Chapter 47

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_ CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

"It's all over," I thought to myself; "they'll take the ship and send us adrift now;" but all the same I knew that the defence would be desperate as soon as Mr Brymer gave the word.

I could see the faces of Jarette and his men now clearly enough in the one boat, while in the other I picked out five men, among whom was the cook, who would have been, I should have thought, the very last to join in so desperate a game, one which certainly meant penal servitude for all, and possibly a worse punishment for the leaders, as death might very probably ensue in the desperate attack upon the ship. But I had no more time for such thoughts. Jarette just then rose up in the stern of the boat he was in, and hailed us.

"Ahoy, there! Open that gangway," he shouted, "and let down the roped steps."

Mr Brymer stepped to the bulwarks just opposite the boat.

"Throw up your oars there," he cried, and the men obeyed, so used were they to his orders.

"Row, you idiots, row!" roared Jarette, and the oars splashed again.

"Stop there, you in the boats," cried Mr Brymer, "or I give the order to fire."

"Bah! don't be a fool, Brymer," he shouted. "Pull away, my lads; they won't fire. Hi! there, the rest of you, don't take any notice of the mate. We saw you were on fire and in danger. We saw the fire and smoke in the night, and came to save you."

"In the same way as you deserted the ship when you thought she would sink," said Mr Brymer, tauntingly.

"Pull, my lads, and get aboard," cried Jarette, so that the men in the other boat could hear; "he doesn't know what he's talking about. We'll put the fire out, and then talk to him."

Bang! went Mr Brymer's revolver, fired over the heads of the men in Jarette's boat, and the Frenchman fell backward into the stern-sheets.

I thought he was killed, and the men ceased rowing.

But Jarette was up again directly.

"Pull, you beasts!" he cried. "You jerked me off my feet. You, there," he roared to the men in the second boat, "round to the starboard side and board there. No--"

He leaned over the side and said something behind his hand to the men in the other boat, which we could not hear, but we did hear him say--"We must have her. It's too far to row."

Those last words enlightened us, telling as they did that the boats had made very little progress, but had drifted with the current just as the ship had, and they could never have been very far away. They must too have supposed the vessel had sunk till they saw the fire renewed, when feeling that they had been premature in forsaking her, they came back, and were no doubt a good deal taken aback by finding us there ready to defy them.

"Now!" shouted Jarette. "Ready? Off!"

The boats came on in spite of two or three shots fired from the deck, and then, with Jarette rapidly returning our fire, they were soon close up and sheltered to a great extent.

Jarette's boat came right alongside at once in the most plucky manner, urged on as the men were by their leader, who seemed utterly devoid of fear. But the other boat rowed right round by the stern, and its occupants were damped on finding that unless they could mount by the fore or mizzen-chains, there was apparently no means of reaching the deck. They ceased rowing in each of these places, but there were a couple of defenders ready at each halt, and they made no further attempt, but lay on their oars in a half-hearted way, as if waiting for an opportunity to occur.

But meanwhile the fight had begun by the main-chains on the port side, where, with Jarette to cover them with his revolver, the men made a desperate effort to gain the deck, but only to be beaten back each time they showed their heads above the bulwarks, and after five minutes they sat down sullenly and refused to stir.

"You cowards!" snarled Jarette, savagely. "Do you want to stop afloat in open boats and starve? Now then, once more. Up with you!"

The men rose at his words, but Mr Brymer appeared now above them.

"Sheer off," he roared, "or we'll sink the boat."

Two reports followed this speech, and, to my horror, I saw Mr Brymer fall back heavily on the deck to lie motionless.

"That's winning, boys," shouted Jarette, triumphantly. "Now then, all of you follow."

He made a spring at the boat-hook they had fastened to the chains, and scrambled up, to step on one side crouching down, revolver in hand, sheltering himself, but watchfully ready to fire at either of us who might show, and waiting while his men climbed to him.

While they were climbing out of the boat to his side, Mr Preddle stepped forward gun in hand, to pass it over the bulwark, and hold the men in check; but the barrels were seized, pressed on one side, and a man reached up and struck the naturalist over the head, so that he too went down heavily.

"Here, hi! Mr Dale, you're in command now," shouted Bob Hampton. "Barney, doctor, Neb, come and help here."

We all made a rush to the side to help Bob, and our presence was needed, for man after man had now reached the chains, where they waited for Jarette's orders to make a rush.

