Arrived at the shoal, the divers—Mildmay and von Schalckenberg as before—went down and got to work; but Barker's absence was felt when it came to hauling up the full nets, the weight of which proved to be rather too much for one man to handle, and it therefore became necessary to haul up the nets one at a time, discharge both into the same boat, and, when she was as full as was thought desirable, leave her, shifting over to the other boat and loading her in the same way. The consequence of this was that they were late in completing their cargoes, and it was already considerably past the luncheon-hour when at length they lifted their anchors and started back toward the lagoon. Nothing had been heard in the mean time from Lady Olivia, from which circumstance it was deduced that the patient was at all events no worse.

Scarcely, however, had the boats got under way when the bell of the telephone in Sir Reginald's pocket began to ring, and he whipped the instrument out with the remark—

"Hillo! what does this mean? Nothing very serious, I hope."

He pressed the thumb of one hand upon the small red knob of the instrument, and with the other hand inserted the tube of it into his ear.

Almost instantly he heard his wife's voice calling to him—

"Reginald! Reginald! are you there, and can you hear me?"

"Yes, dear, I am here; and can hear you quite distinctly," answered Sir Reginald. "What is the matter? Nothing wrong with Barker, I hope. Is he any worse?"

"Worse!" echoed Lady Olivia's voice, in accents of intense indignation. "There is nothing the matter with him—the wretch—except that he has stolen the Flying Fish, and is making off with her—and us."

"What!" ejaculated Sir Reginald, in a tone of such profound consternation that those in the other boat heard him, and von Schalckenberg, sheering in close alongside, demanded to know what was wrong. Sir Reginald, still listening at his telephone, held up his hand for silence. Lady Olivia was still speaking.

"Yes, it is quite true," she continued. "You had scarcely been gone an hour, this morning, when he suddenly presented himself in the music-room, where Feodorovna and I were sitting, and called Mlle. Sziszkinski out of the room. Suspecting nothing, the poor girl at once went, and a few minutes later he returned, alone, and, presenting a revolver at my head, ordered me to follow him, warning me at the same time that if I raised the slightest outcry of any kind, he would shoot me dead."

"The scoundrel! The consummate blackguard!" ejaculated Sir Reginald through his set teeth. "Yes, dear; go on. I am listening," he added.

"Of course I went; for there was nothing else to do," continued Lady Olivia. "And he looked so fierce, so determined, in such deadly earnest, that I felt sure he would carry out his threat if I disobeyed him. He led me up to the pilot-house; and there I found poor little Ida—whom I had believed to be out on deck, playing or reading—bound hand and foot, with a gag in her mouth."

Sir Reginald drew in his breath sharply, but said nothing.

"The moment that I entered the pilot-house he closed the door, and placing his back against it, pointed to Ida, saying, 'You see, ma'am, there is your child; and if you will look closely at her you will see that I have lashed her up so tightly that, if she could speak, she would tell you that she is mighty uncomfortable!' And indeed, I could see that the brute was only speaking the truth—much less than the truth, in fact, for it was clear that the poor darling was suffering torment. Oh, Reggie, I tried to get to her to release her, but that brute raised his pistol and pointed it at her, saying, 'If you offer to touch her, I'll blow her brains out! If you want to gain her release, tell me what you know about the working of this ship, and as soon as we are outside the reef you may release the child.'

"What could I do, Reggie? I simply could not stand there and see my darling suffering, so I asked him what he wanted to know. He said that the first thing he wished to know was how to raise the anchor, and I showed him. Then he asked how the engines were worked, and I showed him that, taking care, however, only to show him how they worked at their lowest speed. He kept me there with him until the ship had passed through the passage in the reef, and then he told me that I might take my 'brat' and go. I needed no second bidding, you may be sure, but snatched up the poor little thing and took her straight down into her own cabin, where—excepting for the few moments necessary to release Feodorovna from confinement in her cabin—nurse and I have been busy ever since, chafing her poor limbs and soothing her as well as we could. She suffered agonies at first, but is better now, and has gone to sleep."

