TABLE of CONTENTS

CHAPTER I—THE PRICE OF A DEGREE.

CHAPTER II—A SHIP IS FOUND.

CHAPTER III—GOOD-BYE TO EVERYBODY.

CHAPTER IV—THE SHIP AND HER COMPANY.

CHAPTER V—IN THE QUEEN’S NAME.

CHAPTER VI—A BAD BEGINNING.

CHAPTER VII—THE STEWARD’S THEORIES.

CHAPTER VlIl—I SEE A GHOST.

CHAPTER IX—VERY MUCH AT SEA.

CHAPTER X—THIE GHOST REAPPEARS.

CHAPTER XI—CROSS-EXAMINING A SPECTRE.

CHAPTER XII—THE CAPTAIN’S PRINCIPLES.

CHAPTER XIII—IN THE SOUTH.

CHAPTER XIV—A THIEF ABOARD.

CHAPTER XV—WHO WAS THE THIEF?

CHAPTER XVI—THE LAUGH IS AGAINST ME.

CHAPTER XVII—THE GATEWAY TO THE PACIFIC.

CHAPTER XVIII—THE KRAKATOA ERUPTION.

CHAPTER XIX—THE VOLCANIC WAVE.

CHAPTER XX—THE SHIP IS DISABLED.

CHAPTER XXI—THE CAPTAIN’S PLAN.

CHAPTER XXII—I ASTONISH THE CAPTAIN.

CHAPTER XXIII—AMONG THE ISLANDS.

CHAPTER XXIV—WE REACH MAORI ISLAND.

CHAPTER XXV—AN EVENING’S EXPLORATION.

CHAPTER XXVI—‘LAY YOUR GUN ACROSS YOUR KNEES.’

CHAPTER XXVII—WE LEAVE OUR MOORINGS.

CHAPTER XXVIII—A WHOLESALE DESERTION.

CHAPTER XXIX—WE SLIP OUR CABLE.

CHAPTER XXX—FROM BAD TO WORSE.

CHAPTER XXXI—A NATIVE VISITOR.

CHAPTER XXXII—THE CAPTAIN’S CAUTION.

CHAPTER XXXIII—A ROYAL LEVfÉE.

CHAPTER XXXIV—WE ARE HADE PRISONERS.

CHAPTER XXXV—OUR CAPTOR’S PROPOSALS.

CHAPTER XXXVI—WE ACCEPT THE TERMS.

CHAPTER XXXVII—WE ARE LEFT TO OUR OWN DEVICES.

CHAPTER XXXVIII—THE ONLY DEVICE LEFT TO US.

CHAPTER XXXIX—THE ARTFUL RAJAH.

CHAPTER XL—A GREAT SURPRISE.

CHAPTER XLI—OUR TURN COMES AT LAST.

CHAPTER XLII—AT THE HEAD OF OUR MEN.

CHAPTER XLIII—ONCE MORE ON OUR OWN DECK.

CHAPTER XLIV—THE RAJAH’S PUNISHMENT.

LIST of ILLUSTRATIONS

- ‘F0IRE AWAY ME LAD,’ WAS THE ANSWER FROM THE MAINMAST.

- IF YOU DARE TO STIR FROM WHERE YOU ARE, I’LL SEND A BULLET THROUGH YOU."

- “‘WE PLACED THE RECORD HERE WHEN WE FIRST VISITED THE ISLAN’D, SAID THE CAPTAIN.

- THE RAJAH WENT STAMPING UP AND DOWN THE FLOOR OF THE PALACE, WAVING HIS SWORD MORE WILDLY THAN HE HAD YET DONE.

CHAPTER I

THE PRICE OF A DEGREE.

I HAVE been induced to undertake the narrative of the adventures I met with during the eleven months that I was absent from England, and I hope that I shall succeed in interesting even those boys who have never heard either my name or the name of the good ship aboard which I spent so many pleasant and—it must be confessed—extremely unpleasant days. To be sure, a fuss was made about this same ship, the ‘ Great Orion,’ and her voyage; but as more than two years have passed since the newspapers published their paragraphs respecting our adventures, I dare say much of what I may write about will be quite new to English boys, who as a rule, unlike their fathers, can manage to eat hearty breakfasts without having first read the morning paper.

I frankly admit that my motives for undertaking the task of writing a book are selfish. Some people may write books with unselfish motives; but I don’t think that these people are any more numerous than the tradesmen who open shops for the sake of selling all manner of useful articles ‘ under cost price.’ The fact is, that I have been visited during the past year by so many persons— the majority total strangers to me—who expressed a desire to learn all that I went through from the time I left England until, by the goodness of Providence, I once again came in view of the coast I knew so well, that I have become rather tired of repeating, almost daily, the same story; and so I have come to the conclusion that it would be wise to embody my experience in a book, which all who run—by train, to see me and hear my story—may read. Having thus frankly admitted my selfish motives, I venture to hope that no one will accuse me of vanity.

My story begins with a headache—I hope that none of my readers will end it with one. I had been reading pretty hard for several months at Oxford for my degree. The result was the headache to which I have just alluded. I had never been troubled with such a complaint before, and in fact I had come to regard headache as something existing only in the imagination of girls, who find it a convenient though a somewhat vague excuse for failing to put in an appearance to entertain a disagreeable visitor. There was, however, nothing vague about my attack of headache. I awoke with it one morning, and I felt that I could heartily sympathise with the sufferings of the unhappy man who wore—from necessity, not choice—the red-hot iron crown long ago.

I managed to get out of bed and to dress myself, but reading was out of the question. I tried, by the advice of a brother student, the cold-water cure for my headache, sitting for a couple of hours with a wet towel bound like a turban about my brows. Strange to say, I felt no relief from this. In the course of the day a second friend paid me a visit, and, on hearing of my suffering, promptly disappeared, and returned in a short time accompanied by a doctor.

‘ My boy,’ said the doctor after cross-questioning me, and making sure that I had not been overtraining myself or going in too eagerly for gymnastics—it never seemed to occur to him that anyone in the college might injure himself by overreading—‘ My boy, your system is altogether out of order. You have let yourself run down—you have been exercising your brain. You must give up all of this sort of thing.’

I began exercising my brain with a view to find out how, if I took this advice, I should get my degree, when the doctor continued his prescription.

‘You must run home without a moment’s delay, even if your home is in Connemara or the Orkney Islands. You must not open a book for at least six months. Now get a railway guide and find out when the first train leaves for your home.’

‘ What! ’ I cried, ‘ send for a railway guide, when you have just declared that I must not open a book for six months! Oh, no, doctor; I esteem your advice far too highly to send for a railway guide. Give me some pill or dose, or something that will send me to sleep for ten hours or so, and I shall be all right, I promise you.’

He got into a rage, or pretended to do so, and declared that he would not be responsible for the consequences if I did not immediately leave college and return home. Considering that I had never asked him to be responsible for anything, I could not help laughing at his earnestness, though I knew that he was anxious to do his best for me. After some further discussion I compromised the matter with the doctor by promising that if I did not feel myself fully recovered by the next day I would throw aside my books and get home without delay.

‘ It’s all nonsense to make such an agreement,’ said the doctor, putting on his gloves, ‘ for you’ll not be better to-morrow; you’ll be worse, and the day after you’ll be worse still, and then—well, I’ll not say what then.’

I laughed, so he went away. I remained lying back on my little sofa for about an hour, I should say.

‘ What! ’ I thought, ‘ shall I give up all ideas respecting the exam.? Shall my seven months of hard reading go for nothing? How can a fellow break down all in a moment? I have never had a touch of headache until this morning, and I am convinced that this visitation is an accident. I will shake it off’

I forced myself to rise. I gathered my books on my table and worked for exactly six hours—in agony at first, but after the first couple of hours in complete freedom from pain. I attended a couple of lectures and, after dining, worked for a few hours before going to bed. My headache had departed in spite of what the doctor had said.

Alas! the next morning I was undeceived. I woke with my poor head throbbing like a doubleaction printing-machine with extra pressure on the boiler. Remembering, however, the system that I had pursued with such success on the previous day, I resolved to repeat it. I rose, took a cup of coffee and a slice of toast, and settled myself once more at my books. When the doctor paid me a visit, about midday, I was in a condition truthfully to declare that I had no headache.

‘You are a fool,’he cried in response. ‘You have a headache—you can’t avoid having one—only you have become intoxicated with those books of yours and so don’t feel any pain. I’ll leave you to yourself. You are pig-headed.’

‘At any rate my pig’s head doesn’t ache,’ I cried. He glared at me, gave an exclamation of impatience, and picked up his hat as if it had been a refractory child.

‘ You’ll get that precious degree,’ he cried as he pulled on his gloves. ‘Yes, you’ll get it, but you’ll regret it as long as you live—that is, for three weeks or a month.’

‘ Au revoir,’ I said, smiling at his vehemence.

‘ No,’ he cried, ‘ not au revoir—good-bye, goodbye! ’

He would have succeeded in frightening me if I had not given all my attention to my books.

The doctor was right up to a certain point. I did obtain my degree. The examination lasted for three days. I must confess that I felt very weak while I worked out my papers, but only in the mornings had I the least headache. The relief I felt when, on the evening of the third day,

I found myself in my rooms, with the oak sported to keep out intruders, cannot be described. I threw myself on the sofa, and I must have fallen asleep almost immediately.

When I awoke I found myself seated at my table. The lamp was burning, though I had no recollection of lighting it, and my door was as securely locked as when I had gone to sleep. This was strange; but stranger than all was a discovery I made when I had turned up the lamp, that was burning low. Upon the table were a number of slips of paper, closely written over, and some with the ink not yet dry upon their surface. On looking over these, I found, to my great amazement, that they contained exactly what I had written upon the examination papers which I had worked out on this day.

What could this mean, I wondered. Was it possible that I had by some terrible mistake put the examination papers in my pocket and brought them here to my rooms? No: I remembered clearly seeing them taken from the desk I had occupied when in the awful presence of the examiners. When the truth flashed across me that I had in my sleep arisen from the sofa, lit the lamp, and worked out, for the second time, the examination papers, I confess that I felt frightened.

Something was evidently wrong with the machinery of my brain. I had never before been guilty of somnambulism, and I knew that such a fit would not come upon me unless my health were seriously impaired. I looked at my watch, and was astonished to find that the hour was three in the morning; so that I must have been in the room for nearly nine hours. How many hours I had passed in sleep—that is, the proper, natural sleep ‘that knits up the ravelled sleeve of care’—and how many in that unnatural condition known as somnambulism, I could not tell, and the effort to make the calculation was an agony to me now, though the papers on the table showed that during the night I had done a good deal in the calculating way.

I rose from the chair where I had found myself; but then—well, I can scarcely say what happened then. I had a queer dream of being turned into a comet and forced to compute my periodic times of coming within view of the earth—this had formed the substance of one of the examination papers. Then I fancied that I utterly failed to work out the calculation, and that as a punishment I was broken into meteors; and I remember distinctly doing my best to gather up my own fragments— I need hardly say that such attempts resulted in ignominious failure. Then I fancied, by one of those strange jumbles that occur in a dream—most frequently after an indiscreet supper—that I was standing on a lonely rock in the middle of an ocean whose waves surged heavily around me on every side. It was night, and the wind was howling like a pack of wolves that have been kept on short commons for a week. Suddenly there came in sight a great ship with strange blood-red sails, and at the same instant the doctor appeared by my side on the rock.

‘ What ship is that? ’ I cried eagerly.

‘That is your scholarship, my boy,’ he answered in a hoarse voice, and then laughed loudly. In another instant the vessel had run upon the rock, the jibboom struck me on the head and then tossed me into the air as if it had been the horn of a unicorn. I went up and up, and then, naturally enough, I came down and down; I fell into the water with a splash, and continued going down and down until—

‘ Hold hard, George, old chap; let some of the clothes stay on the bed, if only as samples.’

The voice was that of my young brother Jack.

I opened my eyes. I was lying in bed in my room. Jack was sitting by my side, and on the table were a number of bottles of various sizes, a measuring-glass, and a tumbler.

‘ Hallo! ’ I said. ‘ Where am I? How did you come here? Where’s the ship? ’

‘What ship?’ said Jack, with his eyes staring.

‘The “ Scholarship ”—the doctor said that was her name.’

‘You may well ask about a ship, for you’re all at sea yourself,’ Jack replied, with a laugh. ‘Now don’t you worry yourself, old chap,’ he continued. ‘That exam, nearly did for you. You don’t know, I suppose, that you have been laid up for the past ten days—ever since the exam.— raving mad now and again, talking about comets and how they come back in so many thousand years, days, hours, and seconds—you were very particular about the seconds and decimals, as if it mattered whether they ever returned or not; and then you yarned me until further notice about a heap of other things. But I forgot—you are not to be talked to; you are to sleep, so the doctor says. Now, be off to sleep like an express train.’ ‘I’ll do my best in that way, Jack. But first tell me what has been the matter with me? ’

‘ Oh, something of the fever order, but not a fever, the doctor said,’ replied Jack to my inquiry. -You let yourself run down to nothing, like a mechanical top that wants winding up. We’re winding you up now.’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ said I. ‘I don’t remember anything except being at my table— yes, I worked out the exam, papers a second time in my sleep. Is there any news about the exam. Jack?’

‘ The announcement was just made this morning,’ he replied.

‘ Well? ’

‘ Well! Of course you have got your degree. You didn’t fancy you’d let yourself run down for nothing, did you? Now make yourself comfortable, and don’t try to think.’

I lay back on the pillow and did my best to obey Jack, though he was usually the advised one and I the adviser. After some time I succeeded in thinking about nothing, and fell into a dreamless sleep.

In a few days I was able to leave college; and with my mother and Jack, both of whom had been nursing me while my illness lasted, I returned home to Fairthorpe. From the moment I saw in the degree list the name ‘ Mostyn, Georgius,’ I began to mend. Still, it could not be said that, even with the careful nursing which I received at home, I was making satisfactory progress towards convalescence. I had, indeed, allowed my system to run down completely while reading for the degree.

When I had been a month at Fairthorpe, and it was found that I was scarcely gaining any strength, my father went to London one morning, and returned the next day with one of the most eminent physicians.

I had the honour of being cross-examined by this distinguished gentleman, and the result of his consideration of my case was communicated to me by my father in the evening.

‘ Sir Courtenay Marsh says you must take a long sea voyage, George,’ said my father.

‘ Then I will take a long sea voyage,’ I replied. ‘ I only wish he’d prescribe the same dose for me,’ cried Jack.

CHAPTER II

A SHIP IS FOUND.

I CANNOT say that I looked forward to a long sea voyage with unmixed feelings of pleasure. The fact was, I may as well confess at once, that I had set my heart upon getting married within a year after leaving college. Lily Cranstoun was the daughter of the Rector of Fairthorpe. We had known each other since we had been children together, and the question of our marriage was merely a question of time. Of course my father, as well as the rector, had said that there was no need for such an event to be hurried on; there would be plenty of time to think of our getting married when I should have left college and lived at home for a year or two. Curiously enough, I could not be brought to look upon the matter in the same light, though I generally agreed with my father and the rector. I thought it would be better to get married at once, as I was now twenty-one, and think over the matter quietly afterwards—for the rest of my life perhaps; and so it had come to be understood that Lily and I were to be married in the autumn of next year. If I were forced to take a long voyage now, of course I should have to abandon my hopes in this direction for some time at least.

Under these circumstances it can easily be believed, I am sure, that it was not from my heart I agreed to obey the great doctor.

‘ It is your only means of complete restoration to health,’ said my father; ‘ and I am glad to see that you are not afraid to face Sir Courtenay’s prescription. I hope your mother will be equally reasonable. I have every confidence, at any rate, that Lily will look at the matter in its proper light.’

‘ I am sure she will,’ I replied.

‘ Of course it would be pleasant if we could have carried out our intentions as regards your marriage.’

‘ It would indeed have been pleasant,’ I admitted willingly.

‘ But you are both young,’ continued my father; ‘ and a year or so apart before you are married will do you both all the good in the world.’

I quite failed to see the wisdom of this statement at the time. I do so now, however. The heart of every true man and woman is strengthened by suffering, as iron is strengthened by the blows it receives on the anvil.

My mother bore with resignation the news that I was to leave home for a year. My beloved Lily, when she heard that we were to be parted for so long, was at first overcome with grief; but soon, like the noble girl that she was, and is, she dried her tears, and, putting her hand in mine, said:

‘ I can bear it, George, if you come back quite restored in health.’

' I promise you, darling, to do my best to get back my health,’ I said. ‘ No Royalist during the time of Cromwell worked half so zealously to bring about the Restoration as I shall work to restore my health.’

All that remained to be done was to find a vessel suitable for my purpose. It would, of course, have been easy enough for me to have bought a return cabin ticket aboard one of the Orient line of steamers, and have made the voyage to Australia and back; or to have stepped aboard a P. and O. steamer bound for China. After talking over the matter, however, with several persons who had made such voyages, my father and I came to the conclusion that, in order to obtain the fullest advantage to be derived from a long sea voyage, I should become a passenger aboard a sailing-ship, and not a steamer. After some inquiry at the principal ports for a first-class vessel about to leave for a long voyage to the East, under the command of a captain who could be trusted not to run any risks when so valuable a life as mine would be in his keeping, a correspondent of my father’s at Liverpool telegraphed to us to the effect that he had successfully negotiated with the owners of a fine full-rigged ship, almost new, named the ‘ Great Orion,’ to take me as passenger on her next vovage.

My father hastened off to Liverpool to inspect the vessel personally and to find out by an interview with the captain whether or not he was a man that I should be likely to get on with. It is no trifling matter taking a voyage that may last the greater part of a year, in one ship. The comfort of a passenger must be dependent in a large measure upon the character of the captain and his capacity for making one feel at home. It would be awkward if I were to find about the middle of the Indian Ocean that the captain of the ‘ Great Orion' and I had nothing in common, or that he was inclined to be a bully, or to drink more spirituous liquors than were consistent with the proper discharge of his duties in sailing the ship. On shore, if a fellow objects to his lodgings he can always give notice to the landlord; but when he is a couple of thousand miles from the nearest coast, there is more or less difficulty in the way of carrying out a threat of giving notice. My father declared that he was not half so particular about the ship as about the captain in whose charge I was to be placed.

‘ If a ship runs straight upon a rock it scarcely matters whether she is a fine clipper or a Dutch galliot,’ he said; ‘ she will go to pieces as quickly if the cabins are upholstered in the best plush as if they were done in inferior American cloth. But if she has a careful commander, the chances are that she will not be found with the point of a rock through her timbers some fine morning.’

He went to Liverpool one day, and returned the next bearing a glowing account of the ‘ Great Orion ’ and her master, Captain Harwood. The vessel was eleven hundred tons register, and ship-rigged. She was well found in every respect, and her cabins were roomy, and not those stuffy holes which were formerly regarded as affording ample accommodation for the officers and passengers on the old ships. My father was, however, more enthusiastic in his account of the captain than of the vessel. Captain Harwood was, he said, looked upon by the owners of the ‘ Great Orion ’ as by far the ablest and most trustworthy officer in their service. He had been sailing to the East during a period of fifteen years and had never lost a ship that he commanded. He had been presented with a share in the ‘ Great Orion ’ for the ability he had displayed in certain transactions in respect to a cargo consigned to a merchant at Melbourne, who had become bankrupt before the arrival of the vessel. The shrewdness of the captain had saved the owners some thousands of pounds; and now, having an interest in the ship, he was about to take her on a voyage to Bombay and thence to Sydney.

The owners did not guarantee that the voyage of the ‘ Great Orion ’ would be in every particular as announced; for the fact was that freights were so low between English and foreign ports, that taking a cargo direct to Bombay would not be profitable. The captain was to use his own discretion as to the course to be pursued after discharging at the Indian port. It was quite likely that the vessel would run up to Maul mein or Rangoon before going to the China Seas, and then her stay at Sydney before returning home would be indefinite. The judgment of the captain would alone control the course of the vessel.

‘That is the very thing for me,’ said I to my father on his return with a full account of the ‘ Great Orion ’ and her captain. ‘ I don’t want to take an ordinary voyage that may be mapped out months beforehand: I want something out of the common—I should like to visit some strange out-of-the-way places; and, with the captain of the “ Great Orion ” using his own judgment, I think it may be taken for granted that my wishes will be gratified.’

‘ I hope,’ said my mother, ‘ that you will not have to go to any dangerous place, George, and that the voyage will not last altogether longer than a year.’

The dear mater was, I could see, at the point of breaking down now that our plans were all but completed and I was ready to say good-bye. My sister Bertha, too, was very sad at heart, though the dear girl was doing her best to keep up the spirits of everyone else, laughing and making merry little jests about the likelihood of my landing on some island in the Pacific and marrying half-a-dozen wives—she called them squaws, having read some of Jack’s exciting stories of the North American Indians.

As for my brother himself, the fellow made no pretence of being in grief at my departure; he declared that he knew very well that I was delighted at the prospect of travelling about the world, for I had often confessed to him long ago that there was nothing I should like better than taking a series of long voyages to nowhere in particular. For his own part, he announced his willingness to go abroad in my place if I should change my mind; he assured us all that his goodnature was so great that, if our father had the least suspicion that I would not be able to take care of myself, he would gladly give up Eton for a year for the sake of looking after me. On the whole, then, our household bore up very well against the hour of parting, and my beloved Lily allowed no one to see whatever tears she may have shed during my week of preparation.