"Here, let me come," cried Dumlow, limping up with his capstan-bar. "Give me room, and I'll clear the lot down."

He swung up his bar to reach over and deliver a sweeping blow, but he was over Jarette, who started up below the bar, and fired right in the big sailor's face, when he too went down, but not hit. The shock and the whizz of a bullet close to his ear had sufficed to stagger him, so that he tripped over Mr Preddle's prostrate body, and gave his head a sharp blow on the back.

To all appearances, three of our side were now hors de combat, and I felt that all was over; and to confirm my thought, there was a shout forward in the bows.

I uttered a despairing groan, for it was all plain enough. The second boat had made for the stay beneath the bows, just as Dumlow had been called away with his capstan-bar, and as I looked forward, there, to my horror, dimly-seen through and beneath the ascending steam, were four men who had climbed on board.

"We're licked, Mr Dale, sir; but hit, shoot, do anything as they come over the side. Do, dear lad, shoot Frenchy, whatever you do. Now then, let 'em have it, for Old England's sake and sweet home! Here they come!"

Jarette and four men rose up now suddenly in the chains, climbed on to the bulwark, and were about to leap down, and with a desperate feeling of horror, I raised my gun to fire. But there was a rush and a cheer as the men from forward rushed down to us, and I was roughly jostled, my aim diverted; but the trigger was being pulled, and the piece went off loudly.

The next moment blows were being given and taken. Mr Frewen was fighting furiously, and well seconded by Bob and Barney. Jarette and his men were checked, two going down, and to my astonishment they fell from blows given by the four men who had dashed forward.

It was all one horrid confusion, for now one of these men turned on me, and wrested the gun from my grasp, though I tugged at it hard. Then it was pointed and fired at Jarette--not at me--missing him though, but making him lose his foot-hold, and fall with a heavy splash into the sea.

"Hurray!" yelled Bob.

"Give it to 'em," cried Barney; and I saw Mr Frewen strike one with a revolver in his hand, but using his fist as if he were boxing, and another man went backwards into the boat, while a blow or two from Neb Dumlow's capstan-bar, which Barney had picked up, sufficed to clear the chains.

I looked over the side for a moment, and saw a man holding out an oar to Jarette, who was swimming; but there was a rush of feet again, and the men who had come over the bows were running back just in time to drive back three more, tumbling them over into the sea, to regain their boat the best way they could.

Then these four, headed by the man who had led them, began to cheer, and came running back toward us, the man who had snatched my gun, and whom I saw now to be the cook, shouting louder than all the rest put together.

"What, are you on our side, then, old Plum Duff?" cried Dumlow, who was now sitting up.

"Seems like it, Neb," cried the cook. "Here, Mr Dale, sir, load quickly and fire, or they'll come on again."

He handed me the gun, and I rapidly opened the breech and slipped in the cartridges, just as firing began from aft, and I saw that Mr Frewen was standing against the companion-way aiming at the boat containing Jarette, which had sheered off after picking up their leader and another man, while now the second boat hove in sight from under the bows, in time for Mr Frewen to send a stinging charge of shot at her crew in turn.

He kept up his practice, while in both boats the men pulled with all their might to get out of range.

But our troubles did not seem over, for hardly had we grasped the fact that the cook and three of the men had snatched at the opportunity to escape from Jarette's rule, and join us in the defence of the ship, than I saw that which made me shout--

"Fire!--fire!" for the great cloud of steam always rising was swept suddenly towards the starboard side, and the vessel slowly careened over in the same direction.

"Burnt through, and sinking," I groaned to myself, and then I felt stunned, for Bob yelled out--

"Run to the wheel, Barney, lad. Keep her before the wind."

The sailor bounded to the ladder, and up on the poop-deck, to spin round the spokes of the wheel; and the next minute, almost before I could grasp what had happened, the sails, which had hung for days motionless, had filled, and we were running free, leaving the two boats and their occupants far behind.

"Thank God!" cried a voice behind me, and I turned to see that it was Mr Frewen, who now ran to the entrance of the saloon, where I saw him grasping Miss Denning's and her brother's hands, and I knew he was saying "Saved!"

Directly after he was back with us, who were carefully lifting Mr Brymer, while Mr Preddle lay so motionless that I was afraid he was dead.