"Good!" responded Sir Reginald. "I am now going to consult with the rest as to what is best to be done. But do not yet put your telephone away; I may wish to speak with you again."

Then Sir Reginald, in as few words as possible, repeated Lady Olivia's story to the others, ending by asking Mildmay, as an experienced seaman, what he would advise.

"The first thing to be done is to heave these oysters overboard as quickly as we can get rid of them. The next, of course, is to go full speed ahead in chase of the ship. It will be a desperately long chase, however, for these boats can only run twelve knots, while the ship, even at her slowest, will be going quite ten."

"Precisely," assented the baronet. "Then, there is the question of how we are going to find the ship. For of course she is far out of sight of the atoll by this time."

"True," assented Mildmay; "I am thinking about that, too. Ask Lady Olivia what she can tell us about the course, or courses, that the fellow has been steering."

"Better take the telephone yourself, old chap, and ask your questions first-hand," said Sir Reginald, handing over the instrument to the skipper.

Mildmay took it, and, inserting the small tube in his ear, spoke into the mouthpiece.

"Are you still there, Lady Olivia?"

"Yes," came the instant reply. "What now, Captain?"

"I want you to tell me what you can about the course that this fellow Barker is steering. Did you notice it?"

"Yes," answered Lady Olivia; "fortunately I thought of that. He was steering due east when he released me; and so soon as I got down into Ida's cabin I took the little aneroid with the compass at its back that hangs there and set it on the table, so that I could watch it. It was just eleven o'clock, by the clock in the pilot-house, when we passed out through the reef; and at twelve o'clock he altered his course to north-east-by-east, which is the course that he is steering at present."

"Thanks, very much. That will do excellently. Please keep an eye on that compass, and let us know if he makes any further alterations," said Mildmay; and when he had received Lady Olivia's answer, he handed back the telephone to Sir Reginald and, drawing a pencil from one pocket, and his watch from the other, made a brief note on one of his cuffs.

"Has either of you fellows a decent-sized bit of paper about you?" he asked.

Lethbridge drew his pocket-book from his pocket. "Will a leaf—or the whole book—be of any use to you?" he asked.

"A couple of leaves will do. Thanks," he replied, as Lethbridge tore out two and handed them to him. With one of these he constructed a kind of scale; then, with its aid, he drew a diagram on the other.

"So far as I can make out," he said, "with the help of this rough diagram, the ship is at this moment twenty-eight and three-quarter miles east-north-east of us—there, or thereabouts. We will therefore run on that course for the next two hours and twenty-five minutes—by which means we shall cut off a few miles—and then we must haul up on the same course as herself, and make a dead run after her."

Then von Schalckenberg spoke up. "May I be permitted to have a word or two with Lady Elphinstone?" he asked, addressing Sir Reginald.

"By all means, my dear fellow," answered the baronet. "Here you are." And he passed over the telephone.

Taking the instrument, the professor adjusted it for use, pressed the black knob, and the bell began to ring. Almost immediately it ceased again, however; whereupon the designer of the Flying Fish spoke.

"Are you there, my Lady?" he asked.

"Yes, Professor," came the reply. "I am listening."

"Where are you now, Madame?" asked von Schalckenberg.

"I am still in Ida's cabin," answered her Ladyship.

"Good!" remarked the professor. "Now, please listen very attentively to what I am about to say. But, tell me first, is Barker still in the pilot-house?"

"Yes; he is steering the ship, and—I think—trying to find out the use of all the levers and wheels and things that he sees there."

"Ah!" exclaimed the German, in alarm; "he must be stopped, quick, or heaven only knows what may happen. Now, please listen. Have you the courage to steal very quietly up to the foot of the pilot-house staircase, and do a very simple thing, quickly, before he knows that you are there, and what you are doing?"

"I have the courage; but I may not have the ability," answered Lady Olivia. "What is it that you wish me to do?"

