the brig's first port of call, I thought would probably be found on top of the rest of the cargo and near to one of the hatches.

The next day proved even finer than its predecessor, the wind holding in the same direction but of perhaps a shade less strength than on the day before, while the sea had gone down until the water was smooth as the surface of a pond excepting for the low swell that scarcely ever quite disappears in mid-ocean; it was an ideal day for taking off the hatches, and I therefore determined to commence my examination of the cargo at once, beginning with the main hatch. To knock out the wedges, remove the battens, and roll back the tarpaulin was not a difficult job, and when I had got thus far, the removal of a couple of the hatches was soon effected. Luck was with me that day, for no sooner had I got the hatches off than my eyes fell upon a bale bearing marks which, according to the testimony of the vessel's manifest, showed it to be one of those of which I was in search. It was too large, and was too tightly wedged in among others to admit of my moving it unaided, but with the assistance of a strop on the mainstay, and the watch tackle, I soon broke it out and triumphantly landed it on deck. The manifest gave the contents as ready-made clothing—men's and women's; which was exactly what Miss Onslow at least needed more than anything else; so I opened it forthwith, and then called the young lady to overhaul the contents and select what she would, while I gave her a spell at the wheel. In ten minutes she came aft, with her arms full of neatly-folded white material, and disappeared below. Then she came on deck again, had a further search, and this time carried off a load of coloured fabric; after which she remained invisible for nearly three-quarters of an hour. Finally she reappeared clad in an entirely new rig-out from top to toe; and very sweet and charming she looked, although I regret being unable to inform my female readers of the details of her costume. Then I had my innings, and after a considerable amount of rummaging succeeded in finding a couple of suits of light tweed that I thought would fit me, together with a generous supply of underclothing. This done, and our more pressing needs in the matter of clothing met, I returned the despoiled bale to its place in the hatchway, replaced the hatches, and battened everything securely down once more. The remainder of the day I devoted to the task of pumping the ship dry.

The two succeeding days were quite devoid of incident; the weather held fine, and the wind so light that the brig made barely three knots in the hour, on a taut bowline; there was nothing particular to do, for the small air of wind that continued to blow hung obstinately at east, and we were still driving slowly south, the vessel steering herself. Under these circumstances, as I was daily growing increasingly anxious to fall in with a sail of some sort that would take us off, and convey us to a civilised port, or even lend me a few hands to help in carrying the brig to Cape Town, I spent pretty nearly the whole of the day in the main-topmast crosstrees, from whence I could obtain the most extended view possible, and perhaps be thus able to intercept some craft that would otherwise slip past us unseen.

On the third day after my raid upon the cargo I was aloft as usual—the hour being about ten a.m.,—while Miss Onslow was busy in and out of the galley. The ship was creeping along at a speed of about two and a half knots, when, slowly and carefully sweeping the horizon afresh with the telescope, after a rather long spell of meditation upon how this adventure was likely to end, a small, hazy-looking, ill-defined object swam into the field of the instrument. The object was about one point before the weather beam, and was so far away that the rarefaction of the air imparted to it a wavering indistinctness of aspect that rendered it quite unrecognisable. The fact, however, that it was visible at all in the slightly hazy atmosphere led me to estimate its distance from the brig as about ten miles, while, from its apparent size, it might be either a boat, a raft, or a piece of floating wreckage. But whatever it might be, I determined to examine it, since it would be nothing out of my way, and would merely involve the labour of getting the ship round upon the other tack; so I continued to watch it until it had drifted to a couple of points abaft the beam—which occurred just two and a half hours after I had first sighted it, thus confirming my estimate as to its distance—when I put the helm hard down, lashed it, and then tended the braces as the brig sluggishly came up into the wind and as sluggishly paid off on the starboard tack. When the brig was fairly round, and the helm steadied I found that the object bore a full point on the lee bow, and that we should probably fetch it with ease. It was now distant about ten and a half miles, so there was plenty of time for us to go below and get tiffin ere closing it.

It was within about two hours of sunset when we at length came up with the object; but long ere then I had, with the assistance of the telescope, made it out to be a large boat, apparently a ship's longboat, unrigged, and drifting idly before the wind. Yet her trim, sitting low, as she was, on the water, showed that she was not empty; and at length, when we were within some two miles of her, I suddenly observed a movement of some sort aboard her, and a couple of oars were laid out— with some difficulty, I thought. I was at the wheel when this occurred—for I had discovered, some time earlier in the afternoon, that although, with the wheel lashed, the brig could be made to steer herself fairly well upon a wind, she was just a trifle too erratic in her course to hit off and fetch such a comparatively small object as we were now aiming for, and consequently I had been steering all through the afternoon—but I at once called Miss Onslow to relieve me while I ran the ensign—the stars and stripes—up to the peak, as an encouragement to the occupants of the boat, and an intimation that they had been seen. It was tedious work, our snail-like closing with the boat, and it was rendered all the more so by the fact that those in her, after vainly attempting for some five minutes to use the oars, had given up the effort, and were once more invisible in the bottom of the boat, while the oars, left to take care of themselves, had gradually slid through the rowlocks and gone adrift. This simple circumstance, apparently so trivial, was to me very significant, pointing, as I considered it did, to a condition of such absolute exhaustion on the part of the strangers that even the loss of their oars had become a matter of indifference to them. Who could tell what eternities of suffering these men had endured ere being brought into this condition? It was quite likely that that lonely, drifting boat had been the scene of some ghastly tragedy! Who could tell what sight of horror might be passively awaiting us between the gunwales of the craft? I once more resigned the wheel to Miss Onslow's hand, with strict injunctions to her not to leave it or attempt to get a peep at the interior of the boat, on any account, and then went forward to prepare a rope's-end to drop into her as we drew up alongside. I conned the brig in such a manner as to bring the boat alongside under the lee fore chains, and then, when the proper moment had arrived, let go the weather main braces and swung the topsail aback.

My intention was to have jumped into the boat with a rope's-end, as she came alongside, taking a turn anywhere for the moment; but as, with main-topsail aback, we crept slowly down upon the poor, forlorn-looking waif, a gaunt, unkempt scarecrow suddenly upreared itself in the stern-sheets and, uttering queer, gibbering sounds the while, scrambled forward into the eyes of the boat, with movements that somehow were equally suggestive of the very opposite qualities of agility and exhaustion, and held out its lean, talon-like hands for the rope which I was waiting to heave. As we drifted alongside the boat I hove the rope's-end; the man caught it, and collapsing, rather than stooping, with it, he made it fast to the ring-bolt in the stem. Then, uprearing himself once more, stiffly, and as though fighting against a deadly lethargy, he made a staggering spring for the brig's rail, missed it, and would have fallen headlong backward into the boat had I not caught him by the collar. Heavens! what a skeleton the man was! He was fully as tall as myself, and had all the appearance of having once been a big, brawny Hercules of a fellow, but so wasted was he now that, with scarcely an effort, I with one hand lifted him in over the bulwarks and deposited him on deck, where he again limply doubled up and sank in a heap, groaning. But he kept his eyes fixed upon my face and, stiffly opening his jaws, pointed to his black and shrivelled tongue; and I, at once recognising his condition, ran aft and, taking a tumbler from the pantry, quickly mixed about a wineglassful of weak brandy and water, with which I sped back to him. I shall never forget the horrible expression of mad, wolfish craving that leapt into the unfortunate creature's bloodshot eyes as I approached and bent over him. He glared at the tumbler, and howled like a wild beast; then suddenly snatched at my hand as I held the liquid to his lips, and clung so tightly to me that before I could withdraw the tumbler he had drained it of every drop of its contents. Even then he would not release me, but continued to pull and suck at the empty tumbler for several seconds. At length, however, he let go, groaning "More, more!" This time I mixed a considerable quantity of weak grog in a jug, and took it on deck with me, remembering that there were others in the boat alongside who were also probably perishing of thirst. I administered a further small quantity of the mixture to my patient, and it was marvellous to see the effect of it upon him, his strength seemed to return to him as though by magic, and as he sat up on the deck he muttered, thickly:

"More drink; more drink, for the love of God! I'd sell my soul for a tumbler of the stuff!"