Mr Frewen dropped on one knee, and began to examine the mate, while I watched him with intense eagerness, waiting to hear his words.

"It must have been a bad cartridge, or the pistol improperly loaded. It did not pierce the cloth of his cap, and even the skin of the scalp is not broken."

"Then it will not be fatal?" I said.

"Fatal?--no! There may be a little concussion of the brain. You had better carry him into his cabin, my lads, out of the sun."

The cook and one of the men who had returned to their allegiance lifted the mate carefully, and bore him toward the saloon, while Mr Frewen now directed his attention to the naturalist.

"I'm not in fit trim for acting as surgeon, Dale," he said. "I'm bubbling over with excitement; my nerves are all on the strain with the struggle I have gone through. But we've won, my lad, thanks to those fellows who came over on our side. Now, Preddle, my good friend, how is it with you? Hah! Only been stunned. A nasty crack on the head though."

He parted the hair to show me how the head had puffed up into a great lump; but I had hardly bent forward to examine it, as the poor fellow lay sheltered from the morning sun by the shadow cast by one of the sails, when he opened his eyes, looked vacantly about him, and then fixed them on me, and recognising me, a look of intelligence brightened in his gaze, and he said quietly--

"My fish all right, Dale?"

"I--I haven't been to look at them this morning," I stammered, hardly able to keep back a laugh.

"I forgot. I went myself," he said. "Of course. But I couldn't find the bellows. You haven't taken them, have you?"

"No," I said gently, thinking that he was wandering in his mind.

"How tiresome! That water wants aerating badly."

"Bellers, sir?" growled Dumlow, who was looking on; "I took 'em to make the kittle bile, and didn't have no time to put 'em back 'cause of the boats coming."

"Ah, the boats," cried Mr Preddle, excitedly. "Jarette knocked me down."

"And he got knocked down hisself, sir. Reg'lar one for his nob," said Dumlow.

"Then we won, Dale?"

"Oh yes, we've won," I cried, "and the boats are a couple of miles away."

"Let me examine your head again," said Mr Frewen.

"What, for that!" cried the naturalist. "Oh, it's nothing--makes me feel a little giddy and headachy, that's all. But I think I'll go and sit out of the sun for a bit. Why, we're sailing again."

"Yes," I cried; "there's a beautiful breeze on, and we've left the beaten enemy behind, and--"

_Flip_-_flip_-_flap_-_flap_-_flop_!

The wind had ceased as suddenly as it had come on.

"Well, sir," said Bob Hampton, a short time later, "I never 'spected to see you get to be skipper dooring this voyage."

"Oh, don't talk nonsense, Bob," I cried. "Look--they're coming on again as fast as they can row."

The old sailor shaded his eyes and looked aft at the two boats, which the men were tugging along with all their might, taking advantage of our being becalmed to try and overtake us and renew their attempt.

"Yes, there they are, bless 'em!" cried Bob. "Well, sir, as skipper o' this here ship, with all the 'sponsibility depending on you, o' course you know what to do."

"No, I don't, Bob," I cried. "How can a boy like I am know how to manage a full-rigged ship?"

"Tchah! You've been to sea times enough, and a ship's on'y a yacht growed up. Besides, there's no navigating wanted now as there's no wind."

"But the boats!" I cried. "Look at the boats."

"Oh, I see 'em, my lad; well, that means fighting, and I never knowed a boy yet as didn't know how to fight."

"We must try to beat them off, Bob," I said, ignoring his remark.

"Nay, not try--do it, sir; and you, being skipper, of course 'll give 'em a startler to show 'em what's waiting for 'em, if they try to board again."

"What do you mean, Bob?" I cried.

"Well, come, I like that, sir," he said, with a laugh; "there have you got the little signal-gun loaded and primed, and the poker all red-hot and waiting, and i'stead o' having it run to the gangway, set open ready to give 'em their startler, you says you don't know what to do?"

"Would you do that, Bob?" I said anxiously.

"No; but you would, sir, being skipper, and wanting to save the ship, what's left o' the cargo, and all aboard."

"But it might sink them."

"And jolly well serve 'em right--a set of piratical sharks. Ahoy, Barney!--you aren't to stop at that there wheel now; the skipper wants you to lend a hand with the gun."

Barney ran up to us, and the gun was dragged to the open gangway, ready for the mutineers, as they still rowed on.