On the day before that fixed for my departure for Liverpool I was strong enough to walk through my father’s park, and on to our pretty little fishing village of Fairthorpe to say good-bye to all my good friends there. I knew every man, woman, and child in the village. They were my father’s tenants, and I was of course bound to shake hands with everyone.

I gave myself plenty of time for the discharge of this duty, and by the end of the second hour I was in a position to write a chapter describing what would be the probable sensations of a pump-handle at the close of a long and unusually thirsty summer’s day.

The last of the inhabitants whom I saw was an old man named Hiram, who had been a smack owner as long as I could remember. He helped to look after our yacht and boats, and it was from him I had gained all that I knew of seamanship.

‘ Well, Master George, sir,’ said he, ‘ you are goin’ to do what every lad that’s worth his salt is bound to do sooner or later. There’s nothin’ like the salt sea, and plenty of it, for puttin’ a backbone into a lad, whether he means to folly the sea or become a squire, or maybe a parson—all of them needs a backbone, and that bit o’ anatummy doesn’t grow ashore. Landsmen has a bit o’ elastic for a backbone—they has to put up with it, for, says I, the backbone comes from holdin’ your face again a gale o’ wind, with a dash o’ salt spray in it maybe.’

‘ You’re right there, Hiram,’ I replied. ‘ I don’t think that there is anything so good for a fellow as a while at sea.’

' It’s a fact, Master George, sir. A while at sea is an eddycation in itself, particklerly when it makes a lad settle down ashore after. A life afloat is one constant fight, some people says—and I don’t say but what they may be right in the main; but if it are a fight, I says, then a bit o’ a fight like that is the best thing for a lad that wants to turn out a real man—a man with a backbone. When I heard that you was thinkin’ o’ takin’ a voy’ge, says I, “ Master George, mark my words, won’t look about for one o’ them iron pots that they call steamers for to take him a trip across the ’lantic inside a ’ week, as I hear they do it in nowaday; no,” says I, “ he’ll look about for a ship that is a ship ”; and you’ve done it, Master George, and you’ll never be sorry that you’ve done it.’

‘ Ah, you see, all that you taught me was not thrown away, Hiram,’ said I. At this his face wrinkled itself up into an expression of supernatural sagacity. He seemed the most knowing old boy in the world, though he really was as simple as a child. He chuckled, for some moments, winking like an owl, and then he began to gurgle deep down in his throat in a way that would have frightened most people, making them fancy that he was at the point of having a fit. I knew, however, that he was only laughing—it was his way; but unless a person knew him, his peculiarities were rather terrifying.

He chuckled and gurgled so long that even I, who was fully acquainted with his powers, began to be alarmed. Suddenly he became solemn.

' Maybe you did learn summut from me, Master George, sir,’ he managed to murmur, as though he were particularly anxious that no one should overhear him. ‘ Maybe you did learn summut from me. If you did you’ll hear me now, when I make bold to speak to you as if I was preachin’.’

‘ Indeed I will listen to anything you have to say to me, Hiram.’

‘ It’s only one bit o’ advice, Master George, but it’s the best I know for anyone goin’ to sea. It has stood to me many a time, and maybe you’ll find it stand to you. It’s this, Master George: never give up hope for yourself or anybody else, wherever you may be, in all weathers, at all times, and in all places. Keep up your heart by tellin’ yourself, what’s a fact, there’s nothin’ happens in the world by chance; everything is brought about for a purpose. Think o’ that, Master George; think o’ that, and God bless you.’

The tears were running down the furrows of the old man’s face. I took his hand and felt his firm hold over my thin fingers. I could not speak a word, and in another moment we had parted.

CHAPTER III

GOOD-BYE TO EVERYBODY.

ON leaving Hiram I walked along the shore for some distance, thinking of the more bitter parting that was still before me. Lily had promised to meet me on my return from the village, and I knew that she would keep her promise. I left the shore way, and strolled up the little track that led to the summit of the sand-cliffs. I reached the summit, and stood there gazing at the scene—the long curved bay of brown sand, with the low rocks, at one point; the little village, with a single street and white cottages, just below, at the other side. The fishing-fleet were getting ready for their evening’s work, and I could hear the words of the men as they hoisted the peak of a mainsail or shook off the nets from the stays where they had been hung to dry.

I knew the scene well. I had known it in all its details from my childhood. I looked upon it as one might gaze upon a familiar face; but suddenly there flashed across my mind the thought, ‘ Shall I ever see it again? ’ I could not help thinking for the moment that the scene was before me for the last time, and I felt sadder than I had yet done since I had made up my mind to go abroad.

I turned away, and soon got upon the little track leading across the sand-cliffs to the inland road. I expected to meet Lily at some part of this road, and thought that I should have caught sight of her figure in the distance. There was no one there, however, except a man who was following a cart laden with seaweed for a farm.

I allowed the cart and its driver to get a good start of me, and then, feeling somewhat chilly, I began walking briskly along in the faint spring twilight. I wished to banish, so far as it was in my power, the feeling of sadness that had come upon me. I meant to keep up my own spirits as well as the spirits of my beloved Lily.

The church stands some little way off the road, about a mile beyond the fishing village, but I reached the square ivy-clad tower without meeting her. I was thinking that perhaps I had kept her waiting on the road too long and she had returned to the rectory, when I noticed that the gate of the avenue leading up to the church was open. I passed through, and then I saw that the door of the church itself was half open. Standing there for an instant, I heard the soft sounds of the organ, playing a prelude that seemed like the voice of distant waters moving around a low shoreway of rocks. Then arose the tones of a voice that I knew well, singing a hymn we had often sung together.

I gently passed through the porch and into the dim church. I knelt there beside a tomb, on which a marble angel was also kneeling, and I listened while my beloved sang through the verses.

I remained on my knees in the church until the sweet voice had died away, and once more the music of the organ sounded like the moan of a mysterious sea. She lifted her fingers from the ivory keys and clasped her hands, bowing her head over the keyboard. I knew that she was praying for my safety.

That night was a mournful one for all of us at home. In these days, when a fellow takes a trip to the Rocky Mountains or Tierra del Fuego, to Kamtschatka or the Zambesi, without going through any more formalities of parting with his relations than a shake of the hand—when a fellow drops in quietly to breakfast with another, and, on being asked where he has been for the past week or two, not having been seen about the club as usual, replies, ‘ I have just returned from paying a round of visits in the Fiji Islands; I couldn’t really put off my friends there any longer with excuses’—in these days of distant travel, I say, it seemed curious that we should all be so melancholy this evening; but so we were. There seemed to be a cloud hanging over us that we could not disperse. I really felt relieved when I found myself alone in my room.

I was not left alone for long, however. Jack entered without much ceremony, bringing with him a gift—a silver-mounted revolver, in a pretty mahogany case.

‘ I know you haven’t a revolver, old boy,’ said he, ‘ and you don’t suppose you’ll have need for one. People don’t meet with adventures nowadays, you say, and as you’re not going among the miners of California, where, according to the stories, every fellow fires at another fellow two or three times a day, you won’t carry a “ shootin’-iron.” ’

‘ I won’t say any such thing, Jack,’ I cried.

‘ Well, I thought you would say so, and I was going to say that no fellow should be too sure, when he goes away like this, that he won’t meet with just as rum adventures as any of the other fellows that went away to sea long ago and discovered places and fought with savages. There are plenty of places to discover and heaps of savages still left in the world, and no fellow can be quite sure that he won’t have need for a revolver when he goes away as you are going.’

‘I’ll never go to sleep without your present being within easy reach, dear old boy,’ said I. ‘ There really is no knowing what may occur. There are, as you say, plenty of savages both at home and abroad, and their savage nature is best kept under when they know that a man is provided with the means of doing so.’

‘Right you are, George, cried Jack. ‘I don’t want you to keep this in your pocket to pop away at every savage you meet,’ he added seriously; ‘but don’t let them cheek you. Remember that you are a free Briton, and that the honour of your country should be dearer to you than life.’

‘Just so,’ I said. ‘ I’ll do my best to take your advice.’ I knew that Jack had been reading a good many of the old sea stories about bold buccaneers and desperate pirates, and he had evidently become impressed with the definition one of the heroes had given of the whole duty of a free Briton under trying circumstances.

‘And look here, George,’ he added, after a pause,‘if ever you find yourself in a great difficulty —if you are captured by pirates or cannibals, or if the crew of the ship you are on mutiny—you may depend on my going to your rescue if I can only find out where you are.’

‘ I’ll drop you a line, never fear,’ I answered with a laugh.

Poor Jack turned red.

‘Now don’t go laughing at me,’ he cried. ‘It may be nonsense that I’m talking, but nobody knows whether it may not turn out to be sound sense. Don’t we read every day in the papers of stranger things happening than ever Fenimore Cooper or Captain Marryat wrote about? But nowadays every fellow forgets what he reads in the newspaper.’

‘My dear Jack,’ I said gravely, ‘all that you have said is perfectly true. No one knows what may come about at sea—nothing is too improbable to happen. I know what a brave heart you have, and you may be sure that if ever I should be in a terrible strait and need assistance, I will trust in your doing all that is in your power to help me.’

‘Agreed!’ cried Jack. ‘I’ll find you if you are in the heart of an unexplored country and in the midst of the fiercest savages that ever shot a poisoned arrow.’

We clasped hands, and Jack looked very brave. Before our hands were loosed, however, he had burst into tears. He rushed from the room leaving me alone.

CHAPTER IV

THE SHIP AND HER COMPANY.

ABOARD the ‘ Great Orion.’ The tug that brought us out of the Mersey has just I cast off, and we are standing off the North-West Lightship. An immense Atlantic liner, anxious, no doubt, to beat by a few minutes the ‘ fastest passage on record,’ is steaming across our bows. She rushes through the waves without any more fuss than she would make if the sea were perfectly smooth, though our bows are rising and dipping as if they were part of a big steam-engine at work. I stand on the poop deck watching the progress of the big steamer. She does not seem to have half the speed of the tug that is paddling away astern; but before I have time to remark this, the Atlantic steamer is out on the horizon, while the tug has scarcely re-entered the river.

The hands have been aloft shaking out the sails ever since the tug cast off. A fresh breeze is blowing, and we mean to make the most of it. The captain is on the poop deck astern, and the two mates, Mr. Borrows and Mr. Merrick, are amidships giving orders every now and again, which the boatswain translates to the men aloft through the medium of his whistle—a shrill penetrating pipe like the note of a seabird. Though I have been accustomed to the management of a yacht all my life, I am in every sense ‘ at sea ’ aboard a full-rigged ship such as the ‘Great Orion.’ I do not quite realise the system of halliards, braces, and running gear; but as sail after sail is set I begin to understand the uses of everything, and fancy I could almost steer the ship myself.

Captain Harwood is a man of perhaps a year or two under forty. He is a tall athletic man with a short beard joined on to dipt whiskers and moustache. He has a pair of very keen eyes, and all that is left to view of his face is copper-coloured. No one could possibly mistake his calling. The sailor is indelibly stamped upon every feature, and appears, as I now notice for the first time, in every movement of his upon the deck. The pitching of the ship he treats with indifference, and he takes no notice whatever of the rolling. I have not yet got my sea legs, but he seems never to have parted with his. I have never seen him ashore, but I am convinced that he walks as if the streets were as frequently off the level as the deck of the ship. He gives a glance aloft every now and again, and says a word or two to the steersman, but beyond this he takes no active part in the management of the vessel.

Mr. Borrows, the chief mate, is evidently the captain’s senior by a year or two. He is a gravefaced man with a very red beard and short straight hair of the same colour. He wears a cap with a curious arched peak that overhangs the upper part of his face—indeed, only that his nose is a remarkably long specimen, it would also be hidden by this peak. He is a restless man, I notice, and he gives his orders with an earnestness that would, I am sure, startle a nervous boatswain. One could easily fancy that Mr. Borrows was convinced that upon the carrying out of the simplest order with the utmost dispatch the entire safety of the ship depended.

The second mate is a very young man, and he does not seem disposed to rush about as Mr. Borrows does. Mr. Merrick gives his orders in a tone no louder than is necessary, and he more frequently contents himself with merely making a sign to the men in his neighbourhood in the fore part of the ship.

I made these observations from where I was standing on the poop as the ‘ Great Orion ’ beat out to the Channel, for the wind was not in our favour. I thought it best to bestow all my attention upon the ship and the ship’s company, lest I should find myself giving way to the very mournful feelings which I knew were endeavouring to assert themselves, but to which I determined not to yield. It is not the actual moment of parting that is so bitter: it is when one finds oneself alone after a while, and begins to think how changed everything is in the absence of the loved ones.

I did not allow my thoughts to wander from the present to the past, and I soon became so interested in what was going on that no effort was needed on my part to keep down my gloomy reflections.

At last everything seemed to be satisfactory to Mr. Borrows. The boatswain’s pipe sounded less frequently and the men were reappearing on deck from aloft. We were sailing very close to the wind, but were making as much progress as could be expected.

‘ Well, Mr. Mostyn,’ said the captain, coming to my side, ‘ has the cure begun to work yet? Do you feel any better for your first half-hour aboard the ship? ’

‘ As a matter of fact, I do,’ I answered. ‘ I feel stronger and clearer-headed than I have done for a long time. I can’t say that I could walk the deck quite as jauntily as you do, but I’ll be able to toe a line with anyone aboard the ship in the course of another week. There’s no fear that the “ Great Orion ” will be turned into a hospital ship on my account.’

‘ If you have made up your mind to that you’re all right,’ replied the captain. ‘ More than half the cure lies in believing yourself to be on the right track for being cured. I don’t think there’s much the matter with you myself; and one thing is certain—you don’t mean to be sea-sick.’

‘I can promise you that,’ I answered. ‘I’m not altogether a landsman; I know the port side from the starboard, and I fancy, if I were put to it, I might manage to work out a course on a large scale chart with a parallel rule and compasses.’

‘ I’m glad to hear that,’ said the captain. ‘ We’ll get on well together, I know, even if we have our arguments every day about the position of the ship.’

‘ 1 have brought a pocket sextant with me to keep you straight, and to make sure that you are not trifling with me in the sailing of the ship,’ I said, with a laugh.

‘ I’ll confiscate that instrument the first time it heaves in sight,’ said the captain. ‘ The fact is that I have a queer prejudice against pocket sextants, especially when they are used by college gentlemen. I had a passenger once on a voyage to the Mauritius—a college gentleman that wanted to observe a transit of Venus from the island. Well, he was sick in his berth for the first fortnight we were at sea, though we had lovely weather; but one day, to the surprise of every one, he appeared on deck, with the smallest pocket sextant I ever saw in his hand. It was near about eight bells, and I was thinking of taking the sun myself. I got my sextant from my cabin, and began to work out the sight I had of the sun. But before I had done more than set down a figure or two, the professor was standing at the door of my cabin. “ What do you make it? ” he inquired. “ Why, I have hardly begun to work it out yet, sir,” I replied. “ I beg your pardon,” said he. “ Don’t let me hurry you. I have made the calculation myself; but don’t let me hurry you.” I never knew anything so irritating as to see that man stand in the cabin door with his pup of a sextant—that’s really all you can call one of those instruments—in one hand, and a sheet of paper with his calculation on it in the other.’

‘ But you did your work in the cabin in spite of him?’

‘ Certainly; but I took as long about it as a schoolboy would with the eye of the master upon him. “ Ah, have you finished? I hope you didn’t let me hurry you? ” he said—I don’t think he meant to be sarcastic. Well, Mr. Mostyn, we compared our observations. They differed slightly, scarcely worth mentioning; but he thought the difference well worth mentioning—it wasn’t honourable mention so far as I was concerned. My sextant must be astray, he affirmed. Of course I took the part of the sextant, and we had a fine battle. The same thing was repeated the next day, and so on for a month.’

‘And you never found out which was in the wrong?’

‘ The worst part of the whole story is that he proved me to be in the wrong,’ said the captain. ‘ It turned out that there was an error in the dividing of my instrument.’

‘ The moral of your story is that I am not to take my “ sights ” within your sight,’ I cried. ‘ Very well, sir; I’ll go as far for’ard as possible, and if the ship runs on a reef you won’t be able to blame me.’

At this moment Mr. Borrows came up, evidently in a state of excitement.

‘ One of the Liverpool tugs is in our wake, sir,’ said the mate, ‘ and I think she is signalling to us.’ ‘ What can she mean by doing that? ’ asked the captain, crossing the deck and directing his binocular pilot-glass towards a small steamer that was about a mile astern, but fast gaining upon us.

CHAPTER V

IN THE QUEEN’S NAME.

‘ WHAT does that sewing-machine want with us, Mr. Borrows?’ asked the captain. ‘Do you really fancy that she is after us? ’ he added.

‘ She is, surely, sir,’ replied Mr. Borrows. ‘ She is signalling for us to heave-to.’

‘ So she is,’ said the captain, after another observation of the little steamer through his pilot-glass. ‘ What can be the meaning of this? Bring the ship up to the wind and heave-to, Mr. Borrows, if you please. The tug may come from the owners with additional orders, and we needn’t give her an extra long race to overhaul us.’

Mr. Borrows gave a few orders, in a tone that indicated his belief that unless they were carried out without a moment’s delay the consequences would be frightful.

In a short time the ship was lying without any way on her, only rising and falling as the sea swept under her keel with a curious gurgle and a splash.

I stood on the poop deck watching the progress of the little steamer, the sound of whose paddles we could now hear distinctly. It had evidently a high pressure of steam on, and the stoker had not spared the coal in the furnaces. A black cloud like a roll of velvet went out from the funnel and streamed aft, without losing its density until it reached almost the entrance to the estuary of the Mersey. I don’t suppose the tug had at any time of its existence shown such a desire to make a noise as it was now doing. The water was churned into a seething mass in its wake. The Atlantic liner of, it might be, five thousand tons had passed on its way without making nearly so much fuss.

In a very short time the tug was within hailing distance.

‘Tug ahoy!’ shouted Captain Harwood from the rail.

The paddles of the little steamer ceased to beat the water, so that we could hear the voice that responded to the captain’s hail.

‘ “ Great Orion ” ahoy! We have to come alongside and board you.’

‘ What’s your business? Do you come from the owners? ’

‘ From the police,’ was the reply from a man in the uniform of a superintendent of police, who stood beside the paddle-box. He seemed to have some difficulty in maintaining his dignity in this position, for the little craft was very uneasy, though there really was not much sea on.

‘ What have the police to do with us? ’ cried Captain Harwood as soon as the tug had drifted almost alongside the ship.

‘We have a warrant for the arrest of one of your crew,’ replied the superintendent of police, ‘ and we must board you.’

‘ Board away, then,’ shouted the captain; ‘ but don’t be long about it. I want to make the most of the tide.’

Here was a bit of excitement at the outset of my voyage. We were on the same ship with a criminal, or at any rate with a man whose company was desired by the police. I looked round at those of the crew who were standing abaft the mizzen mast; I wondered which of them would be selected by the police official to be relieved from the risks of a long sea voyage, and the discomfort of a fo’c’s’le berth. The five men in my immediate neighbourhood could scarcely be called handsome. They were weather-beaten fellows with big limbs and great hands, which, I could see as they hauled together at the braces, were seamed with a variety of old scars. One of the men had lost the upper joint of the fourth finger, and two joints of the third, on one hand; but this circumstance did not prevent his appearing to be a bright and good-humoured fellow.

They did not seem to mind the approach of the tug with the police aboard. One of the men winked at another, and made some rough jest about the other’s time being now come. The rest laughed, and there was an interchange of tobacco among the party.

Before my observations had come to an end, the police superintendent and two of his men had jumped on the deck of the ‘ Great Orion,’ a plank having been run out from the paddle-box of the tug to the bulwarks of our vessel amidships.

‘ Now, sir,’ said Captain Harwood to the police official, as soon as the latter had come up the deck, ‘just to save time, let me have a look at your authority to board my ship. Everything must be done regular.’

The superintendent produced a capacious pocket-book, out of which he extracted a document printed on blue paper.

‘ There you are, Captain Harwood,’ he said, handing over the document. ‘This is a warrant, in the Queen’s name, for the arrest of Stephen Sliddell, who, from information received, I believe to be aboard this ship.’

‘ This is all square,’ said the captain, returning the warrant. ‘What is the charge against the man? ’

‘ Manslaughter so far; murder it may be when the affair comes to be looked into more particularly.’

‘ You can identify the man? ’

‘ We have a good description to go on, nothing more. Never fear, captain; you just muster the ship’s company aft, and we’ll pick out our man without much trouble. Only you’ll see that the whole company comes on deck, and that there’s no skulking.’

‘ Every man in the articles shall come aft,’ said the captain. ‘ Boatswain, pipe all hands aft.’

‘ Ay, ay, sir.’