"I want you," said von Schalckenberg, "to go to the place I have named, and stand between the staircase and the bulkhead, or wall, with your back turned to the stairs. Then, in the bulkhead, immediately in front of you, you will observe what appears to be the door of a small cupboard. Open this, and you will see just inside a lever sloping upward to the right. Grasp the handle, and push the lever as far as you can over toward your left—it should move quite easily—and you will have effectually shut Barker into the pilot-house, from which he cannot then get out to interfere with you. Let me know when you have done this, and I will then tell you what next to do."

"Right," came the answer. "I will do it, if it is to be done."



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

HOW THE ADVENTURE ENDED.

"Ha, ha," chuckled the professor; "if her Ladyship can only accomplish what I have told her to do, her troubles, and ours, will soon be over!" And carefully placing the telephone in the stern-sheets of the boat, he vigorously resumed his work of relieving the boat he was in of her burden of pearl-oysters.

"What is it, Professor; what is your plan?" demanded Sir Reginald, who was similarly busy in his own boat.

"My plan," replied the professor, "refers to a little arrangement that I made, when designing the ship, for just such a contingency as the present. But the matter slipped my memory; and I believe I never showed it to any of you. It was important that, in designing such a ship as the Flying Fish, every possible mishap should be foreseen and provided against; and while considering this matter it occurred to me that, either by means of treachery, or otherwise, undesirable persons might possibly succeed in gaining possession of the pilot-house, when the ship and all in her would be practically at the mercy of those persons. I therefore included in the design an arrangement, whereby the simple movement of a lever would cause a plate to slide out from an interstice in the wall of the pilot-house, and thus completely shut off that structure from the rest of the ship, making prisoners of any who might happen to be in it. This is what I have just dir—"

At this juncture the bell of the telephone again began to tinkle, and, without stopping to finish his remarks, the professor seized the instrument and, adjusting it for use, spoke into it the single word—"Yes?"

"I have done as you directed me," came Lady Olivia's voice, "and, as you said would be the case, the man is now shut up in the pilot-house. But he heard the sound made by the closing of the slide, and at once descended to see what it meant. He is raging horribly, in there, cursing like a madman, and uttering the most dreadful threats of what he will do when he breaks through."

"Ah! do not let that trouble you," replied von Schalckenberg. "He cannot break through; he is safely caged, and within the next three hours, please God, we shall all be with you again. Now, please listen, for there is something more that I wish you to do; but this time it is quite easy. You know your way down to the engine-room. Please go down there, taking your telephone with you. When you are there I will tell you what to do."

There was a pause of about a minute, and then Lady Olivia again spoke.

"Yes, Professor," she said, "here I am. What am I to do?"

"How are you standing?" asked von Schalckenberg.

"Just inside the engine-room, with my back to the door," came the answer.

"Good!" remarked the professor. "Then the machinery is all in front of you. There is a large pipe—as thick as—well, nine inches in diameter at your feet, running across the room from left to right; you cannot mistake it."

"Yes," said Lady Olivia. "There is but one of that size near at hand. This one is, as you say, close to my feet."

"Now look along that pipe toward your left," directed the professor. "Do you see a small horizontal wheel standing on it, with the spindle running down into the pipe?"

"Yes," answered her ladyship.

"Then please go to that wheel," said the German. "Grasp it on its right and left with your two hands; pull with your right hand, and push with your left until you cannot turn the wheel any further. Then tell me what happens."

A pause of about half a minute ensued, and then Lady Elphinstone spoke again.

"I have done as you directed me," she said, "and the engines have stopped!"

"Aha!" remarked the professor, with a chuckle of satisfaction. "Yes, that is all right. Now we shall soon overtake you. You need do no more just now, my lady. You can go to your cabin, or where you please. But keep the telephone about you, please, lest we should wish to speak to you again. Courage, madame; you are now quite safe."

"Well, Professor, what is the result of your long yarn with Lady Olivia?" demanded Sir Reginald, as he received back his instrument.