"Neb, old lad," cried Bob, "give a hye to the red-hot poker, and when I cries 'Sarvice!' out you runs with it, and hands it to me."

"Ay, ay," growled Dumlow, in his deepest bass.

"It's all right, Mr Dale, sir," whispered Bob. "You can't hit 'em with that thing if you try ever so; but it'll splash up the water, and scare the lot on 'em so that old Frenchy 'll have no end of a job to get 'em to come on."

I felt better at that, and waited for the attack. Mr Frewen was back with us, and Mr Preddle too. Mr Denning was also in his old place with his gun; and as the men, including the four who had joined us, were armed with the weapons they had brought from the boat, they made a respectable show.

"But do you think we can trust those men?" I whispered to Bob.

"Trust 'em, my lad?" he replied, with a chuckle. "You jest may. They knows it would be all over with 'em if once Frenchy got 'em under his thumb again. Don't you be scared about them; they'll fight like gamecocks."

"If we could only get the wind again," said Mr Frewen, who looked anxious.

"Is there any chance of it, Bob?" I asked.

"Can't say, sir. Maybe we shall get a breeze; maybe we shan't. But never mind; we'll raise a storm for them in the boats, in precious few minutes too. She's charged all right, arn't she, sir?"

"Oh yes," said Mr Preddle. "I rammed the cartridge well home, and primed the touch-hole with powder."

"Then I should not wait long," said Mr Frewen, anxiously. "It will perhaps make the scoundrels keep off."

"'Zactly, sir. Mr Dale here's skipper now, and he'll give the order directly."

"No, no," I said; "Mr Frewen, you take the lead."

"I am only the doctor," he replied, with a smile, which made me feel that he was laughing at me. But the boats were coming on so fast that something had to be done, and in my excitement I cried--

"Now, Bob. Time!"

"Ay, ay, sir," he shouted, going down on one knee to point the little gun. "Sarvice!"

There was a growl from forward, and Neb Dumlow came limping from the galley, along the narrow piece of deck, by where the steam still rose, and flourishing a red-hot poker, hurried to our side.

"Cap'en o' the gun says--Stand well from behind; keep alongside, 'cause she kicks. One moment. I can't get no better aim. Now, sir, ready!"

"Fire!" I cried; and I felt in agony, but had faith in Bob Hampton's words.

Down went the hot poker. There was a flash, a fizz, and a puff of smoke from the touch-hole, and that was all. No, not all, for a puff of wind followed that of smoke, and the ship began to glide onward again, while the men gave a cheer, and Barney ran to the wheel.

"Saved once more," cried Mr Frewen.

"Yes, sir, and them too. But beg pardon, sir," growled Bob Hampton; "I mean you, sir,--Mr Preddle, sir,--are you sure as you loaded the gun?"

"Yes, quite. With one of these cartridges,"--and he went to a box, out of which he took one with the ball fitted in its place by means of a couple of tin bands.

"That's right, sir; but did you ram it home?"

"Yes, hard."

Bob Hampton thrust in the rammer and felt the cartridge.

"Yes, sir; seems right. Perhaps the powder's old and damp."

"No; I think it was perfectly dry."

"Humph!" growled Bob; and then an idea seemed to strike him.

"Beg pardon, sir," he cried; "would you mind showing me how you shoved the cartridge in?"

"Like this," cried Mr Preddle, eagerly, stooping down to apply the cartridge to the mouth of the little brass gun.

"Sure you did it like that, sir?"

"Yes; certain."

"Then no wonder it didn't go off. Why, that's the way to sarve one o' them breeches-loaders. You don't put a cartridge ball first into the muzzle of a gun."

"Why, no!" cried Mr Preddle, colouring like a girl. "How stupid!"

"And we shall have a job to unload her," growled Bob.

But his attention was directly after taken up by the management of the ship, for the wind held on, and by night we had left the boats down below the horizon line, invisible to us even from the mast-head.

That proved an anxious time, for the wind sank soon after sunset, and a careful watch had to be kept, both for the boats, and against our enemy the fire, which kept on showing that there was still some danger in the hold.

The next morning dawned with the boats in sight again, and their crews were evidently straining every nerve to overtake us, for it was once more a dead calm.

We were more hopeful though, for a couple more applications of the hose had pretty well extinguished the fire; the cannon had been unloaded and properly charged; and, best of all, Mr Frewen's patients were all better, and Mr Brymer sufficiently well to sit up in a chair, and be brought on deck to take his place as captain, to my intense relief.