In about five minutes the eighteen men of the ship’s company, with the cook and the steward, had come aft. They had not hurried in the least, it was evident. They lounged up in couples, endeavouring to look as indifferent as possible to the ordeal to which they were being subjected. It struck me, as I am sure it would have any ordinary observer, that beneath this affectation of indifference there was a consciousness of guilt; but, as every man in the ship’s company assumed this appearance, the police-officer would have no easy task in deciding from observation alone which of the crew should be arrested. If all seemed equally guilty, it might with equal truth be said that all seemed equally innocent ‘Now, then,’ said the captain, opening his logbook, which the steward had brought from the cabin, ‘Now, then, answer to your names, my men.’

He called out the names of the entire ship’s company, and, in various tones and dialects of English, Irish and Scotch, the men responded. The name Stephen Sliddell was, however, not on the ship’s books. This circumstance did not seem to puzzle our visitors. They appeared to think it a matter of course that the man should have shipped under an assumed name.

All the time that the captain was calling the roll the superintendent and his men were consulting together in whispers, scrutinising the company attentively.

‘ Well, superintendent,’ said the captain, ‘ I hope you are convinced that a mistake has been made —there is no Stephen Sliddell aboard this craft.’

‘We know better, sir,’replied the officer, going up to one of the crew—a young fellow strongly built, with dark hair, but with a very clean-shaven face. He was standing as far back as possible, close to the mizzen mast; but when the police officer went beside him he stepped forward, and then I noticed that he had a particularly black eye, which he was trying to conceal beneath the peak of his fur cap.

‘ What part of Ireland do you come from, my man? ’ asked the superintendent of this man.

‘ Sure it’s not from Oirland oi come at all at all,’ replied the man. ' It’s from Bristhol oi hail, and me name is Smith—John Smith. Did ye ever hear tell of an Oirisman be the name o’ John Smith? Ye should be ashamed o’ yersilf.’

‘ I think your name is Stephen Sliddell,’ said the officer. ‘ Can you give an account of yourself? ’

‘ Faith, oi can give both an account of missilf and of ye too, misther, if ye give me foive minutes wi’ ye, an’ nobody to spoil sport.’

‘ Hold your tongue, my man,’ said the captain.

‘ Can you satisfy the police-officer by any means that your name is really Smith and that you are not Stephen Sliddell? ’

‘ How do oi know what’ll satisfy him, sur? ’ said the man. ‘ All that oi know is that oi’m not Steve Shliddell. Steve had a foine beard. Now, how cud oi be him, when ye see oi’m as smooth as the top o’ that binnacle? ’

I could not help laughing at the simplicity of the man’s argument in support of his assertion.

‘ It’s easy getting a shave,’ remarked the superintendent. Then turning to the captain, he asked when the man had come aboard.

‘ Only this morning,’ replied the captain; ‘ but it’s frequently the case that I don’t get my crew together until I am ready to haul out of dock. Does this man answer to the description of the man you want? ’

' He answers close enough for us to arrest him,’ said the officer. ‘ You have heard how unsatisfactory his explanations are.’

‘ Look here, my man,’ said the captain to the suspected sailor, ‘ you will save trouble if you confess that your name is not John Smith.’

‘ Af coorse it’s not moi name,’ said the man; ‘ but it’s as good a wearing name as any other, an’ it’ll do me well enough. Why should I save thim throuble, capt’n? Let thim foind the raal Steve Shliddell if they can.’

‘ We’ve found you at any rate, and we’ll trouble you to come with us,’ said the superintendent.

‘Faith, ye’ll throuble yersilves more nor me,’ cried the man; and before the police-officer could lay his hand upon his shoulder the sailor had sprung into the shrouds and was running up the ratlines. He had reached the crosstrees before anyone on the deck seemed aware of what he was doing. He then went hand over hand along the mizzentop stay to the mainmast. He seated himself astride on the maintop, and, taking a pipe from his pocket, began quietly filling it.

I could not help bursting out laughing as the man, not having enough tobacco already cut, took a clasp-knife from his pocket and began cutting up some common ‘ twist,’ rubbing the scraps in the palm of one hand with the ball of the thumb of the other hand.

The police superintendent had taken a revolver from his pocket. He cocked the weapon ostentatiously and pointed it aloft, shouting, just as the man had applied the match to his pipe :

‘ If you don’t come on deck inside a minute I’ll fire.’

‘ Foire away, me lad,’ was the answer from the maintop.

‘ Come,’ said the captain, ‘ we’ll have no manslaughter aboard a craft that I command. Put up your shootin’-iron until it’s needed in earnest.’

‘ Mind your own business, sir,’ cried the officer, who was now thoroughly out of temper. ‘ If you interfere with me in the exercise of my duty you will have to answer for it.’

‘ Don’t you try to teach me what my power is aboard my own ship,’ said the captain. If you empty a single barrel of that revolver aboard this craft I’ll have you placed in irons. I’m a friend to the law, but the law doesn’t allow you or any one else to shoot a man that’s in the same room with you in a house or aboard the same ship with you,’

‘ Three cheers for the capt’n,’ cried a voice from the crew. The response was hearty enough, and it was joined in most heartily by the man on the maintop.

‘ Avast there,’ said the captain. ‘ There’s nothing to make a noise about. The superintendent has a right by the warrant he holds to arrest the man that he believes is this Stephen Sliddell, and I’ve no intention of preventing the arrest from being made. But I will prevent a revolver from being fired. Now do what you choose, officer.’

‘ If I fail to arrest that man I’ll get an Admiralty writ to arrest the vessel at the first British port she reaches,’ said the superintendent.

The captain only laughed.

‘ There’ll be a bill against you for demurrage, my friend,.if you keep us here much longer,’ said he.

The officer consulted with his two men for a few minutes; then one of these men went to the port shrouds and another to the starboard, and both began the ascent of the mainmast simultaneously. It was evidently their intention to arrest the man aloft, having cut off his retreat to the deck. The superintendent was clearly under the impression that so far as he himself was concerned it would not be wise to follow his men aloft.

It is needless to say that the crew watched the operations of the police with great interest, and not altogether without criticism.

‘ They’ll never get higher in the force than they are just now, Bill,’ said the steward to the cook.

‘ It’s a bit o’ house-paintin’ they fancy they’re to do for their day’s wages,’ remarked another of the crew.

‘ Paving is more in their line,’ cried another.

‘They’ll not masthead Johnny Smith, you bet,’ laughed a Nova Scotian.

‘ Would you like a handrail goin’ up them stairs? ’ cried the cook.

‘ Avast there, my men,’ said the captain. ' I’ll not have the police interfered with: they are doing their duty, and nothing beyond it.’

By this time the two constables had reached the crosstrees. From the maintop the man above their heads kept up a running fire of sarcastic encouragement delivered in the broadest Irish brogue. He told them to remember that they had wives and families and that they should not run any risks. He inquired what their pay might be, and if the sort of work they were doing was paid extra, and finally asked them what was their private opinion on the subject of cold mutton handed up from the area. Then, as he jerked himself to his feet and knocked the ashes out of his pipe against the topmast, he politely begged the policemen to give his best respects to their wives and families, expressing his regret that he would not be able to visit them for some time.

CHAPTER VI

A BAD BEGINNING.

THE policemen were becoming still more cautious the higher they went aloft. They, however, succeeded in getting only about half way up the topgallant mast, when the man above them quietly caught the stay and went hand over hand to the foremast head. On the fore he again seated himself and took out his pipe.

‘ Faith, this ixorcoise is makin’ me quare an’ dhry,’ he remarked. ‘Ye don’t happen to have a flashk about ye, me bould purshoors, have ye? ’

This was too much for the superintendent on the deck. He got into the foreshrouds, and went aloft much faster than either of his men had done. But the higher he went the man he sought still kept above him, till when the topgallant mast was almost reached the fellow grasped the topgallant stay and slid down to the jibboom end. He sat astride the cap, rising and dipping as the bows rose and fell. The crew gave his achievement a cheer, but Mr. Borrows shouted to them to avast their noise.

The police-officer and his two men had returned to the deck by this time. Each of them seemed considerably relieved on finding himself once more on the solid planks. They were very much more at home here than aloft. The superintendent was almost brave—but he did not attempt to follow the Irishman out to the end of the jibboom.

‘ If he escapes, I’ll hold you responsible,’ cried the officer to Captain Harwood.

‘ How can you do that, when you’ve never asked me to assist you? ’ said the captain quietly.

‘I ask you now,’ shouted the superintendent.

‘ Why could you not do so before, and save all this tomfoolery? ’ said the captain. Then walking up to the bows, he made a motion to the man on the jibboom. ‘ Come on deck at once,’ he said. ' Do you think we can spend the remainder of the day watching your antics? Come on deck at once.’ ‘ Och, capt’n darlin’, ye don’t mane it? ’ cried the man. ‘ Oi give ye me wurrud, capt’n, it’s not me that’s Steve Shliddell; it’s another man entoirely. Me brother is in Austhralia, an’ oi want to say him an’ give him a missage from me father. Oi don’t want to be tuk up by mishtake for Steve Shliddell—let me be tuk up for missilf if oi be to be tuk up at all.’

‘ Come on deck, sir, before I noose you.’

‘ Och, capt’n, yer a sayman and ye know how to do for me, not loike thim gossoons that oi cud play missilf wid till eight bells.’

The captain picked up a few fathoms of a stout line and prepared to make a noose.

‘ Don’t throuble yersilf, capt’n: oi’ll come down, cried the man, getting upon his knees and preparing to creep along to the jibboom. At that instant one of the policemen took from his pocket a pair of handcuffs. The jingle they made seemed a familiar sound to the man on the jibboom. I saw him give a start, and his lips moved as he paused. He was evidently muttering something not altogether favourable to the police force. The next instant he seemed to overbalance himself, and there was a shout before his splash sounded in the water under the bows.

We all ran forward and leant over the bulwarks in expectation of the man’s reappearing. A couple of boat-hooks were brought to the bows, and a lifebuoy was cut adrift ready to cast. A couple of seamen got into the chains, with lines in their hands. The police-superintendent could only shout, ‘ Don’t let him escape; catch him with the boat-hooks, throw a rope round him, drop the lifebuoy over his head.’

‘Wait till his head comes up, won’t ye?’ shouted one of the crew.

I must confess that I was quite as anxious as anyone aboard for the Irishman’s head to appear. I stood by the side of the two mates at the bulwarks peering into the water at the bows. We peered and waited there for certainly five minutes No head rose above the surface.

‘ Clear away a boat,’ shouted the captain.

‘Yes, clear away a boat—he mustn’t escape us,’ almost shrieked the police-officer.

In a surprisingly short space of time a boat was lowered from the davits and manned, the police-superintendent getting into the stern.

Captain Harwood looked very grave.

‘Whether the man is guilty or innocent, he mustn’t be drowned,’ he muttered. ‘ Why did I allow that tomfoolery to go on so long? ’

We watched the boat as it rowed round the ship, the men spearing about with the boat-hooks in every direction.

Could the man swim? ’ Mr. Borrows inquired. The crew on deck declared that they had never seen the man before that day, but they did not believe that he could swim.

‘ The foolish fellow wouldn’t think of making the attempt to reach shore,’ said the captain.

‘ We could not fail to see his head if he were to do so, sir,’ said the second mate. ‘ My belief is that he went under the ship immediately, and we’ll never see him again.’

The captain made no further remark. He did not even look over the ship’s side. We heard shouts every now and again from the boat, making us believe that the search was successful; but on hurrying to the ship’s side we found that the shouts were false alarms on the part of the police-officer.

In about twenty minutes, after the boat had gone round the ship half-a-dozen times, the police-officer scrambled once more on deck.

‘We have done all that we could, captain,’ said he very humbly; ‘ we did all we could to arrest him. If he had come quietly at first, all would have been well. He has only himself to blame for what happened.’

The captain shook his head gravely. ‘If you had not pulled out your revolver so quickly,’ he replied, ‘ but had asked me to bear a hand to help you to arrest him, that poor fellow, whether or not his name was Sliddell, would probably be alive now.’

‘It was an accident,sir,’ said the superintendent, ‘and I’ll take care that it’s reported truly. He must have been carried out to sea with the current. The body will be found at the Isle of Man or on the Irish coast.’

‘ Stand by to cast off the tug,’ shouted the captain, before the officer had finished speaking.

In a few minutes the afteryards of the ‘ Great Orion ’ were hauled round and the tug was cast off; but I could see that it did not steam at once back to the river—it remained cruising slowly around where we had lain to; and through the binocular glass I could make out the figures of the superintendent of police and his two men leaning over the bows as if watching for the body of the man to appear.

‘This is an agreeable start on your pleasure trip, Mr. Mostyn,’ remarked the captain, coming beside me when the tug was lost in the haze at the entrance to the river, and we were beginning to feel the fresh breeze blowing up the Channel.

‘ It is a veiy melancholy affair,’ said I. ‘ But I really don’t think that anyone aboard this ship is to blame for it.’

' If anyone is to blame, I am,’ said the captain.

‘ I feel that I might have been active rather than passive in the matter. I might have taken steps to arrest the poor fellow before he went so far. I respect the authority of the law, and I should not have been passive just now.’

‘ I don’t think that anything you could have done would have caused matters to turn out differently,’ said I. ‘ The man would not have acknowledged your authority when he set the warrant of the police at defiance.’

‘ A shipmaster, Mr. Mostyn,’ said the captain, after a pause, ‘ has a very difficult part to play in matters of this sort. He must act as the protector of his crew and take their part against all comers. If a warrant is issued for the arrest of one of my men I would not interfere with the action of the authorities; but if I were to put myself about to help the police against any man aboard, the effect upon the remainder of the crew might be very serious, I don’t know but that I’ll actually be blamed in the fo’c’s’le for the loss of that man just now. I must confess my own conscience does not acquit me from all blame in the matter. The police, as a rule, act discreetly in the face of the most trying circumstances, and they should be assisted by every man who has a respect for the law. I’m afraid I helped to make the superintendent and his men look ridiculous just now. They may not have shown very much discretion in this affair, but that is no excuse for me.’

‘ I don’t think you should blame yourself,’ I replied. ‘After all, the accident was due to the fellow’s own tricks. I laughed at his antics, but the result is no laughing matter; I don’t believe that he was the man mentioned in the warrant. Sliddell is not an Irish name.’

‘ We shall probably never know if he was the right man/ said the captain. ‘ He shipped under the name John Smith, and he had most likely been recently in a row—did you notice his eye? All the same, he may not have been the man named in the warrant.’

Just then the tea-bell was rung by the steward, and I went down to the cabin with the second officer. The captain would not leave the deck, but desired a cup of tea to be taken up to him and another to Mr. Borrows.

I found that both the steward and the second officer were disposed to believe that the superintendent of police had made a mistake in assuming that the Irishman was Stephen Sliddell.

‘ The poor chap had, likely enough, his own reasons for not wishing to be moored alongside a bobby,’ said the steward; ‘ but that’s not saying that he should have been put on his trial for manslaughter in place of Stephen Sliddell.’

‘ It’s the policeman who took out the irons that should be tried for manslaughter/ said the second officer, between enormous bites of freshly-baked bread and corned beef.

I could not quite agree with this theory, but I said nothing; I only shook my head as significantly as I could at a moment’s notice.

CHAPTER VII

THE STEWARD’S THEORIES.

IT was very gratifying to me to find, on awaking next morning, that I had no tendency whatever to sea-sickness. I had gone to my cabin long before midnight, and as only a breeze was blowing, the ship was very steady, so I fell asleep almost immediately. When I next opened my eyes, I saw from my little timepiece—my sister's parting gift—that it was almost eight o’clock. From the swinging of the lamp I also became aware of the fact that the ship was not nearly so steady as she had been during the night. The breeze had evidently increased to half a gale, for I could hear the whistle of the wind through the rigging and the rush of water off the sides, as the ship plunged heavily. ’

Robson, the steward, knocked at my cabin door while I was in the act of tumbling out of my bunk, and told me that my bath was ready. The vessel did not possess a regular bath-room; but a spare cabin, that had been used by the steward as a store-room, was cleared of its contents, and fitted with a big bath, of such depth that the rolling of the ship would not send the water flying over the edge.

Going on deck before breakfast, I found that the captain, having been up all night, was now asleep in his cabin, Mr. Borrows being left in charge of the ship. All plain sail was set, but instead of being close-hauled as she had been on the previous evening, the ship might be said to be running before the wind. I strolled over to the binnacle, and saw by the compass that our course was changed. We were now sailing about NNW. This was not a course likely to carry us to the Lizard.

‘ Are we bound for the White Sea, Mr. Borrows?’ I inquired of that officer when I found myself in his neighbourhood.

‘ For the White Sea? No, sir; to the Cape first,’ replied Mr. Borrows, who, I perceived, was in the habit of taking everything that was said to him in its literal sense.

‘ To the North Cape, you mean,’ said I with a laugh.

‘ No, sir; the Cape of Good Hope,’ he answered gravely.

‘ But surely that part of the world does not lie to the nor’-nor’-west? ’

‘ No, certainly not. But the fact is, the wind has been blowing up Channel for the past week, and the captain doesn’t believe it will change for some time yet, so he put the vessel on a northerly course. It won’t make much difference if we leave the Channel by the north instead of the south. It would take us, maybe, a week passing the Lizard with this wind, and the Channel’s not a nice place to beat about in.’

‘ So that we shall shortly be off the north-east coast of Ireland? ’

‘ We hope so, sir; if the wind doesn’t die away we should be able to take the bearings of Ailsa Craig early to-morrow.’

‘ It doesn’t show any sign of dying away just yet,’ I remarked as I answered the steward’s summons to breakfast.

‘ When are my lonely meals to cease, Robson?’ I inquired from the steward as I sat down alone to the table.

‘All in good time, sir,’ he replied, laughing.

‘ When we get well clear of all lee shores, and the Trades are blowing steadily over our quarter, you’ll find that the cook won't be insulted as he is just now. There’s not much else to think about aboard a well-found craft like this except what we’re going to get for dinner.’

‘ Not forgetting breakfast and supper, I suppose? ’

‘ By no means forgetting any accident in the same line, sir. Now, you are sent aboard this craft for the good of your health, sir, aren’t you? Well, when you go back to your home, so stout and hearty that when you tell your folk who you are they send away for a policeman to have you taken up as an impostor, they’ll all say that the fine sea air has cured you. They’ll all be wrong. It’s not the fine sea air that cures a man: it’s the fine sea feeding. The sea air is given credit for doing a lot that it never does, sir.’

‘ But perhaps the sea feeding would not be so hearty if it were not for the sea air that gives one an appetite,’ I suggested.

‘ Ah, that’s going too deep for me, sir,’ he replied. ‘ Talking that way is next to talking about what the food is composed of—how many parts starch, how many sugar, how many water, and how many iron. They say, these knowing ones, that we eat starch and iron in every sea biscuit—they can’t force that down my throat.’

‘ I’d object to have a sea biscuit forced down my throat under any circumstances,’ I remarked. ‘ If it were a sea biscuit made of starch, I’m inclined to believe that it would stick in my throat; and I dare say I’d relish quite as little one made of iron; though I can quite understand how the knowing ones that you talk about say that iron goes largely to the making of sea biscuits—some specimens that I have seen were about as soft as iron.’

‘ Yes, I’ve knowed them severely hard, sir,’ said the steward reflectively. ‘ I’ve knowed some that would have turned the edge of any axe, and others that would have done at a pinch for grindstones. I pitied even the weevils that were trying to pick up an honest living in the middle of them biscuits. The poor things had a bad time of it, I’m sure. I don’t as a rule sympathise with either weevils or maggots, sir. Not but what I own that they are industrious—I wish they weren’t quite so industrious.’

‘Well,’ said I, amused at the ready way in which this good fellow strayed from one subject to another, ‘well, Robson, I don’t suppose there are any biscuits like those you mention under your charge in this ship; but even if you had some, I’d trust to the cook to make them eatable, he has done so well as regards this breakfast. If you continue feeding me like this, I think I shall return in the condition of the man you mentioned as being looked on as an impostor after making a sea voyage.’

‘ I hope you’ll have to call me as a witness to prove that you really are yourself, sir,’ said the steward. ‘ You may have heard tell of a man named Tichborne? ’ he continued.

‘ I heard of a man who called himself Tichborne; but so far as I can learn, he did not succeed in getting many other people to call him by that name.’

‘He didn’t succeed,sir,because he didn’t go the right way about the business. He said, “ I left home as thin as a whipping-post, but I grew stout, double stout, in the Australian bush.” Of course no one believed him. But if he had said, “ I have been passing the last twenty years of my life aboard a well-found ship,” the judge and jury, if they knew anything of their business whatsoever, would have said, “ It’s all right, my man; the title and estates are yours.” That’s my theory of the case.’

I laughed, and as I rose from the table I was forced to confess that I had never eaten a heartier breakfast, and that I had never felt in better health. Whatever doubts I may have had before as to the claim of Sir Courtenay Marsh to the .baronetcy which he had received from the Queen now vanished. In recommending a long sea voyage for my health he had proved himself worthy of a dukedom.

CHAPTER VlIl

I SEE A GHOST.

I KNOW nothing more exhilarating than a fine spring day spent aboard a ship in the Channel, when the wind is blowing from the right quarter and there is not too much of it.