"Simply that our friend Barker is shut up in the pilot-house, from which he cannot now escape, and Lady Olivia has just cut off the flow of vapour at the generator; in consequence of which the engines have stopped, for one thing, and, for another, Barker may now play as much as he pleases with the levers and valves in the pilot-house without doing any mischief," answered von Schalckenberg.

The two boats were by this time off the southern extremity of the reef, with the last oyster of their cargoes gone overboard; they were therefore running light and buoyant over the long swell and sea with which they had to contend, and two minutes later, Mildmay gave the word for them to shift their helms and haul up to their new course of east-north-east. As he did so, he pulled out his watch and noted the time.

"Exactly eight bells—four o'clock," he remarked. "We must drive these little hookers through it for all they are worth, or we shall have the darkness upon us before we sight the ship," and he flung a somewhat anxious glance aloft at the heavy and rather threatening aspect of the sky. For within the last half-hour the sky had thickened somewhat, and ragged patches of scud were sweeping swiftly along overhead, with a dark and lowering bank of clouds behind them to windward, while the breeze had freshened very perceptibly. The sea was increasing, and the boats were already drenching their occupants with the heavy showers of spray that they flung aft, as they met and drove headlong into and through the head-sea. The boats were magnificent little craft, for their size, but Mildmay knew that matters might easily become very awkward indeed for them, even in the short space of an hour or two, out there in the broad Pacific, should it come on to blow at all heavily. Moreover, there was no moon now, and the night promised to be dark. What if they should fail to find the ship!

The boats, however, were doing their work splendidly, despite the wind and the sea; and although the tendency of the weather was undoubtedly to grow worse rather than better, the change was so gradual at first as to be scarcely perceptible. But the sunset that night was wild—a sunset of smoky scarlet and fiery orange in the midst of a stormy flare of greenish-purple clouds; and when the sun disappeared the boats still had very nearly half an hour to run before reaching the point at which Mildmay estimated that they ought to shift their helms again to get into the track of the ship. Taking into consideration the retardation of the boats by the adverse influence upon them of the wind and sea, he allowed them an extra ten minutes, and then gave the order to haul up to north-east-by-east, by which time it was pitch dark, starless, and blowing strong, with a very awkward amount of sea running for such small boats to battle with. Fortunately, Mildmay and the professor had with them their diving-dresses and the electric lamps which formed part of their equipment; they thus possessed the means of lighting up the cards of the boat compasses, and so ensuring that they were steering the correct course.

"According to my reckoning," said Mildmay, "we ought now to be on or very near the track of the ship, and within about five miles of her, or thereabout. If it were daylight I should expect to see her by this time; as it is we must keep a look-out for her saloon lights. The professor and I have all that we can do to keep the boats running straight, so we shall have to depend upon you other fellows to look out. Don't confine yourselves to looking straight ahead; keep a look-out broad on each bow as well. My calculations are only approximate, you must remember."

For the next ten minutes perfect silence reigned in the boats; for the helmsmen were intently watching their compasses, while the others were straining their eyes through the darkness in the hope of catching the glimmer of light from the Flying Fish's saloon ports; and, more than once, one or another of them opened his lips to cry out that he saw them, only to realise, the next instant, that he had been deceived by the phosphorescent gleam of the head of a breaking sea.

At length, however, Lethbridge broke the tense silence with the joyous cry of—

"Light ho! right ahead," at the same instant that Sir Reginald cried out—

"I see her! there she is, straight ahead of us. Good shot, skipper!"

Yes; there she was, undoubtedly. When the boats topped a sea they could just make out the four lights shining from the dining-saloon ports; and another, somewhat farther forward, that was doubtless the light of Ida's cabin. Sir Reginald seized his telephone, and rang up his wife to encourage her with the news that the boats were close at hand, and ten minutes later they dashed alongside.

The ship was lying broadside-on to the wind and sea, rising and falling easily over the fast gathering swell, but scarcely rolling at all. Her hull thus afforded a capital lee for the boats. Mildmay's boat was the first to reach the foot of the gangway-ladder; and up it Sir Reginald sprang at a single bound, as it seemed, closely followed by Lethbridge.