The cook had quietly gone to his galley, and then acted as steward as well, so that while the boats were still miles away, we had the best breakfast we had been provided with for many days. And, after this, quite ready for our enemies, and well furnished with weapons, we waited their coming.

I obtained a glass from the captain's cabin, my principal officer telling me to keep it as long as I liked, on condition that I kept reporting to him the state of affairs on deck.

"Everyone is very kind," he said sadly; "but I spend a great many anxious hours here, longing to hear how things are going on, and if it were not for Miss Denning, my position would be ten times worse."

I hurried out with the glass, focussed it on the boats, and watched the men for long enough. The forces had been equalised by four men being sent out of Jarette's boat to take the places of the men who had returned to their allegiance, and, as I watched them, I could see that as they slaved away at the oars, their leader kept jumping up with a pistol in his hand, to throw himself about wildly, stamping, gesticulating, and pointing to the ship, as if he were urging the crews on.

I was not the only one who used a glass, for there was nothing to do now but wait for the coming attack; and as I had been watching for some time with the glass on the rail, one eye shut, and the other close to the glass, I suddenly ceased, for my right eye felt dazzled by the glare of the sun, and I found that Mr Frewen was close beside me.

"Well, Dale," he said, "who will get tired first--these scoundrels of attacking us, or we of trying to beat them off?"

"They will," I said decisively, as I closed my glass and tucked it under my arm. "We've got nothing to do but wait; they've got to row miles in this hot sun, and then they have to fight afterwards. They can't help having the worst of it."

"Yes; they have the worst of it," he said, smiling.

"And it strikes me they'd be very glad to--Hurray! here's the wind again."

For the surface of the sea was dappled with dark patches, and long before the boats could reach us, we were sailing gently away, certainly twice as fast as their crews could row.

It is astonishing what effect those gentle breezes had upon our spirits. I found myself whistling and going to the galley to ask the cook what there was for dinner, and I found him singing, and polishing away at his tins, his galley all neat and clean, and the dinner well in progress.

"Well, mutineer," I said; "anything good to-day?"

"Oh, I do call that unkind, Mr Dale, sir, and it isn't true. Didn't I show you as soon as I could that I wasn't one of that sort?"

"Well, yes, you sneaked back when you thought your side was going to be beaten."

He looked at me fiercely, but smiled the next moment.

"Plain Irish stoo to-day, sir, made out of Noo Zealand mutton, for I found the onions. There's plenty of 'em. You don't mean what you said, sir. Just you have a pistol stuck in one of your ears, and be told that you're not to be a cook and a slave any more, but to join the adventurers who are going to live in a beautiful island of their own, where it's always fine weather, and if you don't you're to be shot. Why, of course I joined 'em, same as lots more did. Any fellow would rather live in a beautiful island than have his brains blown out."

"I don't know about that," I said shortly. "I wouldn't on Jarette's terms."

"No, sir, you wouldn't," said the cook; "but Mr Walters would."

As he spoke he lifted the lid off one of his pots, and gave the contents a stir round.

"Smell that, sir? There's nothing on Jarette's island as'll come up to that. But, between ourselves, I don't believe he knows of any island at all such as he talked about to the men, till he'd gammoned them or bullied them over. Hah!" he continued, tasting his cookery; "wants a dash more pepper and a twist of salt, and then that stuff's strong enough to do the skipper and Mr Denning more good than all the doctor's stuff. Young Walters, too; he's very bad, isn't he?"

"Terribly."

"Sarve him right. Wonderful island indeed! This galley's good enough island for me. You didn't mean that, Mr Dale, sir. I got out of the scrape as soon as I could, and so did those other three lads as come aboard with me; and we'll all fight jolly hard to keep from getting into it again. I believe that some of the others would drop the game, and be glad to get back on board, if they weren't afraid of Frenchy, as we call him. That man's mad as a hatter, sir."

"That's a true word, cookie," growled Bob Hampton. "You smell good, mate, but I wish you'd keep your door shut. It makes me feel mut'nous, and as if I wanted to turn pirate and 'tack the galley."

"Wind going to hold good, Bob?" I said, moving off.

"Arn't seen the clerk o' the weather this mornin', sir, so can't say."