Powerful though the fellow's adjuration was, I refused his request, considering that, after his evidently long abstention, it would do him more harm than good—perhaps kill him, even—to let him drink too freely at first; so, putting the jug and tumbler out of his sight and reach, I turned my attention to the longboat alongside. She was a fine, big, powerful boat, and evidently, from her appearance, had belonged to a large ship. Now that I had time to look at her attentively I saw that her masts and sails were in her, laid fore and aft the thwarts, together with six long oars, or sweeps; she bore, deeply cut in her transom, the words "Black Prince Liverpool"; there were six water breakers in her bottom; and, huddled up in all sorts of attitudes eloquent of extremest suffering, there lay, stretched upon and doubled over the thwarts, and in the bottom of the boat, no less than fifteen men—whether living or dead it was difficult for the moment to say. At all events it was evident that there was no time to be lost, for if the men were not actually dead their lives were hanging by a thread; so, recovering possession of the jug of weak grog and the tumbler, I slid down into the boat and, taking them as they came, wetted the lips of each with a little of the liquid. Some of them were able to swallow it at once, while others had their teeth so tightly clenched that it was impossible to get their jaws apart; but eventually—not to dwell at unnecessary length upon a scene so fraught with lingering, long-drawn-out suffering—I contrived to restore every one of them to consciousness, and to get them aboard the brig, where I spent several hours in attending to them and, with Miss Onslow's assistance, administering food and drink in small quantities until their strength had so far returned to them that there was no longer any danger of their perishing, when I got them below into the forecastle, and left them to rest undisturbed. The next day they were all so far recovered as to be able to move about and even to climb on deck out of the forecastle, unaided; and on the second day seven of them reported themselves fit for such light duty as taking a trick at the wheel, and so on. Among the first to recover were the cook and steward, who at once assumed their proper duties, much to my satisfaction; for necessary as it had hitherto been for me to avail myself of Miss Onslow's assistance, it went sorely against the grain for me to see her day after day performing such mean duties as that of cooking, and it was a great relief to me when I was able to inform her that henceforward she would be relieved of such work.

The unexpected acquisition of these sixteen men, constituting, as they did, a really strong crew for such a small craft as the brig, relieved me of a very heavy load of anxiety; for now I felt that, with a tight and seaworthy vessel under my feet, and a crew that would enable me to handle and take care of her in any weather, there was no reason whatever why my companion and I should not speedily reach Cape Town and the end of our troubles. There was but one thing remaining to occasion me any uneasiness, and that was the fact that the chronometer had run down and stopped during the time that the brig had been drifting about, derelict, and consequently I had no means of ascertaining my longitude—a most awkward predicament to be in, especially when approaching a coast. But, as though Fate were satisfied with what she had already inflicted upon us, and had now relented so completely as to be eager to hasten our deliverance, it happened that on the very day when my new crew reported themselves—as fit for duty, we fell in with a homeward-bound China clipper, from the skipper of whom I obtained our longitude, and was thus enabled to start the chronometer again. The information thus afforded me showed that we were within two hundred and forty miles of the South African capital, or little more than twenty-four hours' run if the wind would but chop round and come fair for us.



CHAPTER EIGHT.

THE CREW TAKE POSSESSION OF THE BRIG.

The process of nursing the rescued men back to health and strength had afforded me an opportunity to learn their story, which, briefly, was to the effect that their ship, the Black Prince, of Liverpool, had sailed from Melbourne for home on such a date, and that all had gone well with them until such another date, when the ship was discovered to be on fire in the fore hold. Every effort had then been made to subdue the flames, but ineffectually, the fire continuing to spread, until, some three hours after the discovery of the outbreak, the flames burst through the deck, when it became apparent that the ship was doomed, and the boats were ordered out. According to the narrative of the men the ship had been abandoned in a perfectly orderly manner, the passengers going away in the cutters and gigs, in charge of the captain and the three mates, while the remaining portion of the crew, for whom room could not be found in these boats, were told off to the longboat. They had remained by the ship until she burned to the water's edge and sank, and then made sail in company, steering a north-west course. Then, on the fourth day, a westerly gale had sprung up, and the boats had become separated. This was supposed to have occurred about a fortnight before we had fallen in with them; but they admitted that they were by no means sure as to this period, for on the twelfth day after abandoning the ship their provisions had become exhausted and they had been subjected to all the horrors of starvation, during the latter portion of which they had lost all account of time.

Having heard their story, it became necessary to tell them my own, which I did in considerable detail, winding up by informing them that, the brig having been found derelict, the salvage money upon her would amount to something very considerable, and that, while by right the whole of it might be claimed by Miss Onslow and myself, we would willingly divide it equally among all hands instead of offering them ordinary wages for their assistance in taking the vessel into port.

I was rather disappointed to observe that this generous offer—as I considered it—evoked no show of enthusiasm or gratitude on the part of my crew; they accepted it quite as a matter of course, and as no more than their due, although they were fully aware that, between us, Miss Onslow and I had already taken care of and sailed the brig for several days, and—barring such an untoward circumstance as a heavy gale of wind—could no doubt have eventually taken her into Table Bay. I said nothing, however, knowing from past experience that forecastle Jack is not overmuch given to a feeling of gratitude—perhaps in too many cases the poor fellow has little or nothing to be grateful for—but proceeded with the business of the vessel by appointing Peter O'Gorman, late boatswain, and John Price, late carpenter, of the Black Prince, to the positions of chief and second mate respectively. This done, the two men named at once picked the watches; the port watch assumed duty, the starboard watch went below, and everybody apparently settled forthwith into his proper place. While the ceremony of picking the watches was proceeding I availed myself of the opportunity thus afforded to take stock of our new associates as a whole, and, after making every allowance for the effects of the hardship and suffering that they had so recently passed through, I was compelled to confess to myself that they were by no means a prepossessing lot; they, one and all, O'Gorman and Price not excepted, wore that sullen, hang-dog, ruffianly expression of countenance that marks the very lowest class of British seamen, the scum and refuse of the vocation. Still, we had not far to go, and I consoled myself with the reflection that they would probably prove good enough to serve my purpose.

On the following morning, immediately after breakfast, I secured a set of observations of the sun for my longitude, Miss Onslow noting the chronometer time for me; and immediately afterwards I descended to the cabin to work them out. While on deck, engaged with the sextant, I had noticed that my movements were being watched with extraordinary interest by the hands on deck, and when, upon my return to the cabin, I proceeded to make my calculations and afterwards prick off the brig's position on the chart, I could not help observing that the steward—who was busying himself in and out of the pantry at the time—betrayed as keen an interest in my doings as any of the people on deck. Miss Onslow was also watching me; and when I had finished and was about to roll up the chart she asked me if I had found out the ship's position, whereupon I pointed it out to her, at the same time casually mentioning the fact that we were still one hundred and eighty miles from Table Bay. As I said this, I saw the steward leave his pantry and go on deck. I thought nothing of it at the time, believing that he had done so in the ordinary course of his duty, but a little later on I had reason to believe that his errand was to inform his shipmates as to the position of the brig.