"Take care how you go, Elphinstone," called the Colonel. "Remember that the fellow has a revolver."

"Never fear," answered the baronet. "I will look after myself."

Dashing at the pilot-house door, Sir Reginald flung it open—to find himself face to face with Barker, who was sitting composedly on the bottom step of the ladder, smoking his pipe. He started to his feet in horror and amazement at the sight of Sir Reginald.

"Well, darn my ugly—" He got no further in his exclamation; for, at the sight of him, Sir Reginald's long pent-up anger broke loose, and exclaiming—

"You despicable coward; you ungrateful scoundrel!" he struck out, catching the man fairly under the jaw, and knocking him backward with a staggering crash upon the metal steps of the pilot-house.

"Steady, Squire, steady!" mumbled the man in a tone of remonstrance. "There's no call to knock me about, is there? And where in the nation did—?"

"No call to knock you about, you blackguard!" thundered the furious baronet. "If I were to break every bone in your body there would be ample excuse for it. The attempted theft of the ship is nothing; it is your brutality to my wife and child that—"

At this moment the inner door of the pilot-house slid open; for Lady Olivia had been listening expectantly, and at the sound of her husband's voice had thrown back the lever.

"Look here," continued Sir Reginald, restraining himself with difficulty, as he pointed to the open door, "march you down there, and go straight to your cabin, or I shall do you a mischief!"

"No, no, Squire; there's no call for that; no call at all," he mumbled soothingly, as he sidled out of the pilot-house, keeping a wary eye upon Sir Reginald, who followed him closely. "But, how in the nation did you find this darned ship?" he persisted, his insatiable curiosity gripping him hard as he proceeded along the corridor toward the cabin. "I made sure that if I could run her out of sight of the island, and then shift my helm, I should be all right. And so I should, if the darned engines hadn't broken down!"

With a gesture Sir Reginald sped him through the door of the cabin that he had occupied, and followed him in.

"Where is that revolver, with which you threatened my wife and daughter?" demanded the baronet.

Barker drew it out of his pocket and handed it to Sir Reginald with the nearest approach to a grin that his swollen and bleeding features would permit.

"Bluff, Squire; pure bluff!" he remarked, as the baronet took it from him. "Nary a cartridge in it—couldn't have raised one to save my life. But it answered just the same. Say, what air you going to do with me, eh?"

Sir Reginald dropped the revolver into his pocket without a word, and passed out of the cabin, closing and locking the door behind him. From there he went out on deck again, to find the remainder of the party busy upon the hoisting and securing of the second of the two boats. He helped them with the work; and then, with a brief word or two of heartfelt thanks to Mildmay and the others for the skill and resource by which they had all been enabled to get so cheaply out of such an ugly adventure, he retired below and joined his wife in Ida's cabin, where mutual confidences were exchanged. The child was now awake and quite lively again; and, apart from her poor little chafed and swollen wrists and ankles, seemed little or nothing the worse for her share of the adventure. Satisfied, at length, of this, Sir Reginald retired to his cabin, discarded his saturated clothes, took a bath, and proceeded to dress for dinner.

That night, over the dinner-table, the question was raised of what should be done with the prisoner.

"Of course," said Sir Reginald, "we could take him home with us, charge him with piracy, and get him punished. But that would involve just the publicity that, for many reasons, I desire to avoid. On the other hand, I have a very strong feeling that the fellow should be punished, not so much, perhaps, for what he has actually done, as for what, apparently, he was perfectly willing to do. What sort of a scheme he had in his mind when he plotted to steal this ship, it is very difficult to say, for I think we may take it for granted that he is absolutely ignorant of her diving and flying powers; but it is clear enough that, whatever his intentions may have been, he would have—indeed, did—unhesitatingly leave five of us to perish on that barren rock, which, he knew, afforded neither food nor water. It is this brutal indifference to the consequences, to others, of his nefarious scheme, that, to my mind, calls for punishment."

