Chapter 34.

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_ CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"There you are, sir. Go aft."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I got him."

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

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

"Oh, help!" cried Walters piteously.

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

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

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

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

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

"What? Why, who is left behind?"

"Mr Denning."

"The sick passenger?"

"And his sister, sir."

"Oh yes, I know, board."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mr Jarette."

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

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

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

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

"In an open boat? No."

"Mr Jarette."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

"Ay, ay," growled Bob Hampton.

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

"Can you pass through that window?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mr Frewen uttered a strange kind of laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where is he? Somewhere forward?"

"No; here," I said.

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

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

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

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

"Hah!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, and no wonder."

"Is it a very bad wound?"

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

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

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

"Who else was hurt?" he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Explain yourself, man."

"Explain myself, sir? How?"

"Tell me what you mean."

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

"To dress your wound."

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

"No, my man, no."

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

"Certainly not. Why?"

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

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

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

"Honour, sir?"

"Honour, my man."

"Honour bright, sir?"

"On my word as a gentleman."

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

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

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

"Not now."

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

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

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

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

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

"Well?" I said excitedly.

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

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

"I--I say, he is not dead, is he?"

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

He quite started, and turned upon me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But you will--you will--"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For him to be punished by the law?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I did not answer, only laid my hand upon his, and he pressed it warmly, holding it for some moments before turning his back to me; and I made out that he rested his arm upon the side of the boat, and sat gazing at the dim lights which showed where the ship lay.

For some time no one spoke, and we lay there gently rising and falling on the golden-spangled water. There was not a breath of wind, and the silence was so great that any one could have imagined that the occupants of the boat were asleep.

But no one dozed for a moment, only sat or lay there, trying to bear patiently their mental and bodily suffering.

It was the captain who broke the silence, toward morning, by saying to the mate--

"Have you settled what to do, Brymer?"

"Yes," said the mate, starting. "I can't quite make out how we are situated till daylight, but unless Jarette has taken them out, we have the boat's spars and sails. You know how fast she is, and I propose, if we can do so, to--"

He stopped short, for Walters moaned piteously till Mr Frewen bent down over him and altered the position in which he lay.

"Yes, go on," said the captain feebly.

"I propose hoisting sail in the morning."

"And making for the Cape?"

"No, sir; weather permitting, and if we have a sufficiency of provisions and water, I shall keep pretty close to the ship--our ship. I shall keep just out of range of a bullet, and that is all; merely hang about or follow her when she catches the wind, until some other vessel heaves in sight. Captain Jarette is a clever, cunning man, but he has, I think, given us our chance, and we shall hang on to him till a chance comes for seizing the ship again."

"I thought our case was hopeless to-night," said the captain.

"And so did I, for a time, sir," continued the mate; "but he has over-reached himself in trying to get rid of us--hoist himself with his own petard--if the weather will only favour us now."

Mr Frewen drew a deep breath, which sounded to me as if full of relief, and the mate went on--

"It is not too much to expect that if at any time we make an attack now, some of the men will side with us."

"Don't matter if they don't, sir," growled Bob Hampton, in the deepest of deep bass voices. "We're strong enough, if you'll only give us a chance."

"All depends on chance, my lads," said Mr Brymer. "Let's get the daylight, and see what we have on board." _

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