Having put away the chart, and waited a few minutes for Miss Onslow—who had announced her intention of going on deck—we both made our way up the companion ladder, and took a few turns fore and aft the weather side of the deck, together, from the wheel grating to the wake of the main rigging. My companion was in high spirits at the favourable turn that seemed to have occurred in our affairs, and was chatting with me in animated tones as to what would be best to do upon our arrival in Cape Town, when O'Gorman, who had been forward among the crew, came slouching aft along the deck, in true shell-back fashion, and, with the rather abrupt salutation of "Morning misther; mornin', miss," unceremoniously joined us.

"Well, O'Gorman, what is it?" said I, for I had met and spoken to him several times already on that same morning, and imagined that he now had some matter of ship's business to discuss with me.

"I see you takin' a hobseirwashin just now," he remarked.

"Yes," I answered, finding that he paused as though expecting me to reply.

"D'ye mane to say, thin, that ye're a navigator?" he demanded.

"Certainly I am," I answered, rather testily, my temper rising slightly at what I considered the boorish familiarity of his tone and manner, which I determined to at once check—"what of it, pray?"

"Well, ye see, we didn't know—you didn't tell us yesterday—that you was a navigator," he returned, leering curiously at me out of his eye corners.

"Was there any particular reason why I should inform you that I happen to be a sailor?" I demanded, fast getting really angry at this impertinent inquisition into my qualifications.

"Oh," he retorted, "av coorse we all knew you was a sailor-man; we could see that widout anny tellin'. But a navigator too—bedad, that makes a mighty differ!"

"In what way, pray?" demanded I. "Have you been drinking, this morning, O'Gorman?"

"The divil a dhrop," he returned. And then, before I could say another word, he abruptly turned and walked forward again, saying something to the men on deck as he went, who instantly dropped such work as they were engaged upon, and followed him below into the forecastle.

I was astounded—fairly taken aback—at this extraordinary behaviour, an explanation of which I was determined to demand at once. With this view I turned to Miss Onslow, whose arm was linked in mine, and requested her to kindly excuse me for a moment.

"No," said she, "I will not. I know perfectly well what that glitter in your eye means: you are angry at that sailor's impertinence, and mean to give him a well-deserved reprimand. But I would rather that you did nothing of the kind, please; the man knows no better; and I do not suppose he really meant to be rude at all. But I confess I do not like the expression of his face: there is a mixture of low cunning, obstinacy, and cruel brutality in it that renders his appearance dreadfully repulsive; so please oblige me by taking no notice whatever of his behaviour."

There was a certain subtle flattery in the apparent inconsequence of my companion's last few words that made them peculiarly acceptable to me; but discipline is discipline, and must be maintained, at all hazards, even when a crew has been picked up in such irregular fashion as mine had been; and I was determined to at once impress upon this Irish ruffian the fact that I was skipper of the brig, and that I intended to exact from him the respect and deference of manner due to the position. So I said to my companion:

"I have no doubt you are perfectly right in your estimate of the man's intentions; but he was altogether too insolent of manner to please me, and he must be taught better; moreover, I wish to ascertain precisely what he meant by the remark that my being a navigator made 'a mighty differ.' So please allow me to go forward and put these little matters right. I shall not be gone longer than five minutes, at the utmost."

"I will not consent to your going, just now, even for five seconds," answered Miss Onslow, with quiet determination. "You are just angry enough to use the first words that may rise to your lips, without pausing to consider whether they happen or not to be offensive, and I am sure that is not a safe temper in which to engage in an altercation with that man. He is insolent, insubordinate, and altogether a most dangerous man to deal with—one can tell that by merely glancing at his eyes—and I have a firm conviction that if you were perchance to offend him, he would without compunction stab you, or do you some other dreadful injury—perhaps kill you outright. Therefore,"—with a most ravishing smile, and a tightening of her grip upon my arm—"you will be pleased to consider yourself as my prisoner for the present."

"And a most willing prisoner, too—at any other time," answered I, with an attempt to fall in with the playful mood in which she had spoken the last words, while yet my anger was rising, and my anxiety increasing, as I noted the continued absence of the men from the deck. "But at this moment," I continued, "I have no option; that fellow O'Gorman must be brought to book at once, or my authority will be gone for ever; and that would never do; the others would only too probably take their cue from him, and become insolent and insubordinate in their turn, and there is no knowing what excesses they might in that case commit!"

My companion turned pale as she at length realised that it was something more that mere anger springing from my wounded dignity that was moving me; she gazed anxiously into my eyes for a moment, and then said:

"Have you any weapons of any kind?"

"None but these," I answered, indicating by a glance my doubled fists; "and, in case of need, a belaying-pin snatched from the rail. But," I added cheerfully, "there is no need for weapons in this case; I shall but have to firmly assert my authority, and the fellow will be brought to his bearings forthwith."

"I wish I could think so!" exclaimed Miss Onslow earnestly. "But, somehow, I cannot; I utterly distrust the man; it is not only his appearance but his behaviour also that is against him. He is a sailor, and, as such, must know perfectly well what respect is due to a captain; and I cannot think he was ever allowed to behave to his former captain as he just now behaved to you. I have a presentiment that he means mischief of some kind. And see, too, what influence he appears to possess over the rest of the men."

"Precisely," I agreed. "You see you are coming rapidly round to my view of his conduct; and therefore I think you will agree with me as to the immediate necessity for me to assert myself."

"Yes," she assented—"if you can do so effectively. But you must not go among those men unarmed. They have their knives; but you have nothing. Let us go downstairs and see if we cannot find a pistol, or something, in one or the other of our cabins. I have never yet thoroughly searched my cabin, to see what it contains."

"I have searched mine," said I, "and have found no weapon of any kind; but—ah, there is O'Gorman, now coming out of the forecastle—and the rest of the men following him. And, by Jove! they are coming aft! You are right, there is something in the wind. Kindly go below for a few minutes, until the discussion which I foresee has come to an end."

"No, indeed, I will not," whispered my companion, as she strengthened her hold upon my arm; "I will remain here with you, whatever happens. They will never be such despicable cowards as to use violence in the presence of a woman."

There was no time to say more, for O'Gorman, with all hands excepting the man at the wheel behind him, was now within hearing distance of us. I looked him squarely in the eye, and at once braced myself for conflict; for there was a sullen, furtive, dogged expression in his gaze, as he vainly attempted to unflinchingly meet mine, that boded mischief, although of what precise nature I could not, for the life of me, guess.

He so obviously had something to say, and was, moreover, so obviously the spokesman for all hands, that I waited for him to begin, determined to take my cue from him rather than, by speaking first, afford him the opportunity of taking his cue from me. He shifted his weight, uneasily, from leg to leg, two or three times, glanced uncomfortably from Miss Onslow's face to mine, removed a large quid of tobacco from his cheek and carefully deposited it in his cap, and betrayed many other symptoms of extreme awkwardness and perturbation of mind for a full minute or more without discovering a way of saying what he had to say; and so uncouthly ridiculous an exhibition did he make of himself that presently I detected a tremor of repressed laughter in the pressure of my companion's hand upon my arm, and a second or two later the young lady's risibility so far mastered her that she felt constrained to bury her face in her pocket-handkerchief under pretence of being troubled with a sudden fit of coughing.