"It would rightly serve him if you were to take him back and put him upon the place from which you rescued him," suggested Sziszkinski.

"He would have no right to complain if we did," answered Sir Reginald. "But that would be equivalent to passing a death-sentence upon him, for he could not exist there longer than a few days. No, I would not willingly compass the fellow's death; I entertain no feeling of vindictiveness toward him. Punish him, however, I will, and that pretty severely, too, if only to deter him from engaging so light-heartedly in similar enterprises in the future; and I think that perhaps the case may be fitly met by marooning him on some suitable spot, where he can keep himself alive without too great difficulty, but from which he is not likely to effect his escape very readily."

"Yes," agreed Mildmay; "something of that sort ought to teach him a good, wholesome lesson. And there should be plenty of suitable spots not very far from here. We will have out the chart by-and-by, and see what it has to tell us."

When, later in the evening, the chart of the Pacific was produced, it was found that the outlying islands of the Caroline group lay little more than three hundred miles to the northward of the spot at that moment occupied by the ship, and it was at once determined to try among them for a suitable marooning place. And, as Sir Reginald was quite naturally anxious to get rid of his prisoner as speedily as possible, von Schalckenberg descended to the engine-room and once more turned on the vapour. The Flying Fish then ascended to the neutral belt, and, heading due north, proceeded for three hours at full speed; at the expiration of which period her engines were stopped and she came to a halt for the remainder of the night.

The dawn was just tingeing the Eastern sky with pallor when Mildmay opened his eyes and, rising from his exceedingly comfortable bed, walked over to the port and looked out. Everything was still wrapped in darkness below him; but upon gazing steadfastly into the gloom for a few minutes, he believed that he could descry certain darker patches here and there, at no great distance, which ought to be—and doubtless were— islands. And thereupon he slid his feet into a pair of soft slippers and betook himself to the pilot-house, where, by the manipulation of certain valves, he lowered the ship to within some three hundred feet of the surface of the sea. He then proceeded outside to the deck, and carefully inspected his surroundings from that situation. The dawn was brightening fast, and objects below were beginning to show with some distinctness. Therefore, although the ship being afloat in the air, and her engines at rest, he felt no wind, the aspect of the sea beneath him, and the fact that the Flying Fish was perceptibly drifting to the southward and westward, told him that a brisk, north-easterly wind was blowing. At the much lower altitude at which the ship was now floating, the surrounding islets—there were three of them—showed to the eye at something very nearly approaching their correct distances apart, and in the fast-growing light something of their true character also stood revealed. Thus the solitary observer noted that while two of them, some six miles apart, were simply extensive reefs of bare coral rock, with a multitude of narrow, intricate channels of water running hither and thither through them, the third—some nine or ten miles to the southward—was an atoll of very similar character to that of the pearl-island which they had so abruptly left on the preceding day, but considerably larger, quite an extensive grove of coco-palms growing upon it. It had all the appearance of being a very suitable spot for the purpose that he had in his mind; and he therefore retired to the pilot-house, re-started the engines, and so headed the ship that she would pass over it. And when, presently, she reached it, he turned her head-to-wind, so adjusted the speed of her engines that she would just stem the breeze, and again went out on deck to reconnoitre. He now saw that the island beneath him was about two miles long by about half a mile in breadth, well clothed with grass, bushes, and some two or three hundred coco-palms; and that there was a rivulet of—presumably—fresh water bubbling up at one point and meandering down to the lagoon, which was a spacious one of about ten miles long by some seven miles broad, with a depth of water that appeared ample enough to float anything. The islet was also uninhabited; for he had a clear view of the whole of it, and could discover nothing that even remotely resembled a hut; no, not even with the aid of his binoculars. So, satisfied at length that he had found the kind of spot that Sir Reginald had in his mind's eye, Mildmay took the ship over the lagoon, allowed her to settle gently into the placid water, and let go her anchor. Then, very well content with himself, he went below, took a bath, and dressed for the day.