Going on deck after breakfast, I felt a warm glow through my body as the wind forced its way down to my lungs. The white spray that was whirled aloft as our bows broke though the small waves with a flapping sound, and plunged into the troughs of the heavier seas with a crash, came upon my face more than once. I did not try to avoid its shower. The scent of the brine brought back to me all dear old memories of the days when Jack, Bertha, and occasionally Another, were accustomed to sail with me on the lovely long summer evenings in the yacht. Were those evenings past for ever? I wondered. Would they never be repeated? I asked myself. I could not help feeling that all our past happiness would one day return to us.

It seemed months since I had been at home. My new life seemed to have nothing new in it for me. I felt that if I had suddenly found myself at home I should be anything but ‘ at home ’ in another sense; and yet I had not been twenty-four hours aboard the ‘ Great Orion.’ People certainly do become quickly accustomed to even the strangest surroundings. With the experience I have had, I can quite understand how a man sentenced to penal servitude might so accustom himself to his cell that the order for his release should be far from welcome.

There was a slight chill in the air that forced me, after I had been on deck for a short time, to go to my cabin and put on the only heavy overcoat I had brought with me. When I buttoned up this garment and had a walk of a few miles in twenty-yard laps, I was in a condition to sit in my deck chair on the poop and enjoy the sight of the sparkling green water through which the ‘Great Orion ’ was making a white track.

Many ships were in sight on all sides, and we passed quite close to more than one. A dim low-lying cloud would now and again be seen on the horizon, and then the masts of a steamer would gradually appear, followed by the stumpy funnels, and lastly the long hull, generally very deep in the water. It did not give some of those steamers much trouble to overhaul the ‘ Great Orion,’ though she was sailing at the rate of seven knots. They frequently passed so close to our quarter that I could have recognised a friend among the passengers who watched us from the rail or the bridge.

About noon there sailed across our bows from the westward an enormous ironclad man-of-war of the turret pattern. It had no sail set, and the propellers were so deep in the water that they neither ‘ churned ’ the surface nor made the least sound. Only from the way this tremendous mass of iron threw up a wave on either side of its cutwater could we guess at what speed it must have been moving in that grimly silent fashion. Not more than a few feet of bulwarks fore and aft might be regarded as freeboard, and not half-a-dozen men are to be seen at any part of this mighty monster; they were all concealed below the turtle-back deck or within the turrets. I had never before seen an ironclad of this type at sea; and I must confess that though I was impressed by the appearance of the thing, I was in no way disposed to regret that I was aboard a good ordinary sailing-ship of wood instead of being within the maw of that monster of iron plates and bolts.

Captain Harwood showed an old sailor's enjoyment as I sneered at the turret-ship, calling it a cast-iron saucepan, and referring to it in the most uncomplimentary terms I had at my command. When at last he put in a good word for the despised craft, he did so in a way that caused me to feel that my severest ‘slating' was a good deal less hard upon the ironclad than his commendation.

At noon the Isle of Man was off our quarter, and we could even distinguish the form of the headlands at the south-west point of the island. Toward the evening the coast of Ireland was seen, but without giving any indication of the emerald pastures lying within the circle of that dark grey coast. There is no suggestion of the ‘ Emerald Isle’ in the long bare coast of County Down, especially when viewed from the Channel.

I remained on deck all the evening in a state of delightful idleness. I found that my interest was aroused by everything I saw aboard the ship, and in the scene around me. The lighting of the lamps I watched as if the operation were a marvellous one; and then, as the darkness came on, I sat close to the cabin skylight, through which the light of the swinging lamp was pleasantly shining. All the cabin was aglow, and very snug it appeared when viewed from above.

Then through the darkness there shone around us on every hand the sidelights and the masthead lights of the vessels in the Channel. They looked like glowworms scattered about a broad field. Later in the evening one of the lights on the Irish coast was seen, and by the aid of the captain’s fine pilot-glass I could even make out where a village of the coast was lying snug beneath the hills.

The breeze had died away long before the light on Mew Island came up from the horizon; but the captain never left the deck for more than a few minutes at any time. The vessel was, he said, in the track of the steamers crossing the Channel from Belfast to Fleetwood, Barrow-in-Furness, and Liverpool, as well as in that of the Holyhead steamer from Greenore, and of many others leaving Irish ports for England and Wales; under these circumstances, he thought it best not to go below except to have an irregular dinner, and to drink a cup of tea at a single draught.

‘ It’s not wind nor a lee-shore that shipmasters most dread, Mr. Mostyn,’ remarked the captain. ‘They are most afraid of ships. Ninety-nine out of every hundred collisions that we hear of occur without anyone being able to tell how they come about. A couple of ships read each other’s lights while they are some miles apart, and not making for one particular point. Now, why they should run one another down it would be hard to say; but I’ve known such a thing happen, I suppose, fifty times. I’m afraid that some day the same thing will happen with a ship I’m aboard of; but I’ll do my best to prevent it while you’re aboard. Yes, I’m a mortal coward of nothing but ships when I’m on the deck of one myself.’

Not having the same sense of responsibility, I could descend both to dinner and tea with a light heart. I found myself at both meals with as large an appetite as I had shown for the excellent breakfast. I had been, by the thoughtfulness of my mother, provided with a case of jams and jellies, and a quantity of preserved things in bottles and tins and jars—just in case the ship’s supplies might not be adequate to my requirements; but I could perceive, from the way the cabin table was furnished at every meal, that there was every likelihood of my carrying back the case of ‘ extras.’

After sitting for a long time in front of the cheerful brass stove in the cabin, listening to the movements of the men on the deck, and now and again to the creaking of a boom or the flapping of a sail—for the wind had died away almost to a breath—I picked up a copy of a Liverpool newspaper which had been thrown on the top of one of the lockers.

I did not expect that there would be much to interest me in the paper, but I did not think it would be dull enough to send me to sleep. I had underestimated its drowsy tendencies; for before I had finished reading an article endeavouring to account for the depression of trade throughout the country by the divergence, or supposed divergence, of the Gulf Stream, I have the strongest reasons for believing that I fell asleep.

When I next opened my eyes I found that the lamp had burnt very low. I turned up the wick and looked at the clock. It wanted only a few minutes of being midnight.

I should have been in bed more than an hour ago if I meant to adhere to the rule of life I had laid down for myself. Now, having slept for nearly three hours, I shrunk from turning into my berth, feeling certain that I should lie awake tossing and tumbling for hours; so I put my arms through the sleeves of my great-coat, and, buttoning it up round my throat, I went on deck.

The night was very dark, though not cloudy, for the stars appeared in many parts of the sky, but they were so faint it would have been impossible to tell any constellation. The surface of the water was broken up into countless little ripples, through which the ship moved slowly, with a whispering sound that seemed to come from beneath the keel.

On the poop deck astern, Mr. Borrows was walking nervously, as was his habit, from rail to rail, throwing a glance every now and again to the sails, just to give the man who was steering a hint that it would not do for him to fall asleep, however strong his temptation might be I exchanged only a few words with the chief officer before going down from the poop to have a longer stroll on the deck beside the hatches. Through the foot of the foresail I could see the figures of the men belonging to the watch on deck walking about, scarcely exchanging a word with one another, but whistling in a half-hearted way snatches of old tunes. I had no intention of going so far forward as to come in contact with the men, but, after a brisk walk along the deck at the main hatch, I seated myself on the wooden fender on the starboard side about amidships, simply to rest.

In a few minutes I rose, and, before resuming my exercise, stood with my arms folded on the top of the bulwarks, looking down to the water which was flashing with a singular phosphorescence, unlike any light I had ever seen before.

While I stood, motionless, in this way, I fancied that I heard a slight sound behind me. Glancing round, I saw the door of the cook’s galley open sufficiently wide to allow a man to squeeze his body through. I saw the body being squeezed through, and then the man walked cautiously across the deck to where the water-cask stood. He lifted up the long tin drinking-vessel that was suspended from the cork inside, and took a hearty draught of the water, drawing his sleeve across his lips as he put back the measure.

Though the man was not more than a dozen yards from where I was standing, yet I could not see his face, the night was so dark; I could only see dimly what he was doing.

His next action, after taking the drink, was to feel in his waistcoat pocket. A pipe was produced, and then followed a closer search in his pockets for (as I believed) tobacco. The result of this search was, apparently, not quite satisfactory. At last, however, the pipe was filled, and the man squatted down at the further side of the cask, so that his head just appeared above the end. He struck a match upon the leg of his trousers and made his hands into a lantern over the bowl of his pipe. In doing so, the light gleamed for an instant upon his face. I gave a start, and an exclamation of surprise escaped from my lips at that instant for I recognised the features of the man: they were the features of the Irishman whose arrest had been attempted on the previous day.

CHAPTER IX

VERY MUCH AT SEA.

IT is unnecessary to say that I was startled by what I had seen. The exclamation which I had given seemed to act like magic upon the face beyond the water-cask. It vanished as quickly as a wax-match is extinguished with a breath. To confess the truth, I was so astonished as to be incapable of moving for some moments. I could only stare at the place where I had seen the man’s face. When I recovered myself I hastened across the deck to the water-cask. No one was there; and yet I had not heard the sound of feet upon the deck, and I had certainly seen no figure above the bulwarks. I could not but admit, however, that it would have been quite possible for anyone to have escaped my notice by creeping along the scuppers. The night was so dark that I might have stumbled across any object beneath the bulwarks.

I hastened to the door of the galley with the intention of entering, but, to my surprise, I found the door locked. Was it not through this door that I had seen the figure of the man come a few minutes before? If so, how was the door of the galley now locked?

I went round the deck-house and tried the door on the port side. It was also fast. I thought for a few moments what I should do in investigating this apparent mystery. The result of my deliberation was that I walked to the fore part of the ship without any show of eagerness, and managed to pass so close to each of the men who were on watch that I could see their features distinctly. None of the men bore the slightest resemblance to the missing Irishman.

I spoke casually to the seaman on the starboard side.

‘ I thought I saw you amidships at the water-cask/ I remarked.

‘ Not me, sir,’ replied the man. ‘ I’ve not been abaft the foremast since it was my watch on deck— none of us here has been aft—leastways, I think not. Joey, have you been aft lately?’ he called to his shipmate, who was whistling the selection of old tunes.

Joey stopped whistling and replied that he had not been further aft than the foremast.

‘ Ah, I must have been mistaken,’ said I, with an affectation of carelessness. I then made a remark about the lightness of the breeze, and strolled aft. Mr. Borrows was still on the poop. I spoke a few words to him before bidding him good-night and going down to my berth.

It was not until I had tumbled into my bunk that I began to think that what I had seen was merely the result of imagination. On deck everything in connection with the occurrence appeared so real that I never asked myself if all might not be a delusion; but now I was beginning to think that perhaps my head was not so sound as it had once been. If I had, only a couple of months ago, been in such a condition that I was unconscious of having worked out a series of examination papers, might I not now have fancied that I saw the face of the man who had fallen from the jibboom, and whose body had not been recovered?

I did not quite succeed in persuading myself that my imagination had played a prank upon me; and I went to sleep without having arrived at any satisfactory conclusion on the matter.

The next morning I thought it prudent to say nothing to anyone aboard about what I had seen, or fancied I had seen. I knew that seamen are as a rule superstitious, and if it came to be known in the fo’c’s’le that the Irishman had been seen on the previous midnight leaving the cook’s galley and taking a drink from the water-cask, the majority of the men would feel convinced that the ship was haunted by the ghost of the unfortunate man, and that she was consequently doomed never to reach port. To be sure, there might be some far-seeing fellows in the fo’c’s’le who would perceive that the inconsistent point in the story of the reappearance of the man was his drinking so copiously of the water. If it had been something stronger than water that the cask contained, the story would run a better chance of being universally accepted.

We were now running northward, with a fine breeze almost directly astern. The Irish coast lay off the port quarter, and Ailsa Craig, that curious sugarloaf rock which is a sort of half-way house (without the show of hospitality) between Ireland and Scotland, was on the opposite side. Here the course of the ship was altered by a point or two to the west, and before long the north-east coast of Ireland could but dimly be seen on the horizon. The fine weather, however, continued, and the fair wind allowed us to keep on all plain sail.

We were now clear of the Channel, and might be said to have entered the Atlantic. For my own part, I failed to notice any difference between the water of the ocean and the water of the Channel. Of course it was something to be able to say ‘ This is the Atlantic—the glorious Atlantic! ’ and to feel that you might sail for four thousand miles to the westward without meeting land; but I never succeeded, though I tried hard, in realising that there was anything particularly grand in the Atlantic.

The sight of sails in the distance had now become rarer. We only caught a glimpse now and again of a vessel bound for some Scotch port; but toward evening there passed quite close to the ‘ Great Orion' a large steamer, which Captain Harwood said was one of the Anchor line on her way to Glasgow. This was really the only incident of the day, and I began to wonder how many more days of the same sort I should have to pass aboard the ship.

Sir Courtenay Marsh had enjoined idleness upon me as an important part of his prescription for my complete recovery. I was not to open a book that had even the most remote connection with mathematics. The well-known x, that had once been my favourite symbol, was henceforth to be a dead letter so far as I was concerned. All the same, I had secretly stowed away some of my favourite books treating of higher mathematics—the subject that interested me most, and that in which I had made the greatest progress. I resisted as long as I could the temptation to open the box where these books had been secreted; but the hour came when I thought I might at least have a look at these old friends of mine. I would not begin to study the contents, I thought, as I set about uncording the box, but I felt that I should like to see their backs once again, if only to remind me of past associations.

I loosed the knot and unfastened the cord, and raised the lid. Surely some transformation had been undergone by my library of mathematics! I suppose most boys know well enough—too well, perhaps—what is the usual style adopted in the binding of such volumes. There is not much gilding on the cover, and rarely even a scrap of crimson cloth brightens up the back. This being so, it can easily be believed that I was surprised to find, in the place where I had stowed my collection of grey and brown battered and dog-eared treatises, a number of green, gold, and crimson volumes, with outline pictures on the back, and designs of anchors and sails and blocks worked into every spare corner of the covers.

I tossed aside these volumes of nautical adventures and travel in distant lands, expecting to find beneath them the books I had selected to bring with me. But the second stratum of literature I found to consist of even lighter reading—novels by various authors and dreadful yellow-backed stories with pictorial covers.

What could this mean? I remembered having placed my own books in this very box and also a large number of my own papers, and yet here were novels and books of travels only—nothing else except an envelope, addressed to me, in my sister’s handwriting.

I tore open the envelope and found within the following letter:—

‘ DEAR OLD BOY,—You are extremely clever, we all know, but I think you must have made a mistake in packing this box. How grateful you will be to me for discovering it in time and making it all right for you! The fact is, dear George, that, though the doctor said you were on no account to open a single book on mathematics or any of those horrid things that brought on your illness, you must unconsciously—perhaps in your sleep—have stuffed this box with such books and papers. How funny, wasn’t it? Never mind! I have made it all right for you in this respect. I have taken out the books that you put into the box, by mistake, and have given you instead a number of quite too charming volumes.—No, no, I’ll have no thanks, though I know you’ll be thoroughly grateful to me when you come home all right.

‘Ever your loving sister,

‘ BERTHA.

‘ P.S.—Jack has selected the stories in the ornamental bindings. He says he can recommend with every confidence “The Boy Admiral” and “ The Pirate Chief of the Spanish Main.” ’

I let this epistle fall from my hands. Some moments had passed before I had sufficiently recovered from my surprise to be able to lie back on my cabin sofa and enjoy a good laugh at the clever way I had been tricked by my sister, and Jack also, for I recognised his hand in this transaction.

I picked up one of the volumes—not ‘The Pirate Chief of the Spanish Main,’ however—and I acknowledge that I found it extremely interesting.

CHAPTER X

THIE GHOST REAPPEARS.

WE had now been a week at sea, sailing to the westward, for the wind continued to come from a quarter unfavourable to our course, which should have been to the south. However, as the captain explained, we should, after all, not lose many days, for the usual track of vessels to the Cape brings them close to the coast of South America. If a northerly or westerly wind were to spring up, we would soon be bowling along in the right course and would not need to bear away for the Brazils in a more southerly latitude.

Of course I had no right to complain that the wind did not change just at the right moment to allow of the ship steering south and carrying me into a more balmy region. But I must confess that before the first week had come to a close I was heartily tired of the cold airs of this high northern latitude. Had we been able to sail out of the Channel by the south, we should, with favourable winds, be now clear of the Bay of Biscay, and making for the Madeiras or the Azores. Instead of being in such a position now, we had not altered our latitude, but were suffering from a continuance of the coldest winds I had ever felt.

The steward did not bear with exemplary patience the continued cold of the air that compelled him to light the brass stove every day. He seemed to be decidedly of the belief that we were being ill-treated by the weather, and expressed himself freely on this topic.

I laughed whenever he was unusually vehement, and assured him that I was quite satisfied with the wind, so long as it never got beyond the limits of half a gale in force.

‘ I don’t agree with you there, sir,’ he replied. ‘ I’d rather have a full gale of wind blowing in the right direction than half a gale from the wrong quarter. It’s not to the North Cape you want to take a trip, I believe, sir? ’

‘ Not particularly, Robson,’ said I. ‘ But I don’t expect it will be found necessary to run for the North Cape.’

‘ I don’t know that, sir,’ said the steward, shaking his head. ‘ I’m not prepared to say positively that we won’t catch a glimpse of “ Greenland’s icy mountains" before the end of another fortnight.’

As a matter of fact the weather was very cold; and when one day a high piercing wind came, bringing with it a snowstorm that lasted for some hours, no one aboard the ship seemed to be surprised.

Before the coming of this storm the day had been cloudy, and the captain, finding the barometer falling and the mercury in the thermometer only a few degrees above the freezing-point, gave orders to have sail shortened. The men went aloft for the first time since leaving the Channel and the royals were stowed. This duty had scarcely been done, when the storm came down with a swoop as of a mighty bird of prey upon its victim. Beneath the weight of snow, sleet, and wind the ‘ Great Orion ’ bowed, but only for an instant; then, recovering herself, she swept on with a crash through the grey seas, every timber shivering with the shock. Had the royals been allowed to remain upon the ship, they would probably have been carried away with the first shock of the tempest.

When the storm had passed the sea remained high and the cold was intense and penetrating. But when, in the course of a few hours, the wind shifted round a point or two to the northward, and the ship’s course was changed accordingly, there were many expressions of satisfaction aboard. It seemed to be taken for granted that we should have no more unfavourable winds, but that every breath would come from the north or the nor’-east, bearing us to the warm latitudes which we hoped to have reached long ago.

Toward evening the wind went down considerably. The atmosphere became curiously hazy; everything was seen in a grey light, such as I had often noticed on winter days at home. The men who had gone aloft to shake out the royals could be but dimly seen from the deck. Still, as we were now not so far out of the course we wished to steer, we felt that we had no right to complain of such a trifle as the want of a perfectly clear atmosphere.

The evening came on very dark and cold. After drinking tea and eating the hot cakes that the cook had provided, I could with difficulty force myself to take my usual walk upon deck—the warm cabin made me feel very lazy; but after such a conflict as most of us undergo previous to getting out of bed on cold winter mornings, I put on my heavy coat and went on deck.

I was, I might almost say, stunned at the darkness of the night, intensified as it was to me, through my coming directly up from the bright and cheerful cabin. The masthead light shone faintly through the hazy atmosphere and the binnacle lights appeared only as a distant glow.

Mr. Merrick, the young second officer, was walking rapidly to and fro on the poop. I joined him, and in a short time I found how bracing was the chilly air. Mr. Borrows was taking his watch below, Mr. Merrick told me, and the captain was at tea in the cabin. We spent about half-an-hour walking the deck without anything occurring worthy of notice. But all at once there came the sound of a flapping sail.

‘ Keep the vessel on her course,’ Merrick shouted to the quartermaster at the wheel.

‘ She’s on her course sir ’ said the man: ‘ sou’-sou’-west half-west.’

‘ The wind died away suddenly/ I suggested; ‘ but it’s blowing all right now.’

Mr. Merrick made no reply. He stood silent for a few moments, as if listening attentively to some strange sound.

‘ Did you fancy you heard some queer noise? ’ he asked at length.

‘ I heard nothing/ I replied; ‘ nothing except the splash of the water against the sides of the ship.’

‘That’s just what I heard,’ said he; ‘only it seemed, somehow, that the sound came from a distance: it seemed to be the breaking of the water upon another craft, or, upon my word, it seemed to me like the sound of breakers upon a reef or a sandbank.’

‘I didn’t hear anything that suggested that to my mind/ said I. ‘We cannot, surely, have reached the Banks of Newfoundland already, though we have been sailing in that direction.’

The officer did not answer, but went over to the side of the ship, evidently uneasy in his mind. At that instant there came upon my face a breath of icy air. I had never felt anything like it before; it seemed to cut like a razor.

It was not so dark in the neighbourhood of the cabin skylight but that I could see the second mate give a start as he also felt this singular stratum of icy air. But before either of us had time to make a remark, there came a shout—a yell rather—from the fore part of the ship.