O'Gorman, however, was not to be so easily deceived; he at once observed the convulsion and recognised it for what it was, and the circumstance that he had excited the mirth of a girl seemed to sting him into action, for he suddenly straightened himself up and, with a vindictive glare at Miss Onslow, exclaimed:

"Ah! so ye're laughin' at me, eh? All right, my beauty; laugh away! Yell laugh the other side ov y'r purty face afore long!"

"O'Gorman!" I exclaimed fiercely, advancing a step or two toward him and dragging Miss Onslow after me as she tenaciously clung to my arm. "What do you mean, sir? How dare you address yourself to this lady in such an insolent fashion? Take care what you are about, sir, or I may find it very necessary to teach you a lesson in good manners. What do you want? Why do you stand there staring at me like an idiot? If you have anything to say, please say it at once, and get about your duty."

"Oho, bedad, just listen to him!" exclaimed the fellow, now thoroughly aroused. "Get about me juty, is it? By the powers! but there's others as'll soon find that they'll have to get about their juty, as well as me!"

I was by this time brought to the end of my patience; I was in a boiling passion, and would have sprung upon the man there and then, had not Miss Onslow so strenuously resisted my efforts to release myself from her hold that I found it impossible to do so without the exercise of actual violence. At this moment one of the men behind O'Gorman interposed by muttering:—loud enough, however, for me to hear:

"Don't be a fool, Pete, man! Keep a civil tongue in your head, can't you; you'll make a mess of the whole business if you don't mind your weather eye! What's the good of bein' oncivil to the gent, eh? That ain't the way to work the traverse! Tell him what we wants, and let's get the job over."

Thus adjured, O'Gorman pulled himself together and remarked, half—as it seemed—in response to the seaman, and half to me:

"We wants a manny things. And the first ov thim is: How fur are we from Table Bay?"

"Well," answered I, "if it will afford you any satisfaction to know it, I have no objection to inform you that we are just one hundred and eighty miles from it."

"And how fur may we be from the Horn?" now demanded O'Gorman.

"The Horn?" I exclaimed. "What has the Horn to do with us, or we with the Horn?"

"Why, a precious sight more than you seem to think, mister," retorted the man, with a swift recurrence to his former insolent, bullying manner. "The fact is," he continued, without allowing me time to speak, "we're bound round the Horn; we mean you to take us there; and we want to know how long it'll be afore we get there."

"My good fellow," said I, "you don't know what you are talking about. We are bound to Table Bay, and to Table Bay we go, or I will know the reason why. You may go round the Horn, or to the devil, afterwards, and welcome, so far as I am concerned."

"Shtop a bit, and go aisy," retorted O'Gorman; "it's yoursilf that doesn't know what you're talkin' about. I said we're goin' round the Horn, didn't I? Very well; I repait it, we're goin' round the Horn—in this brig—and I'd like to know where's the man that'll purvent us."

"Ah! I think I now understand you," said I, with an involuntary shudder of horror as the scoundrel's meaning at last burst upon me, and I thought of the dainty, delicately-nurtured girl by my side; "we picked you up, and saved your lives; and now you are about to repay our kindness by turning pirates and taking the ship from us. Is that it?"

"By the piper! ye couldn't have guessed it thruer if ye'd been guessin' all day," answered O'Gorman coolly.

"My lads," exclaimed I, appealing to the group of seamen standing behind the Irishman, "is this true? Is it possible that you really contemplate repaying this lady and myself for what we have done for you, with such barbarous ingratitude?"

The men shuffled uneasily, looked at one another, as though each hoped that his fellow would accept the invidious task of replying to my question; and presently Price, the carpenter, spoke:

"Ay, sir; it is true. We are sorry if it is not to your liking, but we have very particular business in the Pacific, and there we must go. This is just our chance; we shall never have a better; and we should be fools if we did not take it, now that it has come in our way."

"Very well," said I bitterly; "you are sixteen men, while I am one only; if you are absolutely resolved to perpetrate this act of monstrous ingratitude I cannot prevent you. But I positively refuse to help you in any way whatever—you have no power or means to compel me to do that—so the best plan will be for us to part; this lady and I will take the boat, with sufficient provisions and water to enable us to reach Table Bay, and you may find your way round the Horn as best you can."

O'Gorman simply laughed in my face.

"Take the boat, is it?" he exclaimed, with a loud guffaw. "Oh no, misther; that won't do at all at all. We shall want the boat for ourselves. And we shall want your help, too, to navigate the brig for us, and we mane to have it, begor'ra!"

"I fail to see how you are going to compel me to do anything that I may resolve not to do," retorted I, putting a bold face upon the matter, yet momentarily realising more clearly how completely we were in their hands, and at their mercy.

"You do?" exclaimed O'Gorman; "then wait till I tell ye. If ye don't consint to do as we want ye to, we'll just rig up a bit of a raft, and send ye adrift upon her—alone; d'ye understand me, misther—alone!"

"No," interposed Miss Onslow, "you shall do nothing of the kind, you cowardly wretches; where Mr Conyers goes, I go also, even if it should be overboard, with no raft to float us."

"Oh no, my purty," answered O'Gorman, with the leer of a satyr, "we'd take moighty good care you didn't do that. If Misther Conyers won't be obligin', why, we'll have to spare him, I s'pose; but we couldn't do widout you, my dear; what'd we do—"

I could bear no more. "Silence, you blackguard!" I shouted, while vainly striving to shake off Miss Onslow's tenacious hold upon my arm, that I might get within striking reach of him—"silence! How dare you address a helpless, defenceless woman in that insulting manner? What do you expect to gain by it? Address yourself exclusively to me, if you please."

"Wid all me heart," answered O'Gorman, in nowise offended by my abuse of him. "I simply spoke to the lady because she spoke first. And bedad, it's glad I am she did, because it's give me the opporchunity to show ye how we mane to convart ye to our views. Navigate the brig for us, and ye'll nayther of ye have any cause to complain of bad tratement from anny of us: refuse, and away ye goes adhrift on a raft, while the lady 'll stay and kape us company."

To say that I was mad with indignation at this ruffian's gross behaviour but feebly expresses my mental condition; to such a state of fury was I stirred that but for the restraining hold of the fair girl upon my arm— from which she by no means suffered me to breakaway—I should most assuredly have "run amok" among the mutineers, and in all probability have been killed by them in self-defence; as it was, my anger and the bitterly humiliating conviction of my utter helplessness so nearly overcame me that I was seized with an attack of giddiness that caused everything upon which my eyes rested to become blurred and indistinct, and to whirl hither and thither in a most distracting fashion, while I seemed to lose the control of my tongue, so that when I essayed to speak I found it impossible to utter a single intelligible word; moreover, I must have been on the very verge of becoming unconscious, from the violence of my agitation, for I had precisely the same feeling that one experiences when dreaming—a sensation of vagueness and unreality as to what was transpiring, so that, when Miss Onslow spoke, her voice sounded faint and far away, and her words, although I heard them distinctly, conveyed no special significance to my comprehension.

"Mr Conyers will acquaint you with his decision in due time, when he has had leisure for reflection," said she, in those haughtily scornful tones of hers that I remembered so well. Then I felt and yielded to the pressure of her guiding hand, and presently found myself groping my way, with her assistance, down the companion ladder and into the cabin. She guided me to one of the sofa-lockers, upon which I mechanically seated myself; and then I saw her go to the swinging rack and pour out a good stiff modicum of brandy, which she brought and held to my lips. I swallowed the draught, and after a few seconds my senses returned to me, almost as though I were recovering from a swoon, Miss Onslow assisting my recovery by seating herself beside me and fanning me with her pocket-handkerchief, gazing anxiously in my face the while.