"Jarette's mad--Jarette's mad," I repeated to myself as I left the galley, and found Mr Preddle, with his head very much swollen and tied up in a handkerchief, blowing away into the water where his fish still survived.

"I shall get some of them across after all," he said, with a nod.

"I hope so," I replied; and after a look at the far-distant boats--mere specks now--I went on aft to have a chat with Mr Denning, who lay on a mattress in the shade, with his sister reading to him; but there was his loaded gun lying beside him, to prove that it was not yet all peace. I stopped to sit down tailor-fashion on the deck and have a chat with them both, feeling pleased to see how their eyes lit-up, and what smiles greeted me; and somehow it seemed to me then that they felt toward me as if I were their younger brother, and they called me by my Christian name quite as a matter of course.

"If the wind would only keep on!" Miss Denning said.

"Or if Mr Preddle would only use those bellows of his on the sails," said her brother, smiling.

"Why, you're ever so much better," I said quickly, "or you wouldn't joke like that."

"Yes," he said with a sigh, "I feel better. Mr Frewen's doing me good, or else it's this lovely soft, warm air."

"Oh, we shall have him running ashore in New Zealand like a stag, Miss Denning," I cried, getting up.

"Don't go yet," she said.

"I must," I cried. "I want to stop, but Mr Brymer uses me now as his tongue and fists. I have to give all his orders to the men."

I went to where the mate was seated, received his orders, had them executed, and then met Mr Frewen coming out of Walters' cabin.

"Oh, there you are, Dale," he cried. "Go in and talk to that poor wretch for a few minutes. You must try and cheer him up, or he'll die, as sure as I'm here."

"Oh, I say, don't tell me that," I cried. "I don't like him, and I think he behaved horridly, but I don't want him to die."

I hurried into my messmate's cabin, and found him lying there so ghastly and strange-looking that I shivered, and began to move on tip-toe.

"Come and sit down a minute, Dale," he said in a weak voice; and I at once seated myself close to his bunk.

"Want some water?"

"No," he said sadly; "I want nothing now, only for you to promise me something."

"What is it?"

"I can't write, but I want you to promise me when you get home to go to my father and mother, and of course they'll know everything from the papers; but I want you, my messmate, to tell them I was not quite such a wretch as I seem to have been."

"Oh, never mind about that now," I said. "Get well, and go and tell them yourself."

"No," he said calmly; "I shall not get well. I could see it in Mr Frewen's eyes. I'm very glad now. If I got well, of course I should have to be tried and punished, and be a convict. I should deserve it, but the judge and lawyers would be very hard, and I don't want them to try me."

"Oh, come, Walters, old chap," I cried in a choking voice, "don't take it like that." And I caught his hand in mine, and felt him press it feebly, as his face lit-up with a pleasant smile, which made him look quite changed.

"Yes," he said, quite cheerfully, but almost in a whisper, "I must take it like that now. Old Jarette aimed too well."

He lay looking straight out of the bright cabin-window; while I tried to speak, but found no words would come. I knew that the wind had dropped again, for the ship had grown steady once more; but I forgot all about the approaching boats, and could only sit holding Walters' hand, and watching his altered face.

"Yes," he said at last, "Jarette aimed too straight, Dale, old fellow, it has all been a mistake. I was a weak, conceited fool, and thought every one was against me, when it was all my fault. I know it now. Any fellow can make himself liked if he only tries--no, without trying, if he'll only go straight and act like a man. But somehow I couldn't. I got jealous of you, and wild because people made so much of you. And I said you hated me, and did all you could to make things worse, but it wasn't true, Dale, old fellow. It was all my fault."

"Yes, yes; but that's all over, old chap," I said huskily. "You'll get well, and do your bit of punishment, and make a fresh start."

He looked at me with a smile on his poor wan face, and I never realised before how good-looking he was. And then I shuddered, for he said quietly--

"Yes, I shall make a fresh start--somewhere else."

"Walters!" I whispered.

"Yes, somewhere else," he repeated. "It was all wrong; and just when I was at my worst, that wretch, who had been watching me and reading it all, came to me, and, as if he were some evil spirit, kept on day after day, laughing and jeering at me, till he regularly worked round me like the snake he is, and flattered, and planned, and talked of the future, till in my weak, vain folly I drank it all in. For I was weak, and he was strong; and at last, though I didn't know it then, I was his slave, Dale, and ready to do every bit of villainy he wished. But there, I need not tell you any more. I only want you, knowing all you do, to go to my poor old father and mother and tell them everything--how it all happened. It will be better than for them only to know it from the papers. They will understand then how it was I went wrong so quickly, right to the bitter end."