‘ Down with the helm! Down with the helm! ’Bout ship, for all sakes! ’

In a second I had sprung to the wheel. Before the quartermaster, with my assistance, had put the wheel over until the last bolt of the tiller chains was reached, we heard the flapping of the sails. The vessel was brought up to the wind; but before all way could be taken off her, the bows had crushed into something—something that yielded to the weight of the hull and broke away into fragments. Then came the captain’s voice shouting out orders to the men, who had come up from the fo’c’s’le at the first alarm. Above the sound of the flapping sails and the creaking of the tackle I heard the hollow roar of waters plunging about the base of apparently a long line of precipitous cliffs. I had also a sense of standing beneath the shadow of a great hill.

The vessel was drifting slowly astern, her bows rising and falling from wave to wave as the water swirled along her keel. Suddenly there came what seemed like a blaze of red light from beside us. I turned, and there met my eyes a sight that I shall never forget.

The red sidelight of the ship was reflected from the sheer walls of an immense iceberg that towered high above our masts. The effect was magical. We seemed to be beneath the high battlements of a fortress of crystal, through the prismatic walls of which a million lamps were gleaming. Our red sidelight flared on the countless peaks of that mighty hill of ice till each seemed lit with a beacon fire; it gleamed through the immense fissures, and shone into the deep caves hollowed out by the action of the waves. The white masthead light threw a yellow mysterious glare over the higher parts of the ice-island, while here and there a curious green reflection appeared like a patch of emerald upon the face of the crystal cliff.

The whole scene was one of marvellous beauty, and its impressive nature was increased by the suddenness, the awful suddenness, with which it had come before us. As the vessel drifted away from the iceberg, and the lights danced along the line of white waves that broke about its base, I could not help shuddering. I could see that we had been steering straight for the iceberg. It was the sound of the waves plunging around it that the second mate had heard, causing his suspicions to be aroused. It was the icy touch of the wind passing over the berg that I had felt upon my face. Through the haze that increased the darkness of the night we had failed to see even the outline of the iceberg; and had that voice not come out from the darkness of the fore part of the ship, warning us of our danger, we should in all probability have been broken to pieces.

I stood at the rail as we drifted away, with my eyes fixed upon the illuminated island of ice, and I was scarcely conscious of the voice of the captain giving orders for sail to be shortened and for the vessel to be put on a new course. I heard Mr. Borrows report that the vessel had run into a bit of ice that had become detached from the berg, but that no serious damage had been sustained.

‘Thank God!’ said the captain fervently. ‘We have had a narrow escape, Mr. Mostyn—as narrow an escape as I should like for any ship that I have an interest in. Who was it that gave the order to put down the helm? It was not Mr. Merrick.’

‘ I heard the shout from the bows, and I ran to bear a hand at the wheel,’ I replied. ‘ As for the voice that gave the alarm, I may tell you that it was the voice of the Irishman who fell off the jib-boom while we lay-to outside the Mersey.’

‘ Hush! ’ said the captain; ‘ don’t let anyone aboard the ship hear you say so. You have no idea how superstitious sailors are.’

CHAPTER XI

CROSS-EXAMINING A SPECTRE.

KEEP a sharp look-out, Mr. Merrick,’ said the captain, turning to where the second mate was standing. ‘ There may be a lot of drift ice in the neighbourhood. The men can't have their watch below. Let them stand by to put the ship about at a moment’s notice. Send the boatswain aft if you see him anywhere on deck.’

‘ I will, sir.’

In a few minutes the boatswain appeared on the poop.

‘ Boatswain,’ said the captain, ‘ were you on deck just now when the iceberg hove in sight? ’

‘ It was my watch below, sir.’

‘ Who were the watch on deck? ’

‘ Plunkett, Watson, and Heron, sir.’

‘ Which of them sang out to put down the helm?’

' I don’t know, sir. I heard some one sing out, but it didn’t seem to me to be one o’ the watch on deck.’

‘ Why, who else could it have been? There was no one on deck but the second mate and the passenger.’

‘ No one else, sir.’

' What do" you mean, then? Who was it that sang out?’

‘ I believe it was the Irishman who called himself Smith, sir.’

‘ What do you say?—the man that the police came to arrest, and that fell from the jibboom end off Liverpool river? ’

‘ The same, sir.’

‘You fancy his voice came from the bottom of the Channel to warn us? ’

‘ I don’t say where it came from, sir.’

‘ That will do,’ said the captain with a laugh.

‘ Send aft the deck watch.’

In a short time three of the seamen appeared on the poop and took off their caps.

‘ I want to learn the truth of this matter, my men,’ said the captain. ‘ Which of you sang out to put down the helm when the iceberg hove in sight? ’

There was a long and an awkward pause, the men looking at each other and then gazing vacantly to the fore part of the vessel, as if they were particularly anxious to return there.

‘ Come, I can’t wait here till six bells,’ said the captain. ‘ Which of you sang out to put down the helm? ’

‘ Beggin’ your pardon, capt’n,’ said one of the men in anything but a clear voice, ‘ beggin’ your pardon, sir—if we’re not makin’ too free—or if it be that we are makin’ too free—but we’re under the b’lief—leastways we think, says you, but can’t take our davy of it—for why? says you—well, sir, the fack is that he come aboard o’ his own will, says he, bein’ on the ship’s books and signin’ the articles and never gettin’ nothin’ whatsumever in the way o’ a discharge as is formal like, says you, though maybe it’s not shipshape, says he. That’s how it come about.’

The man wiped his forehead after making this long and mysterious speech, and took a step back with a bow that made up in vigour what it lacked in grace.

‘ What an unpicked oakum sort of story is this you have been trying to get through? ’ said the captain. ‘ Can’t you tell me, my man, in one word, who it was that sang out to put down the helm? ’

‘ Well, capt’n,’ said the second of the seamen in exactly the same tone as that adopted by the first, who seemed glad to get out of the difficulty of an explanation, ‘ well, sir, maybe Joey is a bit awry— he claps on too much sail at once, sir, does Joey, and when his skys’ls is carried away, he runs afore the wind, and so maybe gets poop’d; for a plain tale, sir, a plain man is needed—though I’m no sea lawyer nor yet given to sway away on all top ropes, but—’

‘ Avast there, Charlie me lad, an’ let me shpeak for missilf,’ came a voice from behind us. We both started, for there stood the Irishman himself, with his cap in his hand, trying to look ashamed, but light enough came from the cabin skylight to show that he was not succeeding very well in his attempt in this direction.

‘ What is the meaning of this? ’ asked the captain. (As he addressed the Irishman, the three other seamen thought that there was no need for them to remain aft any longer.)

‘ I ax ycr pardon, capt’n dear,’ said the man.

‘ If oi had knowed that there was any harrum in singin’ out whin oi did, it’s missilf that would ha’ shut up altogithcr. But says oi to missilf, as oi kape me oyes will beyant, “It’s yersilf, Mick, me lad, that knows will what’s beyant,” for it’s in the North Ameriky timber thrade oi’ve been for more nor six yarcs, and will practoiscd in lookin’ afther thim oice-boys—so whin oi filt the cowlt air on me face, says oi, “ Micky, me lad, there’s one o’ thim things sailin’ about on its own account, so kape yer oyes will to wind’ard, or there’ll not be livin’ man lift among the ship’s company.” An’ be the same token, thim wurruds had scarce dhried up in the air afore oi sees that boy ahid, an’ sings out at wanst; not but what oi admit that it wud ha’ been more rishpickful to ha’ touched me cap to the mate, tillin’ him that the oice-boy was roight ahid o’ us—axin’ yer pardon, and his into the bargin.’

‘ You saved the ship, my man,’ said the captain, when the man paused. ‘ But what I want to know is how you saved yourself, in the first place, when you fell off the jibboom.’

‘ Fall off the jibboom, capt’n—fall, is it ye be a sayin’ of? Och, capt’n dear, don’t be hard on a lad. Don’t say that it was a fall. Give a sayman a chance. Sure it’s missilf that cud ha’ kep’ thim boys larkin’ about till farder notice if it hadn’t ha’ been that you come an’ gi’ me the orther to quit. Sure everybody knows that it was missilf that dhropt from the jibboom into the wather—an’ it was near bein’ a dhrop too much for me.’

I could see that the captain with difficulty kept his gravity. It would not do, however, for the master of a ship to laugh at such an escapade on the part of one of his crew.

‘ That’s all very fine,’ said he sternly. ' But how did you manage to get on deck, when every man of the ship’s company, to say nothing of the police, was on the look-out for you? ’

‘Why, capt’n, don’t you parsaive that it was jist because you were all lookin’ out for me about the bows, that I conthroived to crape up by the starn? It was missilf that doived under the ship and come up blowin’ loike a grampus not a yard from the rudder. A Jacob’s-laddher was hangin’ over the quarther just as if ye had been expectin’ of me raisin’ there. Oi was wake as wather, but it didn’t take me a powerful long toime to get on deck an’ sthow missilf in the bottom o’ the long boat. Don’t be angery wid a poor boy, sur, but whin oi heard ye all talkin’ about me and lettin’ go the boat—it war will ye didn’t take a fancy to lower the wan oi was lyin’ in—it made the tares come to me oyes wid the laughin’. But ye tuk me part, capt’n—oi cud hare how ye tuk me part, an’ it did me good.’

‘ I took your part because I thought you had made a fool of yourself and had suffered in consequence,’ said the captain; ‘ but it now appears that you were only making a fool of us. How have you managed to hide yourself aboard the ship for the past week? ’

‘ It wasn’t very aisy, sur; on the conthrairy, it war very uncomforthable for me now an’ agin ; but the sorra a wan aboard knew that oi was hare—no, capt’n, there’s no wan to blame but missilf. The young gintleman there'—he pointed to me—‘was nigh cornin’ across me wan night; but sure it was into the galley oi wint, sur, an’ locked the door, jist for fare o’ accidents, sur.’

The captain knew perfectly well that every man among the crew was well aware that the Irishman had saved himself. He said nothing about this, however, but when the man had finished his story he took a step or two astern—to conceal his laughter, I thought. In a few moments he returned.

‘Look here, my man,’ said he, ‘you have behaved like a fool.’

‘ Well, capt’n, if ye say so, maybe oi did; it was makin’ fray oi was to shout out to put down the hilm; but sure oi’ll know what to do next toime,’ said the Irishman slyly.

‘ I don’t mean in respect to that,’ said the captain quickly; ‘ your quickness saved the ship, I believe; but I say it was foolish of you to play such pranks as you did with the police-superintendent. Don’t you know perfectly well that it is my duty to hand you over to the authorities at the first British port we touch? ’

‘Ye won’t do that, capt’n! Oh, no, indade ye won’t! It would be onjust. They thried to take me, but they war bate. Isn’t the game at an end afther that? ’

‘A warrant has been issued for your arrest— that’s enough for me,’ said the captain.

‘ Not for me, capt’n,’ cried the man. ‘ There’s no warrant out agin me. It’s Steve Shliddell that’s a-wantin’, sur; that’s not me.’

‘ How do I know that? ’ asked the captain.

‘ Because Micky O’Hara is moy name, sur. There’s three men aboard this craft can swear to that—that’s the first rayson whoy; and the second is because Steve Shliddell himsilf is aboard this ship.’

‘What! You knew this, and yet you let the police arrest you for him? ’

‘Axin’ yer pardon, capt’n, oi didn’t let thim arrist me. That’s just what oi didn’t do; it wint agin me conscience to go so far, sur. It’s a sinsitive man that oi am, and moighty partikler in such things.’

‘ But knowing that you could satisfy them in a moment that you were not the man they were in search of, you still ran the risk of being shot or drowned to throw them off the track of your messmate? ’

‘ It’s no love oi bear to Steve,’ said the man in a hard voice. ‘ He’s a bad lot, an’ if wanst he dhrops into the hands o’ the polis it’s the long dhrop that’ll be a-follyin’ o’ him. But sure we’re all agin the polis—savin’ the masther mariners and such-like shuperior min. What for should the polis be paid if we’re to hilp thim in doin’ their business? ’

‘ But you allowed such a man as this Stephen Sliddell to remain aboard my ship?’

‘ Don’t be afeard, sur,’ said the man; ‘ it’s missilf that has an oye on him. He’ll play none o’ his thricks aboard this craft. We all get into throuble now and again—it’s mostly noiv wid me—for why should oi have to ship as John Smith if it wasn’t for a bit of a scrimmage that ga’ me the black oye? —but we’re not all Steve Shliddells. But don’t be afeard. Oi’ll keep an oye to him—not me black oye, but the other wan.’

‘ I needn't ask you to point him out to me,’ said the captain.

‘ Oh, no, sur; you won’t gi’ me an orther loike that. By yer lave oi’ll go for'ard now, capt’n. Oi’ve been that long off juty oi don’t fale that oi’m arnin’ me wages.’

‘ You may go for’ard,’ said the captain. ' Be sure I’ll not forget that your seamanlike conduct saved the ship.’

‘ Ah, that’s nothin’ worth talkin’ about at all,’ cried the man as he put on his cap and went quickly to the fore part of the ship.

When he had disappeared, the captain turned to me.

‘You’ll have some idea of the troubles of shipmasters before you leave this vessel, Mr. Mostyn,’ said he. ‘ That man was most probably helped up the stern by a shipmate, after he had come up from his dive under the keel, and he has been living in the fo’c’s’le ever since; though if I were to question the crew about it, they would declare that they had never seen him since the evening he went overboard. What did he mean by saying that you nearly found him out? ’

' I saw him leave the galley one night,’ I replied. ‘ He took a drink from the water-cask, but I did not catch sight of his features until he squatted down to have a smoke; then the light of the match revealed him. I must have given an exclamation of surprise, for when I went to the place where he had been, he was gone. He said just now that he returned to the galley and locked himself in.’

‘ He has been having a good time for the past week,’ laughed the captain. ‘ I think on the whole he has got very much the better of me.’

‘ I agree with you,’ said I. ‘But it strikes me that his promptness just now should be regarded as covering a multitude of sins.’

‘ I feel that also,’ said the captain; ‘ but discipline should be respected, Mr. Mostyn, and, above all, the crew should be taught that their captain is a lover of law and order, and that he does not share their belief that the authorities should be opposed on principle.’

I burst out laughing—most impolitely, I must admit.

‘ My dear Captain Harwood,’ said I, ‘ I beg your pardon sincerely for what may appear a breach of discipline; but don’t fancy that you can make me believe that your sympathies are not on the side of the men rather than on the side of the authorities, as represented by the blue coat and helmet. I know that you are in your heart glad that poor Micky O’Hara, and, perhaps, Steve Sliddell into the bargain, escaped from the police-officer.’

The captain shook his head gravely, and there was a long pause before he said:

' No, Mr. Mostyn; you are wrong. I would not have been sorry if Sliddell had been nabbed,’

CHAPTER XII

THE CAPTAIN’S PRINCIPLES.

THE passing of the iceberg marked a change in the fortunes of our voyage: up to the time of that incident, we had had nothing but contrary winds and cold weather; but before I went to sleep the same night, I heard the men shifting the sails. The next morning was like one in an English spring, only without the usual east wind that causes people who go out to gather daffodils to return with colds that last through the summer, probably, and, possibly, well on into the autumn.

The air over the sea was balmy, and the heat from the sun was genial, though it did not force me to wear a straw hat or the pith helmet which I had carefully stowed away in anticipation of that mysterious region, the Tropics, so much talked about by travellers.

In about ten days I had my first experience of the Tropics, and, curiously enough, the only thoroughly disagreeable day experienced by us since leaving the Channel was the day on which we entered the Tropics. A drizzling rain, with a cold breeze, a chopping sea, and a dreary sky of dead greyA—if these do not include all the elements of disagreeableness, they make a very decent contribution to such an end. Under these circumstances it can easily be believed, I am sure, that I was by no means impressed by my first day in the Tropics. I knew more about the region in the course of the next few months of my life.

But I must not allow myself to be carried away by my recollections. I must return to my prosaic chronicle of the voyage of the ‘ Great Orion ’ to the Cape.

I have already said that from the hour we passed the iceberg, the unfavourable winds that we had previously encountered came to an end. A careful look-out was kept for more ice in our course ; but we scarcely met with as much as would have served to cool a glass of water. The berg that we had so nearly run into was evidently a stray one that had been broken off a large mass and had drifted south, gradually wasting away as it approached the equator. It seemed, however, to be large enough to carry its own climate with it, and to affect the atmosphere for a considerable distance around. We could only hope that any other vessel that might sail in its way would be as fortunate as we had been in noticing it. I could easily understand now that many ships might never be heard of after coming in contact with such a mighty mass of solid ice as that which we had just passed. A steamer running at full speed into such an obstacle could scarcely survive the collision. The ‘ City of Boston ’ probably disappeared with her living freight through coming in contact with an iceberg that overwhelmed the vessel before the boats could be launched. The more I thought over the escape of the ‘ Great Orion ’ the more thankful did I feel to Providence for having so preserved us all. I could not help thinking how remarkable was the series of incidents that led up to our escape. If the Irish sailor had not been forced to keep in hiding so long, he would no doubt have taken his watch below, in turn with the other seamen, and the chances of his being on deck so early in the night would be few. As it was, however, all that had occurred appeared to have happened for our benefit. The hand of Providence was in all.

As for our friend Micky O’Hara, he appeared aft as seldom as possible. He seemed to be very well satisfied with the turn that events had taken; but he did not appear quite confident that the captain would not change his mind and hand him over to the authorities at Cape Town. I fancied that he thought that on the whole it would be wiser not to put himself under the captain’s notice with more prominence than the discharge of his ordinary duties demanded. We could only hope that Micky was carrying out his promise of looking after Stephen Sliddell. I frequently inquired of the captain if he had arrived at any conclusion as to the identity of Stephen Sliddell; but I found that he had not thought it worth his while to consider what might be the result of having such a man aboard the ship.

‘ There’s no good trying your skill at reading character here,’ said the captain. ‘ Sailors get so knocked about in the course of a long life, exposed to all sorts of weather and every form of disease, that some of the best characters among them appear to be the most forbidding scoundrels. The men that have shirked duty and taken care of themselves so that they are hardly the worse for wear after ten or fifteen years at sea, would not likely be hit on by an outsider as the worst characters. I shouldn’t wonder if the man who you made up your mind was Sliddell turned out to be as decent a fellow as ever went aloft’

‘Then I’ll not try my hand at guessing which of the crew is the man that should be tried for manslaughter,’ said I. ‘ All that we can do is to trust that he will some day come in contact with a cleverer officer than the superintendent at Liverpool.’

‘ There’s a considerable difference between them in the matter of cleverness, Mr. Mostyn,’ said the captain. ‘ It’s the same with them as it is in all trades; there are clever and discreet ones among them as well as stupid and overbearing. These latter are, I believe, in the minority, whatever people may say to the contrary. That’s my experience.’

‘I’m greatly afraid,’ said I, ‘that our friend Micky wasn’t quite right when he took it for granted that the police have an enemy in you.’

‘ I’m a respectable shipmaster, Mr. Mostyn,’ he replied, and I’m bound to do all that is in my power to help the authorities. If the authorities now and again show themselves to be pig-headed, there’s all the greater reason why men who aren’t pig-headed should do their best to help them.’

CHAPTER XIII

IN THE SOUTH.

IN due course we reached the Cape, and I was able to change my system of exercise from a three-mile promenade in twenty-yard lengths to a good stiff walk of six miles in a straight line, or in as straight a line as I could find, ashore.

I did not find it particularly easy walking along a road that did not roll as the deck of the ship usually did. I felt myself unconsciously looking out for a lurch every now and again, and I could not help feeling something like disappointment when no such movement took place. It seemed unworthy of a fellow with sea legs to walk along a level road that never put his powers to the trial by suddenly becoming an inclined plane, or by giving a roundabout roll. In a short time, however, I became reconciled to the want of excitement in this way compared with what I had experienced during my daily exercise aboard the ship; and though I was slightly stiff at first, I enjoyed my stroll immensely.

I walked along the base of Table Mountain towards where poor Cetewayo had had his farm, previous to coming to England and returning to his own country to die. On the road I met numbers of Malays driving in their curiously-shaped carts, the men wearing immense conical hats of grey straw, and the women with bright silk scarves. The day was, I afterwards learned, one of the Malay holidays, and certainly all the representatives of the race seemed bent on enjoying themselves. I was struck with the appearance of the Kaffir bullock-wagons which I also met along this road. Some of these vehicles were covered with canvas supported on an arched framework. I noticed as many as twenty bullocks yoked to one of these wagons; and as the Kaffir driver, standing on the board, in what sailors would call the bows, launched out the lash of his long whip with a bamboo handle like that of a fishing-rod, I could not help thinking that now and again the most straightforward animal must be forced to suffer for the disobedient. I was told, however, that the aim of the drivers with their long whip was so accurate that every animal bore the penalty of his own misdeeds only.

To one who has never been in a land where more than a single race of man may be noticed, the sudden appearance of Kaffirs, Hottentots, Malays, and Coolies in the neighbourhood of Cape Town cannot but seem very strange. It constantly seemed to me that I was merely looking at a series of moving pictures of a southern land. When, however, after wandering along by the slopes of lovely green vineyards—the vines growing in long rows, each plant not more than two feet high—I heard the whistle of a locomotive, I felt more at home. The familiar sound banished all my dreams. I hastened to the pretty little railway station of Mowbray and took the train back to Cape Town.