"There, you are better now!" she exclaimed encouragingly, as she continued to regard me. "Oh, Mr Conyers," she continued, "I am so very sorry to see you thus. But I am not surprised, after all the hardship, and anxiety, and hard work that you have been called upon to endure since the wreck of the unfortunate City of Cawnpore. What you have so bravely borne has been more than sufficient to undermine the health of the strongest man; and now, when we hoped that a few hours more would bring us to the end of our troubles, comes the cruel shock and disappointment of these wretches' base ingratitude to complete what hardship, anxiety, and suffering have begun. But cheer up; all is not yet lost, by any means; our deliverance is merely deferred until you shall have carried out the wishes of these men; therefore, since we have no alternative, let us accept the inevitable with a good grace—do what they require as speedily as may be, and so bring this unfortunate adventure to an end. And," she continued, after a barely perceptible pause, "have no anxiety on my account; O'Gorman and his accomplices will not molest me if you will but conform to their wishes. And, if they should, I shall be prepared for them: 'Fore-warned is fore-armed'!"

You may imagine how deeply ashamed of myself and of my late weakness I felt as I listened to the heroic words of this delicately-nurtured girl, who had known nothing either of danger, privation, or hardship until this frightful experience of all three had come to her with the wreck of the ship which was to have conveyed her to her father's arms. Yet terrible as her situation was, she uttered no word of repining, her courage was immeasurably superior to mine; her sympathy was all for me; there was no apprehension on her own behalf; and now, at the moment when a new and dreadful trouble had come upon the top of all that we had previously undergone, when our brightest hopes were dashed to the ground, it was she who found it needful to encourage me, instead of I having to comfort and encourage her!

Nor would she permit me to suffer the humiliation of having proved less strong than herself; at the first word of apology and self-condemnation that I uttered she silenced me by laying the whole blame upon the anxiety and fatigue to which I had been of late exposed; and when at length she had salved the wound inflicted upon my self-esteem by my recent loss of self-control, she set about the task of coaxing me to yield with at least an apparent good grace to the demands of the men— seeing that we were completely in their power, and could do no otherwise—in order that we might secure such full measure of good treatment from them as they might be disposed to accord to us. And so convincingly did she argue that, despite my reluctance to acknowledge myself conquered, I at length gave in; being influenced chiefly thereto, not by Miss Onslow's arguments, but by the galling conviction that in this way only could I hope to save her from the violence with which the scoundrels had almost openly threatened her in the event of my non-compliance.

This matter settled, I went on deck, where I found the entire crew congregated about the binnacle, awaiting me. They watched my approach in silence—and, as I thought, with ill-concealed anxiety—until I was within two paces of the group, when I halted, regarding them steadfastly. By this time I had completely recovered the command of my temper, and my self-possession; and as I noted their anxious looks I began to realise that, after all, these fellows were by no means so independent of me that they would be likely to wantonly provoke me; and I resolved to bring that point well home to them, with the view of driving the most advantageous bargain possible.

"Well, men," said I, "I have considered your proposal;—and have come to the conclusion that I will accede to it—upon certain conditions which I will set forth in due course. But, first of all, I should like to know what you would have done supposing I had not happened to have been a navigator?"

The rest of the men looked at O'Gorman, and he replied:

"Oh, you'd just have had to join us, or have gone overboard."

"Yes," said I. "And what then? How would you have managed without anyone to have navigated the ship for you?"

"We should ha' had to ha' done the best we could," replied Price nonchalantly.

"To what part of the Pacific are you bound?" asked I.

"To an oiland in latichood—" began O'Gorman.

"To an island?" I interrupted. "And do you think you would ever have succeeded in finding that island without the assistance of a navigator? Do you think you would ever have reached the Pacific at all? By what means would you ascertain your whereabouts and avoid dangers?" I demanded.

There was a long silence, which Price at length broke by replying:

"Oh, we'd ha' managed somehow."

"Yes," said I, "you would have managed somehow—for a few days, or weeks, as the case might be; at the end of which time you would either have run your ship ashore, and lost her; or you would have found yourselves hopelessly out of your reckoning, with no knowledge of where you were, or how to steer in order to reach your destination."

Nobody attempted to reply to this, all hands evidently realising the truth of what I had said, and pondering upon it. At length, however, when the silence had grown embarrassing, O'Gorman broke it, by asking— in a much more civil tone than he had yet chosen to adopt with me:

"Well, misther, allowin' all this to be thrue, what of it?"

"Nothing, except that before propounding the conditions upon which I am willing to agree to your proposal, I wished to make it perfectly clear to you all that you can do absolutely nothing without my help," said I. "You have chosen to adopt a very domineering and offensive tone with me, under the evident impression that the young lady and myself are completely at your mercy. And so we are, I willingly admit, but not to the extent that you seem to suppose; because, if you will reflect for a moment, you will see that you dare not murder, or even ill-treat me, or the young lady. Here we are, in the South Atlantic, and not a man among you all possesses knowledge enough to take this brig from where she now floats to a port; hence you are as much at my mercy as I am at yours. You can do absolutely nothing without me. Therefore, if you require my assistance you must agree to my terms."

"Very well, sorr," answered O'Gorman; "let's hear what thim terms are."

"In the first place," said I, "you will all treat the lady with the utmost respect, no one presuming to speak to her except in reply to any remark which she may be pleased to make."

"I shan't agree to that," shouted Price aggressively. "We're all goin' to be equal, here, now; and if I feel like speakin' to the gal, I shall speak to her, and I'd like to know who'll stop me."

"Oh, shut up, Chips, cawn't ye!" exclaimed one of the other men—a Cockney, if his tongue did not belie him, "shut up, and stow that 'equality' yarn of yours. We've all heard that before, and I, for one, don't believe in it; it's all very well among a lot o' sailor-men like ourselves, but you'll never be the equal of the lidy—no, nor of the gent neither—not if you was to live to be as old as Mathusalem; so what good would it do you to talk to her? Why, she wouldn't look at an old tarry-breeches like you or me, much less talk to us! Garn! You go ahead, sir; we'll look awfter Chips, and keep him in order; never fear!"

"I hope you will, for your own sakes," I retorted significantly, leaving them to interpret my meaning as they chose. "My next condition," I continued, "is that the cabin and the staterooms are to be left to the exclusive use of the lady and myself, the steward only being allowed access to them.

"My next condition is that no man shall have more than two gills of rum per day—half to be served out at midday, and the remainder at four bells of the first dog-watch. In the event of bad weather, or other especial circumstances, the allowance may be increased at my discretion, and by so much as I may consider necessary.

"And my last condition is that when this business is concluded, the lady and I are to be allowed to take the boat, with a sufficient stock of provisions and water, and to quit the ship within sight of some suitable harbour, to be chosen by myself."

A dead silence followed this bold announcement on my part, which was at length broken by O'Gorman, who, looking round upon his motley crowd of followers, demanded:

"Well, bhoys, you've heard what the gintleman says. Have anny of ye annything to say agin it?"

"Yes; I have," answered the irrepressible Price. "I don't care a ropeyarn whether I'm allowed to speak to the gal or not; but I thinks that O'Gorman and me, seein' that we're to be the mates of this here hooker, ought to berth aft, and to take our meals in the cabin; and I'm for havin' our rights."