"No," I cried; "you shall go and confess it all yourself."

He laughed gently.

"Oh no. I'm glad Jarette aimed so straight, Dale. It was the kindest thing he could do. It's all over now. Can't you see it's best?"

"No," I said more firmly. "It would be best for you to get well, and prove in the future as a man, that you have repented your weakness as a boy."

"Yes, perhaps," he said, after a long pause; "but it is not to be so. I'm not going to be tried here, Dale, where no one can tell everything, and understand how weak I was, and how, from the first day, I bitterly repented giving that man such power over me. I'm going to be judged there, Dale, where everything is known."

He closed his eyes as he spoke, and I was going to steal away, but his grasp tightened on my hand.

"Don't leave me, Dale," he whispered. "You'll promise all this, won't you?"

"If it is necessary," I said; "but you--"

He opened his eyes, and looked at me, smiling gently, and I ceased speaking, for I knew that my words were not true as I sat beside him all through that hot day waiting.

Mr Frewen came in from time to time, but he said little, and Walters appeared to be dozing for the most part.

"Better stay," Mr Frewen whispered; and then in answer to my questioning look, he shook his head, and I knew that it was all over.

It was close upon sundown, and the interior of the cabin was filled with an orange glow when Mr Frewen came in again.

Walters seemed to be fast asleep, quite free from pain, and breathing easily.

"You must be terribly faint, my lad. You have had nothing," the doctor whispered.

"Yes, I have," I replied. "Bob Hampton brought me a biscuit and some soup, and Miss Denning brought me some tea just now."

"Heaven bless her!" he muttered. Then in a quick whisper--"We shall have to call you up presently, my lad."

"Why?"

"The enemy are closing in. They'll make a desperate fight of it this time, and every help we can muster is necessary. Eh! Want me?" he said, as there was a tap on the door.

He went out, and I was thinking whether I could withdraw my hand without waking Walters, so as to get out on deck and help, when he opened his eyes and looked round quickly as if he wondered where he was.

Then he saw me and smiled.

"Don't forget, Dale," he whispered. "Now I want Miss Denning."

He loosened my hand, and I went out to find her waiting close by the door.

"Walters wants to see you, Miss Denning," I said, and she bowed her head and crept silently into the ruddily-lit cabin, and knelt down by where Walters lay.

"Yes," he said, holding out his hands. "Thank you. But you tell them-- how sorry--they will listen--to you.--Now--'Our Father'--"

Helena Denning's voice took up the words and went on in a low appealing murmur, and as I looked wildly in Walters' face, I saw his lips moving till she uttered the words--"and forgive us our trespasses--"

Then his lips became motionless, his gaze fixed on the golden glory in the heavens, and I started wildly to my feet, for at that moment there was a tremendous roar. The heavily-charged cannon had been fired, and I knew that the enemy were close at hand.

I gave one glance at Miss Denning, who knelt there now, crouching low, with her face buried in her hands, and then ran on deck ready to help repel the attack.

For there were the two boats close into the port-gangway, and the men in them frantically gesticulating and waving their hands.

"Don't--don't fire," one of the men yelled. "We give in."

"Yes, yes; give in," came in a wild chorus.

"The beggars surrender, sir," cried Bob Hampton, who was on his knees re-charging the cannon. "But get that there poker ready again, Neb. We'll hit 'em next time if they don't."

"Ahoy!" cried Mr Brymer, through a speaking-trumpet. "One boat come forward; but if there is any treachery, we'll show no mercy to any one there."

"Treachery?" shouted a man pitifully, as the first boat was slowly rowed in. "We're all spent, sir. There arn't a drop o' water. Give us all a drink first, and then shoot us if you like."

"Where's Jarette?"

"Here, in the bottom, sir, tied neck and heels. He went stark mad last night, and bit and fought till we had to tie him down under the thwarts."

"Water--water!--for heaven's sake, water!" came in a piteous chorus, as the second boat rowed slowly in.

"Is it real or a trick?" said Mr Brymer, in a whisper.

"Real enough," said Mr Frewen. "The men are suffering horribly, and-- oh! look! There's no subterfuge there,--that man--Jarette. He is dead!" _

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