At the hotel I found Captain Harwood, whom I had invited to dine with me; and on the table by his side there was a packet of letters from home awaiting me. They were the product of two mails ; and from them I learned all the English news up to the date at which they had been posted, which, I found, was scarcely three weeks before. The pleasure of getting such letters in a distant land cannot be told. I seemed, when reading them, to hear once more the voices of those whom I loved, and to clasp their hands when I came to the parting words.

The ‘ Great Orion ’ remained at Cape Town for about ten days; and though it was mid-winter now, I found the neighbourhood very interesting, and made many friends; for an old comrade of my father’s occupied a high command at the castle, and with him and his family I spent most of my time riding and driving.

When I explained to my friends that I was taking the voyage for the benefit of my health, they were impolite enough to laugh. The fact was that the steward’s prophecy at the outset of the voyage on the subject of the advantages of sea-air and sea-feeding had been fully realised.

I was now feeling as strong as I had done before beginning my course of reading for my degree.

A storm off Cape Agulhas, a couple of days after leaving Cape Town, was really the first severe weather we had experienced since we had been towed out of the Mersey. The captain, knowing the dangerous character of the coast, gave it a wide berth, and soon, like the schooner ‘ Hesperus ’ in Longfellow’s ballad, we ‘ sailed a wintry sea.’ We went southward into a region of snow and sleet. The seas ran so high that for two days we were forced to heave-to the ship and lie there battered about without knowing an hour of comfort, without even knowing what it was to have a comfortable meal, for the cook had been struck by a falling spar and was laid up for several days.

But even if this accident had not happened, the pitching and rolling of the ship would have prevented anything being cooked in the galley. To go still further, it might be said that if the cook had not been injured, and if the galley had been available for cooking, it would have been impossible to serve a dinner even between the ‘ fiddles ’ of the cabin table. The jerking down below was terrific. We could not light the swinging lamp; and as the darkness came on about four o’clock, we were forced to hold our food in one hand and a candle in the other, balancing ourselves as best we could against the bulkheads. The only redeeming feature about such weather is that the howling of the wind and the roaring of the sea prevent all grumbling being heard. There may have been some grumbling aboard the ‘ Great Orion ’—indeed I am strongly of the belief that there was a good deal from time to time—but no rumble of a grumble was heard by anyone aboard.

CHAPTER XIV

A THIEF ABOARD.

HE run to Bombay was accomplished in such good time that Captain Harwood declared that he would rather be aboard the ‘ Great Orion ’ than the fastest of the Peninsular and Oriental steamers.

At Bombay I received another packet of letters, and here also I met a number of friends, including a cousin who was stationed at Kuratchee. It is scarcely necessary to say that I explored the caves of Elephanta and saw all the sights of Bombay. I then went in the steamer round the coast to Kuratchee, where I played my first game of Badminton, finding it a good deal warmer than our Oxford lawn-tennis.

Though I enjoyed my run ashore greatly, I found I had become so attached to the sea and the ship that I felt glad to return to Bombay and get aboard once more.

‘ There’s no place like home, Robson,’ I said as I sat down to the cabin table, which was well furnished with all the dainties that the Indian market could supply. ‘ There’s no place like home.’

The steward was delighted with my suggestion that I regarded the cabin as my home.

‘ I was afraid, Mr. Mostyn,’ said he, ‘ that when you got among your friends ashore there you’d slip your moorings, so far as we were concerned, and drift away from your berth here.’

‘ No chance of that happening,’ said I heartily.

‘ I know when I’m well off, and I know where I shouldn’t be well off. I mean to stand by the ship until the North-West Light comes into view again.’

‘ Now, didn’t they try to make you believe that you were losing your time aboard a sailing-ship, and that you would be doing well to see the rest of the world in a steamer, sir? ’

‘ If they did make such an attempt, Robson, you see that it didn’t succeed.’

‘ I knew they'd try it on, and I said so to the captain,’ cried the steward indignantly. ‘The idea nowadays is that every hour spent at sea is an hour wasted. Don’t you believe it, Mr. Mostyn.’

‘ I think I have proved to you pretty clearly that I don’t believe it,’ I replied.

‘ I’m satisfied, sir—I’m fully satisfied,’ said he in a patronising tone.

Before the vessel had been piloted out of the harbour I learned from the captain that he had received a telegram from the owners directing him to take the ship to Sydney, leaving it to his own discretion to go through the Straits of Sunda and to call at Cheribon, in Java, upon a merchant at that port, who might have some goods for Australia. This course the captain thought he would pursue.

I was ashamed to own my ignorance on the subject of this port, so I merely said, ‘ Oh, indeed ! Cheribon.’ But on the same evening I borrowed from the chief officer a copy of the sailing-directions for the Indian Ocean and the China Seas, and without much searching I discovered that Cheribon was situated on the north-east coast of the island of Java, a hundred and sixty miles beyond the Straits of Sunda, which, as everyone knows, or should know, separate the islands of Sumatra and Java. These sailing-directions I found invaluable under the present circumstances. I found out a great deal respecting the archipelago between the Malay peninsula and the north coast of Australia. The islands in this sea are innumerable, many of them being merely exaggerated coral reefs. The most important are, of course, Sumatra, Java, Borneo, and New Guinea.

As for the Straits of Sunda, I learned that the navigation of the broad channel between the islands was perilous owing to the number of coral reefs scattered about from one entrance to the other. Among the smaller islands was one named Krakatoa, which contained, the book told me, a volcano, but not of the active type. The track for vessels was within ten or fifteen miles of this island.

Our voyage from England to Bombay had been singularly devoid of excitement. The appearance of the iceberg after we had been a week out was really the only incident worth recording that had occurred, and I could not help feeling that unless the remainder of the voyage differed materially from the first three months, the story I would have to tell on returning home would be anything but an adventurous one. I began to think that all the stories I had read respecting the constantly varying scenes of adventure associated with a life of seafaring were the product only of the imagination of the composers. A course of study of some of the books with which I had been provided for the voyage by my brother Jack did much to strengthen my views in this direction. How could I avoid thinking as I did when I reflected that the ‘ Great Orion ’ had passed over about ten thousand miles of ocean, without meeting any adventure worth mentioning?

About a fortnight after leaving Bombay, an incident occurred which I cannot help recording. The hot weather that we had had without cessation from the time we re-entered the Tropics, sailing northward from the Cape, increased to an almost intolerable degree. The fine breeze that bore us along with all sail set seemed to be coming from the mouth of a furnace. There was no freshness in its breath, and though I rigged up a windsail outside my cabin port, to force, as it were, every breath into the berth, it remained so very hot and stuffy that I was forced to sleep on deck, until the men came with the hose in the early morning to swab down everything. Sleep from this point was, of course, impossible; so I accustomed myself to drop from the sea-grass hammock with which I had provided myself, and stand before the stream that came from the nozzle ’ of the hose for my morning’s bath. The delight of this system of bathing cannot be appreciated by anyone who has not tried it during such a spell of heat as we experienced aboard the ‘ Great Orion.’ I felt the appropriateness of submitting to the same treatment as that which is brought to bear upon a burning house, for several times I awoke from a frightful dream, imagining myself to be in the condition of a box of lucifer matches when one has by accident ignited, and the others fizz away like a body of troops firing a feu de joie on the Queen’s birthday. I believed that I could fully enter into the feelings of the matchbox when undergoing such treatment; and on awaking, I invariably hurried, as it might be said, to get myself extinguished.

One morning, after some weeks of the hottest weather we had yet known, I had gone down to my cabin to dress after receiving my bath on deck. Very little clothing, and that of the lightest sort, was sufficient for those days. I wore no waistcoat, and as my watch had once dropped from the side pocket of the cricketing-shirt that was my principal garment, I thought it prudent to depend in future upon the ship’s clock that hung against the bulkhead in the cabin, and not to run the chance of my watch being smashed beyond the possibility of repair, by falling upon the deck. I had thus put it carefully away in its case, with the chain coiled around it, placing the whole in my dressing-bag. On the morning to which I allude, I had, as I have already said, gone into my cabin to dress. I had scarcely lifted my brushes before I noticed on my little sofa a small tortoiseshell case into which I had long ago put my sleevelinks and the studs that I had taken from my last linen shirt before adopting the bushranger’s costume, which I found much more comfortable during the hot weather.

How careless it was of me not to return this case to my bag when I had last used it, I could not help thinking, as I picked up the case and was at the point of dropping it into the bag.

As I did so, it struck me that the case was curiously light. The gold links alone were heavier, I felt sure. I quickly opened the case, and learned why it was so light; the fact being, that it was empty—studs and links had disappeared.

I remembered so distinctly putting the articles into their place, I could not for a single moment fancy that it might be I had merely laid them aside on taking them out of the cuffs and the front of my last shirt. The only question that remained was, How had they disappeared?

On opening the bag, I was still further surprised to find that the case containing my watch and chain was no longer there. Being now thoroughly alarmed, I began a complete search through the dressing-bag. The result was the discovery that almost every article of any value in itself had disappeared: the silver mountings of the bottles, three cases containing scarfpins—one of these was mounted in diamonds and rubies—a gold case of antique French manufacture holding a miniature, on ivory, of my mother.

I hastily lifted the false bottom of the bag, and found, to my great delight, that the flat box containing English sovereigns, which I had placed in this secret recess, was undisturbed. The robber, whoever he was, had not suspected the existence of the false bottom to the dressing-bag. His ignorance proved that he was an amateur; for, as the professional brigands of Sicily and some parts of Italy invariably search in the soles of the boots of their victims for bank-notes, so the clever burglars at home always look for a false bottom in a dressing-bag and trunk—so I have been given to understand.

Who was the thief? This was the question which I had now to set about answering. Being flush with the deck, owing to the poop stern of the ship, my cabin could easily have been entered by any person aboard, though the steward was, of course, the only one of the ship’s company who was accustomed to go out and in as it suited him. Robson was, however, beyond suspicion.

The thought struck me, however, that, as the steward was particularly fond of taking things out of my cabin for cleaning purposes, it might be that he had noticed a tarnishing of the watch-case, the sleeve-links, and the other articles, and that he was now busily engaged polishing them with plate-powder. He was especially fond of plate-powder, I knew, and always went about with a plate-brush sticking out of his apron pocket.

I thought it better not to make any fuss for the present about the missing articles; so, on entering the cabin for breakfast, I asked Robson, in the most casual manner I could assume, if he had taken anything from my cabin during the previous day to clean up.

' I forgot to tell you, sir,’ he replied at once. ‘Yes; I took two pairs of boots that were beginning to be mildewy, not to say mouldy, about the patent leather. They’re not done up yet, for I don’t suppose you’ll be needing them till you go ashore at Sydney.’

‘You don’t suppose I intend to wear them so long as this weather lasts? ’ cried I, with a laugh. ‘ All right, Robson, knock the mildew off them. You are not polishing up anything else of my belongings? ’ I added, with apparent carelessness.

‘Nothing else,Mr. Mostyn,’ he replied. ‘ But, if you want anything done, I’m your man, sir ’—he fingered the handle of the plate-brush that protruded from his pocket.

‘ I’ll see what I can do for you,’ said I as I sat down to breakfast.

‘ You should have come in before the tea had time to get warm,’ said the captain.

CHAPTER XV

WHO WAS THE THIEF?

WHO was the thief? This was the question that was before me all day, as I sat on my comfortable deck-chair under the awning of the poop. It was by no means pleasant on this fine day to reflect that I was the victim of a robber —that there was aboard the ship at least one man who had had no scruples in appropriating my goods and chattels.

Who was he?

The fact of my thinking over this question brought back to my recollection the previous question which I had attempted to answer aboard this ship, namely, which of the sailors was Stephen Sliddell? I gave a start ‘ What if success in answering the one question meant success in answering the other? ’

I rose from my seat and strolled to the rail abaft the wheel, looking out over the stern as if I expected to see on one of the many birds that were following us the face and features of the man for whom I was searching, without having any clue to his identity.

The fact was, that I had become excited when the thought suggested itself to me that it was Stephen Sliddell who had stolen my watch and the other articles from my bag. I began to fear that I might do something to betray what was on my mind. In a few minutes, however, I was cool enough to be able to return to my seat and think what was best for me to do under the circumstances.

The result of my deliberations was that when I saw Mr. Micky O’Hara come aft with a couple of other men to heave the log at eight bells, I went to my cabin and returned with a fishing-line, just in time to meet him as he was leaving the poop, shaking from his hand the water that he had got while hauling in the log-line.

‘You are just the man I need,’ I said. ‘I want you to bend on for me a new set of hooks. When this wind falls away we’ll have some fishing, and I want to be ready to drop the line within the first five minutes of calm.’

‘ All roight, sur,’ said the Irishman; ‘oi’m at yer sarvice. It’s in quoite a purty set o’ kinks, this hemp.’

‘ It’s a bit tangled, indeed,’ I replied. ‘Never mind, we’ll soon set that right. Come aft with me and I’ll show you just what I want.’

We went as far aft as the skylight, and began the unrolling of the fishing-line.

‘ Listen to me for a moment, O’Hara,’ said I in a low voice. ‘ I got you to do this job for me that I might have a chance of asking your advice about a certain matter.’

WHO WAS THE THIEF?

117

‘ All roight, sur; oi don’t know what advoice a boy loike missilf could give to the loikes o’ you, but oi’ll do me bist.’

‘ The fact is that I have been robbed,’ said I.

‘ Robbed, sur! ’ he did not give any start, but the tone of his voice let me know how surprised he was.

‘Yes, robbed. Some one must have got into my cabin last night when I was asleep on the deck, and the consequence is that my watch is gone, and my sleevelinks have disappeared, with a few scarf-pins and the silver tops of some bottles.’

‘ Begorra! there’s some wan has sarious intintions o’ sittin’ up a jew’ler’s shop somewheres,’ said Micky.

‘ But I can’t see my way to become a partner in the business,’ said I. ‘ Now, the reason I have brought you here is to ask you if you don’t think that Stephen Sliddell is the thief? ’

‘ Whisht, sur; don’t talk above yer breath,’ said my companion, working away at the tangles of the fishing-line. ‘ What do ye want me to be a-doin’ of in the matther? ’

‘ I want you to treat with this Sliddell, if you find out that he was the thief, and get him to return the articles without any fuss. If I were to tell the captain of my loss he would make it very uncomfortable for you all in the fo’c’s’le.’

‘ He would, sur; there’s no doubt about that; but ye’d niver clap eyes on the things that ye’ve lost. He’s a dape wan, this Steve Shliddell. It’s himsilf has thim things all consaled in some place where no wan aboard this craft cud foind thim if we was to luk for a month o’ Sundays.’

‘ Then you believe it was Sliddell that stole the things? ’

‘ An’ who ilse would it be, sur? Will ye tell me that? Sure he’s the only wan here that has lived all his loife doin’ thricks loike that. Ah, ye don’t know Steve, sir,’ he added in a half-pitying way.

‘No, but I think I’m beginning to know something of him,’ I replied. ‘ It seems that you are the only one among the ship’s company who knows him, and that’s why I have brought you here. I want you to get back the things that were stolen: I want you to bring them back to me. I am prepared to give ten pounds for the lot and make no fuss about the transaction.’

‘ Ah, sur,’ said Micky, ‘ sure ye wouldn’t be afther offerin’ a thafe o’ the wurruld loike that money for what’s yer own propurty? It would be no use, sur, at all, at all. It’s him that would turn round an’ laugh at me if oi was to go to him an’ make him such an offer. It’s him that knows will that nobody aboard this ship cud lay their hands on what he has tuk. No, no; he’s a smarther boy nor that. But oi’ll be ayven wid him yit. The blackyard, that would ha’ stud boy to say me tuk up be the polis in his place! ’

‘But you see that your being even with him won’t get me back my goods,’ I remarked.

‘ Mebbe not, sur; mebbe not. It’s hard to till anything loike this. Mebbe things ’ll turn out differint to what ye expeck. Let me go my own way to work; but don’t say anything about the tin pounds agin. The thruth is, sur, I couldn’t thrust missilf to say “ no ” to the money, so don’t timpt a poor boy to make himsilf as big a thafe as th’other blackyard. “ Sit a thafe to catch a thafe,” they say; but oi don’t want ye to make me a thafe for the sake o’ grabbin’ Steve Shliddell. Say no more, sur. It’s a long toime before we’re jew in port, an’ it won’t be moy fault if he goes ashore wid those things.’

‘I’ll leave the matter in your hands,’ said I.‘ You will do your best, I know; and if you don’t succeed you may be sure that I won’t blame you.’

‘ That’s all oi ask for, sur,’ he replied. ‘ None of us can do more than our bist, and ye may be sure that it isn’t me that’ll do liss.’

All the time that we were engaged in this conversation we were not neglecting the fishing-line, which I had brought as an excuse for our consultation. We loosed the tangles, and Micky bent on a finer piece of hemp, with a series of hooks on crossed whalebone, to be ready to bait when the wind should die away, as I expected it would in the course of the day.

The Irishman then went to the fore part of the ship as usual.

I felt that I was doing right in trusting to his honesty and ingenuity to recover my property, though I really found it hard, when I questioned myself on the subject, to say what grounds I had for doing so. He had come aboard the ship with a black eye originally, and such a decoration, though it may be to some persons a sign of valour, does not as a rule tend to impress people favourably toward the wearer. Still I liked the man in spite of his blemish. I did not believe that the discoloration of his eye was deeper than the surface: it was not a stain upon his character.

A week passed without any change in the weather or our circumstances. The heat was intense, but the breeze from the north sent us along at seven or eight knots with stun’-sails set, so that we had no time to think about the discomfort of the broiling sun. During all this time I never had a chance of speaking to Micky O’Hara. Indeed I never looked for such an opportunity. I believed that he was doing his best for me in respect to recovering the stolen articles, so that nothing I could say to him could make him do more.

At the end of ten days a sudden fall in the barometer was noticed. The captain had the stun’-sails taken in, and sail shortened generally in preparation for a gale.

‘ It will be the tail end of a second-class cyclone, I expect,’ said he in answer to my inquiry.

This being so, I thought it prudent to keep in my own berth at night, and not to remain, as usual, on deck. I had no particular desire to be washed out of my hammock by the deluge of rain and clouds of spray that would be sure to follow even the tail end of a second-class cyclone.

I turned in to my cabin about four bells, and in WHO WAS THE THIEF?

121

spite of the sound of the washing of the water along the side of the ship, and the quick splash every now and again of a wave whose crest the wind had fairly caught, I was soon asleep.

I cannot tell how long I slept, but I was conscious of awaking with a start. An unusual sound had awakened me. It is curious that people who are accustomed to sleep soundly through a constant series of noises will start up when there is an unusual sound, however light it may be.

The instant I unclosed my eyes I saw that some one was in my cabin. The door had been left open and hooked back, and a streak of light from the swing-lamp in the companion shone through the open space. I could not only hear that someone was fumbling about my sofa, but I could see the form of a man bending over the sofa and feeling for something—perhaps for more than one thing.

My first impulse, on becoming aware of the presence of the man, was to put my hand over my head to where the silver-mounted revolver, given to me by Jack, was hanging, and to have a shot at this fellow, who was, I felt convinced, Stephen Sliddell. What seemed to me his audacious conduct in returning to my room in search of further spoil made me lose my temper. I felt that I had never before been so insulted, and I thought that only a shot at the man would relieve my feelings of indignation.

I managed to restrain myself, however. Putting forward my hand to the little shelf at the side of the bunk, I picked up the matchbox, without making the least sound to attract the attention of the man at the sofa. In another moment I had sprung from my bunk, striking the match, and endeavouring to get between the man and the open door of the cabin.

He threw down whatever was in his hand, and was evidently about to make for the door, when I barred the entrance.

‘You ruffian!’ cried I, holding the lighted match above my head. ‘ If you dare to stir from where you are, I’ll send a bullet through you. Who are you? ’

The man gave a start. The light gleamed upon his face. I dropped the match, for the face that I saw was the face of the Irishman in whom I had so freely confided.

CHAPTER XVI

THE LAUGH IS AGAINST ME.

WHAT! ’ said I, in a low voice, after a long pause, ‘ you here—you! I could not have believed that you were capable of such baseness. I have been a fool. You have indeed befooled me.’

He stood there, in the darkness, without a word. I fancied that I could see a look of shame on his face—that I could see him endeavouring to turn away his head.

‘ If you have any conscience,’ said I at length, ‘ if you have any remnant of shame left, you will restore me my property; you will restore me at least one article—the frame with the picture inside.’

He made no answer, and his doggedness caused me to lose my temper. I kicked out the hook that held the door back, and closed it, turning the key in the lock. The next instant I had grasped my revolver. The little ‘ click-click ’ made by cocking it caused the man to move back a step or two.

‘ You hear that sound, and you know what it means,’ said I. ‘It means that I must have your promise that I shall receive once again the article I have named. Do you understand that? Stand where you are, now, and promise that I shall receive the article that I have mentioned.’

‘ Don’t fear, sur; ye’ll get it,’ said the man.

‘ You swear that to me solemnly?’

' It’s thrue, sur; the promise o’ a boy loike me mayn’t be worth much, but it’s all ye ask for. Ye don’t want me to stay here till ye lay yer hand upon the pictur? ’

‘You have promised,’ said I. ‘ Go now.’

I unlocked the door, and threw it open.