"You will do neither the one nor the other, with my consent, Price, I assure you," said I. "And unless my conditions are absolutely complied with I shall decline to help you in any way."

"Oh, you will, eh?" sneered Price. "You'd better not, though, because I dessay we could soon find a way to bring ye round to our way of thinkin'. We could stop your grub, for instance, and starve ye until you was willin' to do what was wanted. And if that didn't do, why there's the—"

"Stop!" I exclaimed fiercely, "I have had enough, and more than enough, of threats, my man, and will listen to them no further. Now, understand me, all of you. I have stated the conditions upon which I will meet your wishes, and I will not abate one jot of them. Agree to them or not, as you please. You have taken the ship from me, and now you may do as you will with her; but, make no mistake, I will only help you of my own free will; I would rather kill the young lady and myself with my own hand than submit to compulsion from a crowd of mutineers. Take your own time to decide; I am in no hurry."

"Why, he defies us!" exclaimed Price, turning to his companions. "What d'ye say, boys, shall we give him a lesson? Shall us show him that we're his masters?"

"No, mate, we shan't," interposed the fellow who had spoken before; "and if you don't stop your gab about 'lessons' and 'masters' I'll see if I cawn't stop it for you. What we want, mates, is to get to that island that O'Gorman has told us so much about; and here is a gent who can take us to it. What do we want more? Do we want to grub in the cabin? Ain't the fo'k'sle good enough for us, who've lived in fo'k'sles all our lives? Very well, then, let's agree to the gent's terms, and have done with it. What d'ye s'y?"

It soon appeared that the entire party were willing—Price, however, consenting under protest;—so I retired to the cabin and drew up the terms in writing, together with an acknowledgment on the part of the crew that they had taken the ship from me by force, and that I was acting as navigator under compulsion; and this the entire party more or less reluctantly signed—or affixed their mark to—Miss Onslow acting as witness to the signatures of the men. This done, with bitter chagrin and profound misgiving as to the issue of the adventure, I gave the order to wear ship, and we bore up on a course that pointed the brig's jib-boom straight for the far-distant Cape of Storms.



CHAPTER NINE.

WE SIGHT A STRANGE SAIL.

Having secured possession of the brig, and succeeded in coercing me to become their navigator to some island in the Pacific, the locality of which they had as yet kept secret, upon an errand the nature of which they had not seen fit to divulge to me, the crew at once went industriously to work, under O'Gorman, to put the vessel all ataunto once more, by routing out and sending aloft spare topgallant-masts and yards, bending new sails, overhauling and making good the rigging, and, in short, repairing all damage of every description; and with such goodwill did they work that in ten days from the date of their seizure of the brig everything had been done that it was possible to do, and, so far as the outward appearance of the craft was concerned, there was nothing to show that anything had ever been wrong with her.

Meanwhile, during the progress of this renovating process, the steward had made it his business to give the lazarette a thorough stock-taking overhaul, of the result of which I was kept ignorant. But I gathered that the examination was not altogether satisfactory; for when it was over, and the steward had made his report to O'Gorman, the latter came to me and anxiously demanded to know what our distance then was from the Horn. This was on the afternoon of the third day after the seizure of the brig, and upon carefully measuring off the distance from our position at noon on that day, I found that it amounted to three thousand seven hundred and some odd miles. The distance seemed to be a staggerer to the fellow, and when, in reply to a further question, I informed him that he might reckon upon the brig taking nearly or quite a month to cover it, he made no attempt to conceal his dismay. That something was radically wrong at once became apparent, for there were long conclaves in the forecastle, the object of which, presumably, was to determine how to meet the emergency. I shrewdly suspected that this emergency arose out of the unexpected discovery that the brig's stock of provisions, or water, or both, was insufficient to carry us to our destination; and I fervently hoped that my conjecture might prove correct, as in that case we should be compelled to touch somewhere to renew our stock; and I felt that if in such a case I failed to secure the arrest of the whole party for piracy I should richly deserve to remain their tool, exposed to the countless vacillating and dangerous humours of a gang of ruffians who had deliberately thrown off every restraint of law and order.

But, in speculating thus, I was reckoning without my hosts; I was crediting O'Gorman and his satellites with scruples that they did not possess. I had not yet fully gauged the villainy of which they were capable.

Thus far, ever since we had borne up for the Horn, we had been favoured with a fair wind, and plenty of it; but on the second day after the occurrence of the above events the wind began to fail us, and by sunset that night it had dwindled away until the brig had barely steerage-way, while the surface of the ocean presented that streaky, oily appearance that is usually the precursor of a flat calm. Meanwhile, during the afternoon, a sail had hove in sight in the north-western board, steering south-east; and when the sun went down in a clear haze of ruddy gold, the sails of the stranger, reddened by the last beams of the luminary, glowed against the clear opal tints of the north-western sky at a distance of some eight miles, broad on our starboard bow.

The stranger was a barque-rigged vessel of some three hundred and fifty tons or so: quite an ordinary, everyday-looking craft, with nothing whatever of an alarming character in her aspect; yet she had not long been in sight when it became quite apparent that O'Gorman and his crew were greatly exercised at her appearance; and I was at first disposed to imagine that their emotion arose from the circumstance of their being fully aware that, in seizing the brig, as they had done, they had committed an act of piracy, and that they now feared detection and its attendant unpleasant consequences. But by sunset I had found occasion to alter my opinion, for it had by then become evident that O'Gorman was manoeuvring, not to avoid but to close with the stranger in such a manner as to avoid arousing any suspicion as to his design!

No sooner did this intention of O'Gorman's become apparent than I began to ask myself what could be his motive for such a course; and the only satisfactory reply that I could find to such a question was that he wished to ascertain whether her skipper had any provisions to spare, and, if so, to endeavour to treat with him for their purchase—I had by this time seen enough of O'Gorman to recognise that he was quite acute enough to discern the advantage and safety which such a transaction would afford him over the alternative of being compelled to touch at some port, and I had little doubt that my surmise as to his intentions would prove correct. At all events, his determination to speak the barque was evident, and I began to cast about for some means whereby the encounter might be utilised to the advantage of Miss Onslow and myself.

There were two or three ways in which we might possibly be benefited by the incident, if only I could contrive to establish private communication with the skipper of the stranger. In the first place, if the barque happened to be British—of which, however, I had my doubts—I might make her skipper acquainted with all the circumstances relating to the brig's seizure, and appeal to him to compel the Irishman and his gang—by force, if necessary—to surrender Miss Onslow and myself. Or, if that should prove impossible, I might perhaps be able to secure Miss Onslow's transfer to the stranger, when—her safety having been assured—it would matter comparatively little what happened to myself. Or—in the event of both these schemes failing—I might possibly succeed in privately arranging with the skipper to acquaint the authorities with our predicament and request them to take the necessary steps to effect our rescue.

One or another of these plans I might perhaps succeed in putting into effect, provided that the Irishman should prove careless and neglectful enough to permit of my communicating with the skipper of the barque. But would he be so? I very much doubted it. Yet I could but try; and if, as I anticipated, I should find it impossible to obtain private speech with the skipper of the barque, I might still be able to surreptitiously convey to him a letter which would serve my purpose quite as well.

Meditating thus, I made my way below to the brig's snug little cabin, with the intention of forthwith inditing my epistle, and there I found Miss Onslow, seated upon one of the lockers, ostensibly engaged in reading, but with her beautiful eyes fixed upon the gently-swaying lamp that hung in the skylight, with a dreamy, absent look in them that showed her thoughts to be far away.