He was out on deck again, sauntering fore and aft the deck, and taking occasional peeps at the island through his binoculars while waiting for the breakfast-gong to sound, when Sir Reginald appeared. Glancing about him at his surroundings, he advanced to Mildmay's side as he said—

"Good morning, skipper; glorious morning, isn't it? Where is this spot that you have brought us to?"

"It is one of the Carolines, without doubt," answered Mildmay; "but precisely which one I cannot say until I have taken my observations, for I cannot quite identify it with any laid down on the chart. But, anyhow, it is an outlying island, and sufficiently far from any of the usual ship-tracks to give our friend Barker a good wholesome spell of solitary confinement, to fix upon his memory the evil of his ways, before he obtains his release. It is amply big enough to support him, and afford him a sufficiency of exercise; he need never starve with all these coconut trees to his hand; we can let him have a fishing-line or two, I suppose, to enable him to provide himself with a change of diet, and a burning-glass with which to make his fires; and there is a stream of water—that I take to be fresh—from which he can slake his thirst. And if you feel disposed to give him to sleep in one of those small waterproof tents that we have down below, and which we have never yet had occasion to use, the fellow ought to be able to make himself exceedingly comfortable, while you will have done quite enough for him to set your conscience at rest, and a vast deal more than he deserves. If you like, we can take a run ashore, after breakfast, and have a look at the place before you definitely decide to land him here."

Mildmay's suggestions were quite in accord with Sir Reginald's own views on the subject; and when, after breakfast, the whole party landed to inspect the place, and indulge in a stroll, the island was found to be so very much better in every way than it had appeared to be, that the baronet felt he need have no scruples about leaving Barker there. Accordingly, after luncheon, a tent, half a dozen fishing-lines, a good lens to serve as a burning-glass, a saw, an axe, and a few other useful odds and ends, including a small supply of food and groceries—to let the marooned man down gently, so to speak—were put into the boat; and Barker was then released from his confinement, conducted up on deck, and ordered down the side, Sir Reginald and Mildmay following him.

As the boat pushed off and headed for the beach, Barker turned to Sir Reginald, and said—

"Well, Squire, from the look of things in general, I guess you're goin' to maroon me, eh? Well, this here island looks a durn sight purtier than the spot that you took me off of; I won't gainsay that. And are all these here things in the boat mine? What's this here—a tent? You don't say! Well now, that's downright handsome of you, Squire, and no mistake. And here's fishin'-lines, and—" He went on to enumerate the various articles, until he had gone through them all. Then—

"Here, stop a bit, though," he cried. "I don't see no gun, no powder and shot; and—where's my share of the pearls what we fished up the other day?"

Mildmay stared at the man for a moment, and then burst into a hearty laugh.

"Well," he exclaimed, "you are a cool hand, Barker, if ever there was one! Your coolness, however, will not avail you here; those things are all that we intend to give you, and they are a precious sight more than you deserve."

"All right, Skipper," answered the fellow; "I'm not complainin'. You've got the bulge on me, and I'm the bottom dog this time. Only I thought there was no harm in just mentionin' them little matters."

"No harm in the world," agreed Mildmay, cheerily, as the boat's forefoot slid up on the smooth sand of the beach. "You will be able to amuse yourself by mentioning a good many other 'little matters' from time to time while you are here. Now, out you go! I will pass the things out to you."

Half an hour later, the Flying Fish passed out to sea through the usual gap in the reef, by which time Barker had already got his tent rigged, a fire lighted, and was cooking his first meal. There could be no manner of doubt that, whatever else he might be, the man was a thoroughly sound philosopher.

At noon that day, Mildmay ascertained his exact latitude; and having thus, in conjunction with his usual morning observations for the determination of the longitude, fixed the exact position of the ship on the chart, a course was laid off for the pearl-island. The ship, going at full speed, rose into the calm belt, and that same afternoon settled down again in her former berth in the pearl-island lagoon.