The man seemed to hesitate.

‘ Oi hope, sur,’ said he after a pause, ‘ that ye won’t say a word to the capt’n about me bein’ here at this toime. Oi’m a bit afeard o’ the capt’n, sur; he’s not loike you, that’s ready to give a boy a chance to do will. Oh, ye won’t say a wurrud to him,sur? ’

‘ If you keep your promise you may be sure that I’ll give you the chance of redeeming your character,’ said I. ' I’m quite willing to keep your act a secret.’

‘ Oi’m much obliged tp ye, sur,’ said the man. ‘ Oi suppose oi can go now. Good-night, sur. It’s a bit rough outsoide.’

The cool effrontery of the man paralysed me. I felt that I should like to rush out upon him where he stood on the deck, just beyond my cabin door, as he spoke his last words; but the tranquil everyday tone he had assumed so astonished me, that it was really some time before I could return to my bunk, after carefully locking the door.

I found it impossible to sleep. The indignation I felt at the conduct of the man whom I had so implicitly trusted kept me in such a state of excitement, that I could only lie awake with the smallest amount of clothes covering me. I reflected upon all that had occurred. That the Irishman was the thief I never for a moment doubted. When I thought of the way he had listened to my story of how I had been robbed, and had agreed with me at once that Stephen Sliddell was the thief, I felt my face become hot with anger. He had indeed made a fool of me, and in the heat of my anger I made a resolution never to trust anyone again. I had always believed in my power of reading faces, but I would never place any reliance in it again. I would have proof of a man’s honesty before regarding him as honest.

The steward knocked at my door at the usual hour to awaken me and tell me that I could have either a hose bath on deck, or the more civilised tub in the spare cabin.

‘ Have you taken to locking your door at night, sir?’ asked Robson, who, no doubt, was surprised to find that I responded to his knock by jumping out of my bunk and shooting back the bolt, which I had fastened after the visit of the Irishman.

‘ The ship was rolling a lot, Robson, and I find that the bolt keeps the door from shaking,’ I replied.

‘ I’ll give you some pegs to keep it steady,’ said the steward, going away.

Before he had taken half-a-dozen steps he turned round, hearing a sudden exclamation which came from me.

‘ Did you speak, sir? ’ he asked.

‘No,’ I replied after a pause, ‘I—I—didn’t speak; only—it’s all right now, Robson.’

The exclamation which was forced from me was owing to my perceiving on the sofa a number of articles which certainly had not been there when I had turned in. The articles included the leather case containing my watch and chain, the tortoiseshell case with my studs and links, the boxes with my three scarfpins, the antique frame with the miniature of my mother, and the half-dozen silver mountings of the bottles in my dressing-bag.

I was so bewildered that I could only lean against the side of my bunk and stare at the things before me. Even when I had recovered myself in some measure, I could only turn over the articles one by one, as if I had never seen them before.

How had they come there, I wondered. Had I only dreamt that they had been stolen? Was it only a dream that I had of seeing a man in my cabin a few hours before daybreak? I could almost bring myself to fancy that my imagination was accountable for all that I believed had occurred —that I had had such another brain attack as came to me in my rooms at college on the evening after the exam. If I had worked out my mathematical papers in my sleep, might I not have hidden away those things which were now lying on the sofa before me?

Suddenly my glance alighted upon an object that lay upon the cabin floor—something that I could not count among my legitimate possessions. It was a small and extremely black briarwood pipe. I had seen it often before, and I at once recognised it as the property of Micky O’Hara. When I picked it up now, and held it at arm’s length from my nose, I could not help wondering how it was that I had not become aware long ago of its presence in the cabin, even though I had not seen it. I knew now that whatever dreams I might have had, the Irishman had certainly been in my cabin; for in addition to the evidence in that direction afforded by the pipe, I found in the case with the watch a piece of paper on which was written in pencil as follows:

‘ Sur thees is thim oil rite with ure umBill sur-vints Kombill-immense.’

I seated myself on the sofa, and I could feel my face become hot with shame as the truth of what had occurred flashed across me. The Irishman had not only kept his promise to do his best to get the case with the portrait that had been stolen from me, but he had succeeded in obtaining from the thief everything that I had lost. He had brought all into my cabin, thinking to leave them there unobserved by anyone, when I had awakened and, without putting a single question to him, had accused him of being the thief!

When I thought over the scene that we had had together—how I had taken down my revolver and threatened him—I felt overcome with shame. But when I recollected how he had made no attempt to justify himself, and to let me know that, so far from being the thief, he was actually the restorer of the stolen goods, I could not help laughing. He had enjoyed the joke that he had played upon me, and had encouraged me to involve myself more deeply in the mistake I had originally made. He had indeed made a fool of me. I blushed when I thought of how he must have enjoyed his practical joke.

After breakfast I took ten sovereigns and forced them into the capacious bowl of the pipe, and, wrapping the pipe in paper, gave it to the boatswain who had come aft on some duty.

‘ Will you oblige me by handing that to the Irish sailor when you go for’ard, boatswain? ’ said I. ‘It’s a pipe that he must have dropped down below—I picked it up this morning.’

‘All rightj sir,’ said the boatswain, touching his cap.

I watched him go forward and hand the parcel to Micky, who carelessly put it into his pocket so as not to attract attention.

Not until nearly a week had passed did I hear from the Irishman how he had watched Stephen Sliddell night after night until he found out where the stolen articles had been secreted. They had been stowed in the tube of one of the two brass cannon that stood amidships; the watch-case, being tolerably broad, had refused to be pushed in further than six inches from the muzzle. One night, when he fancied he was unobserved, the thief had gone to the cannon to satisfy himself that his booty was safe; he had been seen by Micky, who, by the aid of an iron hook used in the galley, had then ‘ drawn the charge,’ as he explained to me, of the gun, restoring the articles to their rightful owner.

After telling me the story, not forgetting to describe the way Stephen Sliddell had sworn on finding that he had been cheated out of his booty, though, of course, he was afraid to say openly what was the cause of his outburst, my friend Micky went on to reproach me for sending him the ten sovereigns.

‘ It wasn’t fair o’ ye, sur, at all, to timpt a poor boy,’ said he. ' I feel as bad as a thafe missilf for takin’ such a fill o’ the poipe o’ rale golden lafe. Indade it’s on me conscience still. Oi’ll tell ye what oi’ll do, sur: if oi foind that it’s oppressin’ me all down to the ground oi’ll retorn it back to ye again. But oi’m thinkin’ that mebbe me conscience will git used to carryin’ about the money, an’ it’ll not inconvanience me afther a bit—mebbe it’s wrong o’ me to hope so, but oi can’t hilp it at all. It’s moy proivate opinion that ye’ll niver see the money again, sur.’

CHAPTER XVII

THE GATEWAY TO THE PACIFIC.

AT length the ‘ Great Orion ’ was nearing the end of the third stage of her voyage. The first stage was from England to the Cape, the second from the Cape to Bombay, and the third, naturally, was from Bombay to the Straits of Sunda.

Nearly five months had passed since we had left England, and probably seven, or perhaps eight, would pass before I should be again at home. If we were but through the Straits, however, I should think of the voyage as half over. Hlitherto I had been looking forward only to the strange places abroad; but after leaving the Straits I should feel myself entitled to count the days till my return.

The Straits of Sunda may be regarded as the gateway to the Pacific for one wishing to reach that ocean by sailing east. On passing through this channel a new world of wonder lies before a voyager. Away from the countless beautiful islands of this archipelago, the China Seas wash the shore of one of the most interesting countries in the world. Japan and the Corea are to the north ; to the south is the island-continent of Australia, with Tasmania and New Zealand. To the east are New Guinea, and the many islands that lie, like green oases in the desert, scattered about the great ocean. It was scarcely surprising that I should look forward with eagerness to passing through the Straits of Sunda to the enchanted ocean-empire beyond.

It was on Saturday, August 25,1883, that Captain Harwood said I might expect to catch my first glimpse of the western shore of the island of Java. The day was bright, with scarcely enough breeze stirring to be called a draught, though generally the captain gave this name to everything under half a gale. Had the wind not died away we should certainly have been able to see the coast of North-Western Java before evening on this day. As it was, however, we were scarcely moving through the water, and I soon went astern from the position I had taken up with my binocular glass in the fore part of the ship.

I had frequently read that the perfume of the spice forests of these islands is carried for many miles out to sea, so that voyagers know by the scented air when they are approaching these coasts. I consequently went about the deck with my nose high in the air, sniffing, as it were, for the first spicy breeze from shore. I confessed to the captain my disappointment at the result. Not the least suggestion of a nutmeg, a clove, or a cinnamon stick could I perceive, to say nothing of a peppercorn, which I was not especially anxious to smell. It struck me before sunset that there was a suspicion of sulphur in the air rather than anything aromatic; and when I called the captain’s attention to this, he admitted that there was something sulphurous in the atmosphere.

I shall never forget the sunset that day. There seemed to be a haze over the disc as it descended; but before it touched the horizon this haze became penetrated with the sunlight. At first it was a pale pink in tint, then it became a soft orange, and when the sun disappeared, the colour changed, as it seemed, in an instant to crimson. Like a mighty velvet curtain suspended from mid-heaven, this gorgeous red cloud hung over all the West, making the water like a sea of blood.

Everyone on deck stood looking out at that wonderful sight, for the most beautiful equatorial sunset was colourless in comparison with this. For more than half-an-hour the vivid colour remained; and then, curiously enough, it seemed, not to dwindle away on the horizon to a single band of red, but to pass away and fade directly over our heads. The ship then was wrapped in mist, and the sulphurous smell increased.

There was now a dead calm in the air. The sails were not even flapping as the ship drifted imperceptibly with the current. Every now and again there came the sound of the rudder shaking in its socket—such a sound is common aboard a becalmed ship.

‘ What’s your idea of the weather? ’ I inquired of the captain, who had not left the deck.

‘ I can make nothing of it,’ he replied. ‘ That sunset should mean wind; and yet the aneroid is high, and still rising. This queer thickness in the air should mean a storm of rain;—but the wet monsoon does not come on till October.’

' If you can’t make out what it means,’ said I, ‘ you may depend upon my not giving a guess on the subject. Altogether, there seems to be something very mysterious in the air.’

‘ Mysterious? ’ said the captain. He looked at me for a moment, then glanced aloft, then round the horizon. Finally, he gave a little whistle and walked to the fore part of the ship.

It is unnecessary to say that his mode of proceeding did not help to reduce the mysteriousness of the situation. He was evidently very uneasy about the weather; and, as he was so, it was but natural that I should not feel quite at ease.

About an hour after sunset the temperature fell to a surprising extent. I had gone down to the cabin to drink a cup of tea, and when I returned to the deck I noticed the difference in the air immediately. I felt almost chilly, and was glad to keep in motion. The dead calm remained over the water, disturbed only by the light splash of a fish rising to the surface; and the darkness was intense. We seemed to be under a heavy pall, and afraid to speak except in whispers. The captain and Mr. Borrows stood together conversing; but though they were only a dozen yards away, I could not hear a sentence spoken by either of them.

In the course of another hour I fancied that I heard a louder splash at the ship’s side than could be caused by any fish unless a shark. I went to the rail over the stern and looked down. The water around us was curiously phosphorescent, and it appeared to me that a combat between the fish was going on beneath the surface, for the water was seething and boiling and curling within a radius of about six feet from one point. It seemed as if we had come upon a whirlpool, if that motion of the water was not caused by a duel between sharks or swordfish.

While I stood watching this singular thing it seemed to me that the stern of the vessel was lifted up suddenly, as if by a wave. The wheel spun round in the hands of the man who was in charge of the helm, and a curious shivering passed through the ship.

‘ What was that? ’ said the captain from the fore part of the poop.

‘ A fish must have run into the rudder, sir,’ said the seaman, who had now hold of the spokes of the wheel.

‘ It must have been a whopper,’ remarked the captain. ‘ The chain has not fouled, I hope? ’

‘ It’s all free, sir,’ replied the man, giving the wheel a turn to illustrate the freedom of the steering-gear.

‘ All right,’ said the captain.

The words had scarcely been spoken when there came a sound like that of a mighty waterfall. By the side of the ship there arose a dense column of water—nearly a hundred feet high, it seemed to me. It broke above us and came with a crash upon the deck, deluging us fore and aft, and scattering fish of all sizes, and shells, and stones about the sails.

Before I had recovered from my astonishment there came a rumble as of distant thunder; the next moment I was thrown against the skylight by a shock that raised the stern high into the air and dashed the seaman at the wheel to the deck.

I interlaced my fingers in the brass rods of the skylight guard, and held on grimly, with my teeth clenched, until the ship settled down once more on an even keel after a number of convulsive shudderings.

‘You are not hurt, I hope?’ said the captain, helping me to regain my feet.

‘ Not a scratch,’ I replied. ' I was more startled than anything else. Your aneroid did not tell us to expect that, or I should not have been taken unprepared.’

‘Take my advice and stand amidships,’ said the captain; ‘ and moor yourself with a stout line to the deckhouse. There’s no knowing what’s in store for us.’

I took a turn of a line round my waist.

‘ Can you tell me what has already occurred? ’ I asked.

‘ I never came across anything like this before,’ said the captain. ‘ But Mr. Borrows says it means a submarine earthquake. We can only wait for a breeze to carry us away from the neighbourhood.’

While we were speaking, the water, as far as we could see, was boiling around us on every side So peculiar a sensation as it produced can scarcely be described. It appeared to me as if the ship were upon wires, with some strong hand shaking the whole fabric about for amusement. This went on for some time, the craft spinning round as if the centre of the keel were on a pivot. Then she lay as quiet as a log. But as soon as she had settled there came a succession of the most appalling sounds I had ever heard. They at first seemed to be thunderclaps coming from a distance; but as they increased, they suggested rather the firing of a thousand great guns double-charged. The crashes were dull, hard, and metallic; they continued, with intervals of only a few seconds, for more than an hour, and the ship shuddered like a living thing in fear, until it seemed that the topmasts would be shaken down. To provide against such an accident, the captain gave orders for the topmasts to be stowed. The crew were engaged at this work when I went down to the cabin to take a rest, for I must confess that I felt a few sore places about my body, though the knocking about I had undergone had not done me any material injury.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE KRAKATOA ERUPTION.

I DID not go to my berth, for I felt that sleep under the present circumstances would be impossible; I merely lay down on the cushions in the circular seat of the stern. But though I had no idea of falling asleep, it somehow happened that I did so in a very short time.

When I awoke I was conscious that the ship was sailing free; I could hear the lapping of the water against the sides and the splash of the ripples in our wake. I rose quickly and went on deck. As I did so the quartermaster sounded two bells, and I knew that it was one o’clock in the morning.

My first impression on mounting to the poop deck was that the cold was intense. A fine breeze was sending the ship along at the rate of eight knots, and the night was moderately clear.

‘You should have been on deck an hour ago to have caught the first sight of land, Mr. Mostyn,’ said the second mate.

‘ What! ’ cried I, ‘ is land in sight? ’

He pointed over the starboard bow, and there I saw twinkling a single light.

‘That’s Anjer Lighthouse,’ said he. ‘We’ll enter the channel in a couple of hours.’

‘ And how about the earthquakes? ’ I inquired. ‘They are over—for the present at any rate,’ he replied. ‘ They only gave us a shaking—unless you find that you are hurt by your fall more than you thought at first.’

‘ I’m all right,’ said I. ‘ But what is that curious reflection in the sky to the nor’-east? Does it come from another lighthouse in that direction? ’ The mate looked in the quarter indicated.

‘ There certainly is a queer sort of glare,’ said he. ‘ It looks like the light of a volcano—there are lots of them on these islands.’

‘Doesn’t Krakatoa lie in that direction? ’

'Yes, it lies about there; but it’s what may be called snuffed out. It hasn’t been known to erupt for a good many years.’

There certainly was a peculiar glare in the sky to the nor’-east. It appeared like the first glow of a lovely dawn in a northern latitude, only it varied in brightness at intervals. Curiously enough, it recalled to my mind a journey I had once taken by night through the Black Country of England; the mighty blazing furnaces sent a red glow like that up to the sky.

I felt that I might now get a good sleep without any chance of being disturbed by an earthquake. Indeed I felt so sleepy after a stroll on deck that I believed nothing short of an earthquake would arouse me if once I fell asleep. The night was delightfully cool, and I felt very snug as I rolled myself up in my blankets and laid my head on my pillow.

I was not mistaken in the estimate I had formed of my sleeping powers. It was broad daylight before I awoke.

When I got on deck I found that the ship had entered the Straits of Sunda. We had passed Anjer Lighthouse, and were within sight of the coast of the island of Java, though too far away to be able to distinguish objects ashore, or even the position of the villages which, I learned from the sailing-directions, were along the north-west shore.

The Straits at the entrance are between eighty and ninety miles broad. In every direction lie islets of various sizes, many of them refreshingly green, with rich tropical plants, and others bearing but a clump of palms. It can easily be believed that navigation here is not child’s play. The captain had, however, been through the channel several times before, so he had not signalled for a pilot from Anjer, though we saw one of their boats scudding along with a great lateen sail. By the aid of a telescope I also caught sight of several native sampans in the distance. While I remained on deck a Dutch man-of-war steamed past us. This craft could be seen without the aid of a telescope. Far astern was a large four-masted ship, evidently iron-built, and with iron masts and yards and wire rigging, and almost alongside the ‘ Great Orion ’ was a China clipper making her way to the Indian Ocean. We replied to her signals, though a long time elapsed before I heard that she had reported us at home.

I was so interested in all that was around us that I scarcely noticed the dark cloud that was hanging around the horizon to the north-east. It was not until Mr. Borrows called my attention to this cloud, and told me that it was coming from the volcanic island of Krakatoa, which had evidently become once more active, that I took an interest in that particular quarter of the scene.

‘ Then,’ said I, ‘ it was certainly the reflection from the volcano that so lit up the sky last night.’

‘ It’s more than likely,’said Mr. Borrows. ‘ I’ve sailed in the South Pacific a bit, and I know what these outbreaks are like. Why, there was one burning mountain near the Fijis; we saw its reflection two hundred miles away and got some of its dust on our decks three hundred miles off. If that smoke doesn’t come from Krakatoa it comes from some of the other volcanoes about here. These islands are nothing short of one big safety-valve for the inside of the earth. When there’s too much steam in her boiler she lets it off by some of the vents in this neighbourhood.’

I went down to breakfast determined not to waste any time below, but to see everything that was to be seen in these Straits.

But even during the short space that elapsed between the time of my leaving and reappearing upon deck a great change had taken place. The breeze continued to blow as fresh as ever, but the day was no longer clear. A curious mist like that of the previous night filled the air. When I laid my hand upon the rail I found that it was thickly coated with black dust. The sun appeared as if one were looking at it through the darkest-coloured glass of a sextant; and in the course of another hour it disappeared altogether.

Then there followed a darkness that might be felt. The scene, that a few hours ago had been one of brightness and freshness, became darker than the darkest night. We seemed to breathe the darkness. It was appalling in its density.

The captain ordered the sidelights to be lit, and also the masthead light. Much of the sail was taken off the ship, and one of the mates stood by the wheel to see that the course was kept to a degree. The danger of running on one of the islands would be avoided if the course were kept exactly; otherwise our chances of safety would be small.

I admit that this unnatural darkness was terrifying to me. A feeling of being buried alive came over me through the darkness and the sulphurous atmosphere. The sense of drinking in ashes at every breath almost suffocated me. The swinging-lamp in the cabin was lit, but the glass shade soon became dim with the fine dust that floated down upon us. I could not lay my hand upon anything in the cabin without feeling the gritty layer.

Robson, the steward, usually so brisk and cheerful, I found seated on one of the cabin chairs; the darkness was so great, that I could not see whether or not he was so much appalled as myself by the terrible scene.

‘ What is to be the end of this, Robson? ’ I asked of him. ‘ Have you ever been through anything like this before? ’

‘ It’s awful, sir, awful,’ he answered in a tone that let me know he was as much struck as I could possibly be. ‘ I’ve never felt before now what the end of the world will be like. It will just be like this, Mr. Mostyn, if this is not the thing itself. There’s not a bit of good dusting down anything in the cabin. I’ve been and used up three napkins and a tablecloth already this morning, and nothing’s a bit better. The Egyptians wasn’t in it with us, sir, so far as darkness and dust are concerned. It’s awful, sir, awful! ’

His last sentence was followed by a noise that seemed to come from beneath the ship—a horrible crash that cannot be described. It suggested the falling of an entire street of the highest towers ever built; it was like the toppling over of a mountain—nay, that first crash was as if two enormous mountain-masses had met in mid-air. I fell back-on a chair, and sat there trembling. I do not think that any human being could have heard that sound without being equally affected.

Then there came a sudden glare of red light through the blackness of the air. It shone through the ports behind me, and brought out the shadows of every thing in the cabin on the bulkhead opposite. I found it impossible, however, to rise from my seat and look through the port above me, to see what was the origin of this lurid glare.