"Do you happen to know whether the steward is in his pantry, Miss. Onslow?" I asked, with a glance in the direction of the apartment named, as I entered the cabin.

"No; he is not there; he went on deck nearly an hour ago," she replied. "Do you want anything, Mr Conyers?"

"Nothing more at present than a few minutes' privacy and freedom from espionage," I answered. "Listen, Miss Onslow," I continued, "I have been engaged for the last two hours in quietly observing the manoeuvres of O'Gorman, and I have come to the conclusion that he intends to close with and speak the barque that has been in sight all the afternoon. Now, such a proceeding may, or may not, be to our advantage. If I can succeed in effecting communication with her skipper, it may be possible for us to accomplish one of three things: First, we may, with the assistance of the barque's crew, be enabled to effect our escape from these people altogether. Or, if that should prove impracticable, we may possibly be enabled to secure your transfer to the barque. Or, if that attempt also should fail, we surely ought to be able, with the help of the barque's people, to communicate with the authorities ashore, and claim from them rescue from our present precarious and exceedingly unpleasant situation."

"Y-e-es," my companion assented meditatively. Then, after a slight pause, she asked:

"Have you ever thought of what the end of this adventure is likely to be, so far as we two are concerned, supposing that we should fail to effect our escape from O'Gorman and his companions?"

"Certainly, the matter is never absent from my thoughts," I answered. "We are bound—upon what I cannot help thinking a fool's errand—to some island in the Pacific, upon which O'Gorman and his party expect to find a certain treasure. This treasure they either will or will not find; but in either case I anticipate that, so far as we are concerned, the adventure will end in our being landed somewhere at a sufficient distance from a town to permit of O'Gorman getting clear away with the brig before we should have time to give the alarm and secure his capture."

"That, of course, is assuming that you carry out these men's wishes, without giving them any trouble," commented Miss Onslow. "But," she continued, "what, do you imagine, is likely to be the result—the effect upon us both—if you cause them trouble and anxiety by endeavouring to escape? They have made it perfectly evident to you that they cannot dispense with your services. Do you really think it worth our while to irritate and provoke them by attempting to escape? True, they are exceedingly unpleasant people to be brought into such close and constant contact with, but there seems to be no great harm in them, provided that they are allowed to have their own way."

"Ah!" I exclaimed, "you evidently do not know of what a ship's crew may become capable when once they have committed so serious a crime as piracy—for that is what they have done in taking this brig from me. It is not what these men are, now, but what they may become in the future, of which I am thinking, especially so far as you are concerned. I recognise possibilities in the future that may make this brig the scene of hourly peril to you of a nature that I shudder to think of, and it is your safety that I am concerned about; that assured, I could face the rest with equanimity."

"Thank you. It is exceedingly good and kind of you to think so much for me, and so little for yourself," answered my companion. She spoke with her face turned away from me, so that I was unable to read its expression, and her voice had an intonation that I would have given much to have been able to translate. Was it merely my imagination—I asked myself—or was there really a recurrent shade of her former hauteur of manner, mingled with just the faintest suggestion of irony and impatience? The fact is that I was at that moment as far from being able to comprehend this lovely but inscrutable woman as when I met her for the first time in the saloon of the City of Cawnpore: her moods were as changeable as the weather: there were occasions when her manner toward me was almost as warm and genial and sympathetic as even a lover could require; while there were others when she appeared animated by a set purpose to impress upon me the conviction that our remarkable adventure together invested me with no claim whatever upon her beyond that of the merest ordinary gratitude. As for me, if I have not already allowed the fact to leak out, I may as well here make a clean breast of it and confess that I loved her with all the ardent passion of which a man's heart is capable, and I was resolutely determined to win her love in return; but up to the moment of which I am now speaking I seemed to have made so little headway that I often doubted whether I had made any at all. I had, however, come at length to recognise that the rebuffs I occasionally met with followed some speech or action of mine of which the young lady did not wholly approve; and so I soon found it to be in the present instance. She remained silent for perhaps half a minute after speaking the words the recounting of which has extorted from me the above explanation, and then continued, with much greater cordiality:

"Believe me, Mr Conyers, I am sincerely grateful to you for your perfectly evident anxiety on my account; but I am obliged to confess that I do not regard our situation as nearly so desperate as you seem to do; I do not think that either of us will have anything to fear from O'Gorman and his companions if you will but reconcile yourself to the performance of the task that they have imposed upon you. What I do really fear is what may happen if you wilfully exasperate them by making any attempt to thwart their plans by depriving them of your assistance— without which, I would remind you again, they can do nothing. Help them to carry through their undertaking—never mind whether or not it be a fool's errand—and I have every confidence that they will treat us with the utmost consideration, after their own rough fashion; but seriously provoke them, and, I ask you, what are likely to be the consequences to us both? Of course if you can so contrive it that we can both be rescued by the ship in sight, I shall be more delighted than I can say; but as to your attempting to get me transferred to her alone—you will think it strange, unaccountable, perhaps, but I feel so very much more safe here, with you to protect me, than I should on board the strange ship, alone, that if you are to remain here I would very much rather remain with you."

Words calculated to send the blood of an ardent lover throbbing through his veins like quicksilver, are they not? Yet they excited not one atom of jubilation in me, for they were uttered in a tone of such coldness and indifference that I felt as certain as I could be of anything that it was wholly of herself, and not at all of me, that the speaker was thinking.

"Very well," I answered, steeling myself to the adoption of an equally cold manner of speech; "I think I understand your wishes in this matter, and will endeavour to carry them out; if the strangers yonder can be induced to take us both out of the hands of these ruffians, well and good; if not, I am to take no other steps?"

She bowed acquiescence, and turned to her book once more, with a manner indicating that the discussion was at an end; and I, accepting the hint, retired at once to my cabin to prepare a letter addressed to the skipper of the stranger, to be conveyed to him if opportunity should permit.

But although I had yielded a seeming acquiescence to Miss Onslow's misguided wish to share my captivity—should it be continued—aboard the brig, it must not be supposed that I had any intention of lending myself to so terribly dangerous and mistaken a proceeding. It was perfectly clear to me that the high-spirited girl had, in some unaccountable way, completely missed the point of my remarks, and utterly failed to comprehend the frightfully precarious and perilous character of her position aboard the brig; moreover, her mere presence there served O'Gorman as a lever and a menace powerful enough to constrain me irresistibly to the most abject submission to his will; so long as she remained where she was, in the power of these ruffians, I could do absolutely nothing, for fear of what they might inflict upon her by way of revenge; but with her removed from their power, and placed in safety, I might possibly be able to bring every one of the wretches into the grip of the law that they had so audaciously defied. And so, when I began to pen my letter to the unknown skipper, I was careful—after briefly describing our peculiar situation—to appeal to him, as powerfully as I could, to effect the rescue of the girl by any means at his command, regardless of what might become of me.

Having at length finished my letter, I folded it up into a suitably small and compact form, placed it by itself in one of my pockets, in readiness to transfer it at the first favourable opportunity to the individual for whom it was intended, and then, filling my pipe, made my way leisurely up on deck to take a look round and see in what direction matters were trending.