On the following morning the four men went ashore and resumed their disagreeable task of separating the pearls from the putrid mass of decomposed matter in which they were imbedded; and this time they persevered until they had dealt with all the oysters that they had fished up. The result was so enormously rich a harvest of magnificent pearls that everybody was more than satisfied, and there was a general consensus of opinion that, under these circumstances, it would be mere waste of time to stay any longer at the island.

This decision was especially acceptable to Sir Reginald Elphinstone, for it very soon became evident to him that Barker's daring attempt at piracy had inflicted a very severe shock upon Lady Olivia, which quickly developed into an attack of nervous prostration, that rendered an immediate return home exceedingly desirable; the more so that Ida was also suffering from shock, although not to nearly so serious an extent as her mother. The whole question was fully discussed by the men after dinner, on the evening of the "clearing-up" day, and of course, as might be expected, it was no sooner recognised by the rest of the party that their host was anxious to bring the cruise to a close, than they all united in urging him to take Lady Olivia home at once, and put her under the care of her own especial physician. Even von Schalckenberg, who had been looking longingly forward to a hunt for those new zebras, carefully refrained from mentioning even so much as the word "Africa," but, with an inward sigh over the lost—or, it might be, only the deferred— opportunity, joined his persuasions to those of the others. The final outcome of the discussion was a decision to start for home forthwith at top speed.

This decision arrived at, a chart of the world was produced, and from it was determined the homeward course from that little, unknown spot in the Pacific to Sir Reginald Elphinstone's charming Devonshire seat, Chudleigh Park. Then the party bade each other good-night, and retired to their cabins, Mildmay only lingering behind the others long enough to raise the ship into the neutral belt, put her engines at full speed ahead, and fix her self-steering apparatus on the ascertained course.

Their flight took them over the Philippine Islands, Burma, Northern India, Afghanistan, the north-eastern corner of Persia, the southern skirt of the Caspian Sea, the southern half of the Black Sea, across Austria-Hungary, northern Switzerland, the north of France, and the English Channel; and it was accomplished uneventfully, the ship coming safely and quietly to earth exactly at midnight on the third day of their journey from the Pacific, after slowing down over the channel to avoid unwelcome observation on their arrival.

It was such a glorious May morning as is to be found at its best only in lovely Devon, when, having remained on board for the rest of the night, and taken breakfast ere leaving the ship, the whole party walked up to Chudleigh Hall, and announced their return to the astonished staff of servants. So unexpected an arrival was naturally productive of some little confusion in the household; but matters very quickly arranged themselves, and by the evening of that same day, with the assistance of the farm-waggons belonging to the estate, all the spoils and valuables of every description had been transferred from the ship to the house. And when the following morning dawned the Flying Fish had disappeared from the glade in which she had been lying as mysteriously as she had dropped into it only twenty-four hours previously.

The professor and Mildmay had likewise vanished in an equally mysterious manner; but they calmly and smilingly turned up again by a late train, that same evening, to learn the gratifying news that Lady Elphinstone's return to the safety of her beautiful home had already produced a most beneficial effect upon her health, and that there was now every prospect of an early recovery from the bad effects of the shock that she had so recently sustained.

Meanwhile, the Sziszkinskis, delighted with the beauty of the county and the healthfulness of its climate, had spent a busy day prosecuting inquiries in the neighbourhood for a suitable residence, and had already found one very greatly to their liking, the purchase of which they satisfactorily concluded within the week.

And thus ends the story of a very memorable cruise—a cruise which was destined to have far-reaching results upon the fortunes and the happiness of some at least of those who participated in it, as well as to many who never heard a word about it. For the worthy professor's share of the rubies and pearls that the party brought home with them provided him with the wealth that was necessary to enable him to initiate his great philanthropic enterprise; while it is undeniable that Mildmay spends an unconscionable amount of his time with the Sziszkinskis. Whether these visits have anything to do with the whispered rumour that Mlle. Feodorovna is about to exchange her Russian patronymic for an English name, time perhaps will show.

THE END