It was a magnificently fine and brilliant moon-lit night, with only a few small, scattered shreds of light fleecy cloud floating overhead, and a soft, warm air breathing out from the north-east so gently that it scarcely stirred the oil-smooth surface of the ocean, which indeed it only touched here and there in faint, evanescent cat's-paws that barely sufficed to give the brig steerage-way with squared yards and every possible inch of canvas spread. As for the barque, she was now about a point on the starboard bow, not more than a mile distant, and was evidently not under command, as she had swung round head to wind, and lay there in the bright moonlight swaying with an almost imperceptible swing over the long, low hummocks of glassy swell, with her canvas— gleaming softly and spectrally under the showering moonbeams. All hands—O'Gorman included—except the man at the wheel, were on the forecastle-head, intently watching her, and talking eagerly together, so I had a good opportunity to take a leisurely survey of her, and draw my conclusions as to her nationality. I went to the companion, secured the night-glass, and took a good look at her; with the result that I concluded her to be of French or Italian nationality—rather an awkward and unexpected development for me, I having foolishly taken it for granted that she would prove to be British and written my letter in English accordingly. And yet, perhaps, if my surmise should prove to be correct, I might be afforded a better opportunity to make an effective appeal for assistance than if the craft were British, for I gravely doubted whether O'Gorman or any of his people spoke French or Italian, and if that were the case they would probably require me to act as interpreter for them, and thus afford me just such an opportunity as I desired. On the other hand, I could not but feel that an appeal for help, made to a French or an Italian crew, was much less likely to meet with a favourable response than if made to a crew of Britons.

These reflections passed through my mind as I stood peering through the tube at the becalmed barque; it did not need a very prolonged scrutiny to enable me to learn all that was possible of her at that distance, and presently I replaced the glass in its beckets, and proceeded to saunter fore and aft the deck, from the wake of the main rigging to the wheel grating, smoking meditatively the while.

By the time that I had smoked my pipe out we had neared the barque to within less than half, a mile; and I was momentarily expecting to hear O'Gorman give the order to round-to and lower away the boat—wondering, meanwhile, how on earth I could possibly contrive to get my letter conveyed to the skipper—when the Irishman came shambling aft and, placing himself at my side, inquired:

"Well, misther, have you finished your shmoke?"

"Yes," I answered curtly. "Why do you ask the question, pray?"

"Because," he replied, "I'll have to ask ye to just step down below and stay there for the rest of the night!"

"To step down below—and stay there?" I repeated indignantly. "What do you mean, man? Surely I am not to be sent to my bunk like a child, whether I wish to go or not?"

"Bedad, but ye are thin; so make no more bones about it!" he retorted, with quickly-rising anger.

"But, my good fellow, this is preposterous,"—I began, thoroughly exasperated at such treatment, and keenly anxious not to lose even the most slender chance of communicating with the strangers. But the fellow would permit no argument, his quick temper caught fire instantly at the merest suggestion of remonstrance on my part, and he cut me short by exclaiming furiously:

"Howly Sailor! Phwhat's the use av' talkin' about it? Ye've got to go below, and that's all there is about it. Will ye go p'aceably, or will I have to call some of the hands aft to make ye go?"

Again did I feel that terrible, overpowering sensation of murderous anger grip at my heart, as it had already done once before in an altercation with this brutal ruffian, the blood again mounted to my head like fire, and, reckless of all consequences, I was in the very act of pulling myself together for a spring at his throat, when I felt a small hand—the touch of which thrilled me, even at that moment—laid upon my arm, and Miss Onslow's voice—pitched in its most seductive tones—said:

"Will you please come with me at once—at once—Mr Conyers? I have something of the utmost importance to say to you!"

With an effort that caused me to turn sick and giddy, I mastered the impulse that urged me to strike my enemy dead, there and then, and, mute with the intensity of my feelings, permitted my companion to lead me away. We descended the companion ladder in silence; and upon reaching the cabin Miss Onslow—as upon a former occasion—led me to one of the sofa-lockers, upon which she seated herself, gently drawing me down beside her. Then, looking anxiously into my face, she said:

"Mr Conyers, I could almost find it in my heart to be angry with you. Why—oh, why will you persist in laying yourself open to such insults from that great, coarse brute, by condescending to argue with him? What is the use of doing so? Surely you must realise, by this time, that you are quite powerless in the hands of these men, and that you cannot control or influence them in any way. Then, why attempt to do it? The only result is that you are insulted, and at once become positively mad with anger, under the influence of which you will some day—unless you are very careful—do something that you will be exceedingly sorry for. For instance, what would have happened, had I not fortunately chanced to have gone on deck the moment that I heard you and that Irish ruffian in conversation?"

"You are right—perfectly right," I answered; "and you make me feel very heartily ashamed of myself for my lamentable want of self-control—of which I will take especial care that henceforward there shall be no repetition. Of course I can see clearly enough, now, how positively suicidal it would have been for me to have yielded to the impulse that animated me at the moment when you so fortunately came upon the scene— suicidal for myself, and ruinously disastrous for you—which circumstance will, I assure you, amply suffice as an effectual check upon me for the future. We are but two against sixteen, and common sense tells me that, with such odds against us, violence is out of the question; we must depend upon craft and diplomacy to secure our ends."

"Oh! I am so glad to find you taking a reasonable view of our most unfortunate situation," exclaimed my companion, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. "Of course," she continued, "I can easily understand how terribly exasperating it must be to you—a naval officer, who has always hitherto been accustomed to the most implicit obedience on the part of your crew—to find yourself defied and insulted by these wretches, and I am not at all surprised that, under such circumstances, you find the provocation all but unendurable; but I am sure you are right in believing, as you say, that we must fight by diplomatic means rather than by a resort to brute force. I feel sure that the latter would be a terrible mistake on our part, and I will not attempt to deny that on the two occasions when you seemed about to resort to such means, I have been most horribly frightened."

"Yes," I exclaimed, with profound contrition, "I can quite understand that you would be so; and I very humbly beg your pardon for having so terrified you. I have been contemptibly weak at the very moment when I most needed to be strong; but have no further fear; you have effectually cured me of my weakness. And, now, you may as well tell me what was the important matter upon which you so urgently desired to speak to me."

For a moment my companion gazed at me with a most bewitching expression of perplexity in her glorious eyes; then her face lighted up with a smile of amusement, and she broke into a musical laugh.

"What!" she exclaimed. "Do you not yet understand? I only wanted to say to you what I have just said—or, rather I wanted to get you away from that Irishman before your impetuous temper had time to precipitate a disaster."

"I see," said I, "Well—"

I was interrupted by a sound of hailing that seemed to proceed, not from our own forecastle but from some spot a little way ahead of us; and I at once concluded that its source must be the strange barque, the existence of which I had entirely forgotten in the interest of the discussion between myself and Miss Onslow. I listened for a reply from O'Gorman, but there was none; and presently the hailing was repeated—this time from a much nearer point—and immediately followed by an excited shouting and jabbering, in which I believed I could distinguish a word or two of French. I sprang to my feet, and was about to rush up on deck, when Miss Onslow checked the movement by laying her hand upon my arm, and saying:

"Please oblige me by staying here. If you were to go on deck, that wretch would only insult you again; so why lay yourself open to such treatment, since you can do absolutely nothing? You must school yourself to allow those men to have their own way, since neither persuasion nor force are of any avail with them."

"True," answered I. "But it is instinctive for a sailor—and especially an officer—to rush on deck when he hears such an outcry as that,"—as the shouting and jabbering became momentarily nearer and more excited.

At that instant O'Gorman's voice shouted an order to "Stand by!" immediately followed by a command to the helmsman to "Hard a-starboard!" and presently there occurred a gentle shock—showing that the brig had collided with something apparently on the rounding of her starboard bow—accompanied by a most outrageous clamour, in which "S-a-c-r-es" and other French expletives plentifully abounded.