It was as well that I remained seated, for in another moment there came a roar of waters from beneath the keel—the ship was literally jerked into the air as if she had been a cork, and thrown upon her beam ends. The port side, at which I had been sitting, was that which struck the water, so that I was only thrown a few feet off my chair; but I actually found myself sprawling over the port that had been above my head. In this position I seemed to remain for several minutes—though the time could only have been a few seconds; then I felt the ship tremble all over like a living thing, as if she were struggling to right herself. Would she succeed? was the question that rose in my mind at that time. The answer was for some time—it seemed hours—doubtful; but gradually I felt her rise on her keel, and amid the crashing of glass broken by the shock, and the snapping of spars, the ‘ Great Orion’ righted, and I slid once more to the floor of the cabin.

She had scarcely become manageable before there was another rush of water alongside, and then sounded the rattle of stones upon the deck. I heard the captain’s voice above the din, and his orders were followed by a rush of feet overhead and on the companion, and a dozen men swarmed into the cabin, while another shower of stones was heard rattling about the timbers, and the waters surged around the ship.

‘Won’t you sit down? ’ said the steward, sarcastically, to the sailors who had so unceremoniously invaded his dominions. ‘ Let me press you to take scats, and just say what refreshments you’d like. Make yourselves quite at home.’

‘Stow that, sonny,’ said one of the men—an ancient quartermaster, ‘ stow that, or take a run up on deck yourself, and report how many five-pound pebbles you find abaft the mainmast.’

‘ We didn’t sign articles for this, mates,’ remarked another seaman. ‘ It’s the first time I ever did hear tell o’ a merchant-ship’s company bein’ made to stand an artillery fire from Davy Jones.’

‘It’s a newfangled notion this,’ said another.

‘ Airthquakes, so far as I can make out, should keep to their own speer, and their own speer is nat’rally the airth. They’re exceedin’ their dooty, as the magingstrates say about the bobbies that knocks sober men down; I never did hear tell o’ seaquakes o’ the same build an’ rig as airthquakes.’

‘ If they be tae gang on like this, a ken that oor wages be tae be doubled, mates,’ said a Scotchman.

‘ It’s a pity you left your umbrellas and goloshes at home,’ said the steward. ‘Yes, it was a bit of neglect that you’re bound to suffer by. But don't you be too much cut up about it; we’ll always be glad to see you come for shelter to the cabin; only give us notice, and we’ll take care that the dinner is extra good.’

The men laughed at the steward's rather broad ‘ chaff,’ and one of them suggested that, sooner than put the steward to any inconvenience, the crew had made up their minds to be content with a glass of stiff grog apiece.

‘ What’ll you take it in? ’ asked Robson. ‘ You’ve managed the ship so well between you, that there’s not a whole glass, bottle, or cup aboard. There’s a fine collection of tumblers and wineglasses in half-inch bits on the cabin floor: all you have to do is to piece them together like a dissected map, and run a brushful of cement round the edges, and there you are.’

‘ Come, mates,’ said a quartermaster, ‘ the shower above seems to be about over now; we’d best tumble up.’

‘Truer words never were spoken,’ said the steward.

The men laughed, and tramped up the companion. I heard their feet on the deck, and then the voice of Captain Harwood giving some order. The sound of brooms followed, and I knew that the men were clearing away the debris that had been flying about the ship from the second submarine discharge.

I afterwards learned that the captain had ordered the men to go below to escape the shower of stones, he only remaining on deck to steer the ship.

CHAPTER XIX

THE VOLCANIC WAVE.

SHORTLY after the sailors had paid us the visit which the steward failed to regard as complimentary, the darkness became less intense. I could make out the features of Robson at the entrance to the cabin, and had no difficulty in reading the expression that was upon his face as he picked up some fragments of the fine row of glasses that had been upon the swinging-frame. It was an expression of utter helplessness. He gave a sigh as he knelt on the floor and began searching among the pieces to see if by good luck a glass remained whole.

In less than half-an-hour the darkness had passed away. I thought I might now venture on deck ; and when I did so, I found that though everything was in a terrible state of disorder, no great damage had been done by the submarine upheavals. To be sure, not a whole pane remained in the skylight, and a boat on the port quarter had been wrenched off the davits and swept away when the ship had all but fallen on her beam ends. Still the captain admitted that, considering the peril we had been in, our escape had been wonderful,

Not until the sun shone out once more and the course of the ship was apparent, did the captain discover how completely changed was the navigation of the channel. Some of the landmarks that he had known for years had disappeared altogether, and others marked upon the Admiralty chart had also gone. One of the largest of the islands, whose name in the chart was ‘ Athwart the Way,’ was broken into four or five fragments, and many other islands of smaller size had sprung up in the course of the past few hours. Several palms and other trees floated in our track, their roots still clinging to the portion of rock that had become detached from the island where they had originally grown. The water for many miles around was of a brown colour; consequently the navigation of the ship was extremely perilous. It was quite possible that beneath the surface were many sunken rocks, and upon one of these she might run at any moment.

Happily, however, no accident of this nature took place. The captain tacked about the channel; and the result of his observation was that he ordered a course to be kept several miles nearer the southern shore. Here the water was comparatively clear, and he judged that it was more likely to be free from danger than the northerly track.

A bright clear evening, but cold, followed this day of terror—probably the most terrible day known to civilised people since the destruction of the Roman cities beneath Vesuvius. When I reflect now upon the perils of the voyage through the Straits of Sunda upon that day, our escape seems marvellous. Other craft were in the main channel at the same time, and I afterwards learned that none had received greater injury than the ‘ Great Orion.’

But the worst was yet to come.

I feel that I cannot be too brief in my record of the incidents of the next day, which was Monday, August 27.

On awaking, at an early hour, I went on deck to take a hose-bath; but I had scarcely begun to mount the companion when I heard a series of explosive noises louder and harsher than any of those of the day before.

‘ They have been going on all night, sir,’ said the steward in answer to my inquiry.

‘ And yet I have been able to sleep through them! ’ said I.

‘ There’s nothing like getting accustomed to a thing,’ said the steward. ‘ After a week or two of these eighty-one-ton-gun displays I believe that I’ll get to like them myself.’

The captain I found still on deck. He had not gone below during the night. The morning was very dark and there was a smell of sulphur in the air. Several upheavals had taken place during the night, and the volcano of Krakatoa had been like a furnace, throwing its flames up to the sky. The ship was now sailing through a sea of pumice, and fragments of vegetation and great gnarled roots floated past, and thousands of cocoanut palms, their feathery tufts just appearing above the surface, the long stems being anchored upon the mould of the half-ton of rock that had parted from some of the islands.

‘ There will be no deck-swabbing to-day, Mr. Mostyn,’ said the captain. ‘ Take my advice and put off your bath till the evening, when I hope we shall be quite clear of this locality. The dust has been falling all the morning and the pumps are choked.’

‘The sooner we are out of this the better it will be for all concerned,’ said I. ‘ But surely that thing will have burnt itself out before long.’

I pointed in the direction of Krakatoa, where clouds of lurid smoke were ascending and rolling away in mighty volumes to the north-east.

‘That thing, as you call it,’ said the captain, shaking his head, ‘ has a pretty fair-sized coal bunker to fall back upon when its furnaces are showing signs of burning low. The biggest coal mine, in Lancashire would not be able to supply it for more than an hour or two.’

I did not now feel any alarm when the rumble and roar of the volcano reached us. I had indeed become accustomed to the sounds, and scarcely noticed them. When, about six bells in the morning, just as I was thinking about dressing myself, the darkness came on quite as dense as that of the previous day, I simply lit my candle and went on brushing my hair as if the darkness were quite natural.

The Steward had gone forward to the galley to see about getting me a cup of coffee, and as he had not returned to the cabin, I thought I might have another turn on deck. I went up the companion, and found that all the ship’s lights were in their places. To the south everything was black as night, but in the north-east the lurid glare of Krakatoa shone from the horizon up to twenty-five degrees of arc on the sky. At very short intervals there came the sound of the unearthly cannonade.

I was at the point of speaking to the captain, when he started up and rushed aft, as if seized by a sudden frenzy. He looked out over the stern for a few moments, then shouted— I might almost say shrieked—an order that could be heard all over the ship.

‘ Clear the decks! ’ he shouted. ‘ Down below, every man of you! Batten down the hatches and hold on below.’

As he delivered the order he lashed down the wheel, passing a stout line between several of the spokes.

‘ Off with the binnacle-top, Mr. Mostyn: save the compass,’ he cried out to me, pointing to the binnacle.

I sprang forward and loosened the thumbscrews in the brass binnacle-top. In another moment I had lifted out the compass.

‘ Down to the cabin, for your life! ’ shouted the captain, grasping me by the arm.

He gave a single glance astern. I looked out in the same direction. What I saw filled me with horror.

In the distance there appeared a mighty white mass, stretching apparently right across the channel, like a solid wall a hundred feet high. I was transfixed with terror as I watched that mountain of water advancing towards us. I could not move, and the captain was obliged to force me down the companion by the shoulders.

Half-a-dozen men were already below, and Mr. Borrows and the chief officer were nailing boards across the skylight—a tarpaulin had already been lashed down over the brass guards outside.

The captain lashed the compass to a stanchion in the cabin floor, shouting to the steward to fetch tablecloths and whatever rope there might be below, for the men to lash themselves down.

Without another word everyone in the cabin grimly wound about his body either the stout linen or the hempen line, passing an end through a stanchion or round the brass handrail that was screwed to the bulkhead. The captain himself cut the lashings of the chairs, and dragged them into one of the side-cabins. Not for some time did I know his reason for doing so. He believed that the coming shock would break the lashings, and the chairs would then be flung about the cabin like ninepins, crashing against us when we could not avoid them.

When this was done we waited.

Only for a few minutes were we left in suspense, but the space seemed hours.

Not a word was spoken in that dark cabin. We were like men chained alive in a dark sepulchre.

The sound of many waters—I knew now what the words meant.

After an unusually long roll of the volcanic thunder, to which we had now become accustomed, there came the long harsh roar as of a hundred Niagaras. It increased in volume until the sound became absolutely overwhelming, taking away one’s senses, making a man mad. I remember crying out and doing my best to work out of the rope with which I was lashed to the handrail. Then came a horrible crash, not overhead, but beneath the keel of the ship. The stern was flung upward until it seemed that the ship was at the point of turning a complete somersault in the air, with the bows in the water. She seemed to be poised for several minutes in this position. I believe that a man could have stood upright on the bulkhead at the fore part of the cabin. Then I experienced the sensation of falling from a great height. My head became dizzy as the stern plunged down — down until it seemed that we should only stop when the bottom was reached. Then came a sudden wrench of the hull, and the ship almost fell on her beam ends; after that it seemed to me that the ship was being whirled round about like a toy on the centre of the keel, while the water poured into the cabin in volumes both through the skylight and the entrance to the companion.

I am not prepared to say what followed during the remainder of this terrible hour. I have only the vaguest recollection of hearing a confused noise of straining timbers and breaking spars—of surging waters and a prolonged roaring of thunder. I do not think anyone aboard the ‘ Great Orion ’ knew more than I did about what was taking place on deck. The truth was, simply, that the mighty wave had engulfed the ship and was carrying her along with it in its irresistible course, just as a leaf is carried along by a rapid stream to whose surface it has fallen.

All that we could do was to remain lashed to our places and await the subsiding of the wave, unless in the meantime the ship should capsize or become swamped. Fortunately neither catastrophe occurred, or I should not be able to relate what actually did take place aboard the good ship ‘ Great Orion' on this awful day.

I afterwards learned all that could be known regarding this phenomenal wave that swept through the Straits of Sunda. It seems to have travelled across the Indian Ocean from Ceylon, and to have been felt on some parts of the coast of Australia. When it reached the shores of Sumatra and Java it must have been at its greatest height. On the north-west of Java it swept away towns and villages, not leaving a vestige of even the largest habitations. All the lights along the coast were extinguished, the large lighthouse off Anjer being carried away, and not a stone left to tell where it had once stood. The destruction to property was, of course, enormous; but unhappily the devastation brought about by that wave was not confined to property. Ships passing through the Straits the next day were forced to sail among thousands of bodies that were floating on the surface. It was estimated that upwards of forty thousand persons lost their lives within the space of a quarter of an hour.

CHAPTER XX

THE SHIP IS DISABLED.

I CANNOT say what time elapsed before I became aware of the fact that the ship was still afloat, and my impression of being engulfed was removed.

The darkness had passed away, and I could hear the men talking on all sides of me. I was conscious of pain, where the lashings bound me to the rail, and my head was aching.

The captain was engaged loosing himself from his bonds beside me.

‘Are you all right so far, Mr. Mostyn?’ he inquired.

‘ I believe I am,’ I replied. ‘ I suppose if I were really hurt I should know it.’

‘ There’s no question about that,’ said he. 'If you don’t feel half dead you may consider yourself all sound. I feel a bit dazed myself, as if I had just got up after a bad fall of a hundred feet or thereabouts; but I’m all right We’ve had a narrow escape; but, thank God, all immediate danger is now over, though I’m afraid the ship is little better than a wreck.’

After freeing himself he assisted me in also getting free. The cabin seemed like the room with the Seven Sleepers after the breaking of the spell. The men had apparently been as much dazed as the captain and myself; but now they were unlashing themselves, having recovered at the same instant.

The captain was the first to go on deck. He was followed by the two officers and the half-dozen seamen, the steward and I bringing up the rear.

I was prepared for a scene of wreckage on deck, but what I saw there far surpassed the picture of destruction that I had conjured up.

The ship might almost be said to be nothing but a barren hull. Everything on deck had been swept away—‘ As clean as if done by contract,’ the steward remarked—the deck-house, the cook’s galley, the wheel, binnacle, and skylight. The mizzen-mast had broken off close to the stock, and was hanging over the side, held only by the starboard shrouds. The foremast was almost intact, but the mainmast was broken off by the crosstrees, not a scrap of rigging remaining to tell that there ever had been a spar upon the mast. The jagged top appeared above the crosstrees. Then the bowsprit was a mere stock, and the quarter had been stove in. One of the anchors remained all right, but the second was doubled up like a piece of lemonade-bottle wire. One of the flukes was straightened out, and the stock was bent into the shape of the letter S. The davits, to which the boat that we had lost on the previous day had been hanging, were washed away; but of the two boats that remained neither could be said to have received any great injury, though, curious to relate, the long boat had been turned over on the deck where it was stowed.

When the captain mustered the crew on deck, it was found that three seamen were missing. They had not obeyed the captain’s order to go below, but had merely turned into the galley. With it they had been, of course, swept away. The other men, who had taken refuge in the fo’c’s’le, were uninjured, with the exception of a few bruises, and I was glad to see my friend Micky O’Hara looking nothing the worse for the shock his nervous system must have sustained.

‘ Murthur aloive! ’ I heard him exclaim as he looked around the deck. ‘ Is it aboord a ship oi am, or on the deck of a marine store? Will, boys, there’s somethin’ surely good in store for us now. The worst has happened, so the next change is bound to be for the betther. Wouldn’t we make a fortshun if we was in the firewood loine? ’

‘Now, my men, bear a hand aft,’ said the captain. ‘ We’re in a bad way, to be sure; but we might be worse. We’ve plenty to be thankful to Providence for. I don’t suppose any of us here ever went through a danger like that, with such a small amount of loss. We’ve lost three hands, it’s true; but it’s a wonder that five times three weren’t lost I’ve come through a bit in my time, but nothing like that we’ve just passed, and I hope I never may have to face aught of the same pattern again. Clear away the pumps, carpenter, and sound the water in the well. I believe the ship to be staunch yet. Send a crew aft, boatswain, to rig up a jury-rudder, and clear away the wreck of the mizzen-mast.’

‘ Ay, ay, sir,’ cried the boatswain cheerily; and in a short time everyone aboard was hard at work, including both cook and steward, who were endeavouring to make the cabin stove do duty for the large cooking-stove that had been washed away with the galley.

Under these circumstances, I thought the best thing I could do would be to place myself at the disposal of the captain. I was something of a carpenter, I told him, and every hand, I knew, would be worth something at the present moment.

‘ I’m much obliged to you,’ said the captain, as I went up to him with my coat off and my shirtsleeves rolled up, to make a show, at any rate, of looking as if I meant business. ‘ I’m much obliged to you, and I’ll be glad of your services. Get a spare axe from the carpenter, and help to cut the mizzen-mast adrift.’

The carpenter supplied me with the necessary tool, which, by the way, was so blunt as to force me to spend a quarter of an hour grinding it, and then, by the side of three of the crew, I worked under the direction of the boatswain.

The wreck of the mizzen-tnast was soon cleared away; and as Mr. Borrows found that the rudder and the steering-gear were comparatively uninjured, the wheel only being carried away, we had no difficulty in bending on a jury-tiller, which did the work of steering admirably, by the aid of a couple of blocks and running-gear from the bulwarks.

Then a binnacle was contrived in a way that caused endless grins among the crew. For the idea on which it was founded I claim credit; and I am ready to maintain that it showed both originality and ingenuity—particularly the former—to suggest placing the compass in the seat of one of the cabin chairs, out of which the cushion had been taken. The chair was brought up and lashed to the binnacle stanchions, and by a little coaxing the outer gimbal ring of the compass was made to swing easily. To be sure, the thing had a queer look; but it answered its purpose as well as a twenty-guinea binnacle-stand.

The carpenter now came to the after part of the ship and reported that the pumps had been cleared from the dust and pumice that had choked them, but that there was over two feet of water in the well.

‘Tell off a crew to the pumps, Mr. Merrick,’ said the captain. ‘We must clear her of water before we set about anything else. Get the lead hove, Mr. Borrows.’

I admit frankly that I kept out of the way of the second officer, for fear that he should ask me if I would mind taking a trick at the pumps. I could not, of course, refuse if he were to ask me, but I shirked working at the pumps, and so I kept out of his way, and busied myself at something aft.

In a short time the monotonous sound of the chain pumps was heard, and the crew broke into singing to lighten their labour. Then the mate reported to the captain that the first cast of the lead had shown no bottom at a hundred fathoms.

‘ We’re about clear of the Straits, then,’ said the captain; ‘ so I reckon that we’ll be drifting a bit to the nor’ard. We must clap a bit of sail on the ship, Mr. Borrows, and make the most of the wind.’

'You don’t mean to run for the roadstead at Batavia, sir? ’ asked the mate.

‘ I mean to run for Port Jackson,’ said the captain. ‘ I don’t understand these shores, with their earthquakes and burning mountains and volcanic waves, and it strikes me that the sooner we get free of them the better it will be for ourselves. The telegram I got at Bombay made it optional with me to call at Cheribon, and I have no difficulty now in deciding not to do so. Don’t you think I’m right?’

‘ I do indeed, sir,’ said Mr. Borrows. Then, lowering his voice, he added, ‘ The fact is, sir, I don’t think it would be safe to run for any port in these seas where there’s a fair amount of trade: there’s sure to be a ship or two ready for a fresh crew, and I wouldn’t trust some of our hands to stand by the ship in her present state.’

‘ I have thought of that, too,’ remarked the captain. ‘ At any rate there’s no need throwing them in the way of temptation. I’ll have a talk with you and Mr. Merrick on the subject later in the day. But now we must try and bend on a bit of sail.’

The sail-lockers contained plenty of spare canvas, and before grog was served out to the men at two bells in the afternoon, the tattered foresail and the foretopsail, and a jib were sufficiently patched up by the sailmaker to allow of the ship being put on a course. The captain gave instructions for the mainmast to be rigged as well as was possible, with a spar that was saved when the broken mizzen mast was cut adrift.

I never was so much struck with the energy and the courage of seamen as I was now. On going on deck, immediately after that terrible wave had swept over us, I saw nothing but wreckage. It seemed to me to be impossible for the ship to be sailed in any way. I regarded her as practically a wreck; and yet before sunset she was being sailed on a course, and was beating her way nobly through the waves.

When one of the quartermasters hove the log and reported to the officer on deck ‘ Three-and-a-half, sir,’ I saw the captain turn away. The expression upon his face was not a smile. I knew that he was thinking of the contrast between this report of the quartermaster and the usual ‘ Eight-and-a-half, sir,’ or, as it had been for several days after leaving Bombay, ‘ Ten knots, sir.’

‘You have no reason to complain,’ said I. ‘I consider three-and-a-half knots wonderful for a craft that has come through so much as the “ Great Orion.” ’

‘ So do I,’ he replied. ‘ At this rate we’ll be at Sydney a few days after Christmas.’

CHAPTER XXI

THE CAPTAIN’S PLAN.

IMMEDIATELY after that volcanic wave had swept over us, carrying us, as it must have done, forty or fifty miles along with it, we had a spell of fine weather. The smoke of Krakatoa was faintly seen in the distance, but the water around us was comparatively clear, though, of course, the sea was running high. The sky was cloudless, and the remarkable cold that we had experienced during the two previous days passed away, and was succeeded by the usual heat of these latitudes before the winter monsoon comes on in October. The sunset that closed the day of the volcanic wave was full of lurid splendour. Its appearance led the captain to believe that the air was not yet free from the volcanic matter discharged by Krakatoa. Not until I returned to England did I hear that it was supposed by some of the most eminent scientific men that the succession of wonderful sunsets which were seen through the winter in almost every part of Europe, were caused by this same volcanic discharge.

Captain Harwood judged by the return of the usual heat, and by the cloudless sky, that we need not dread another volcanic wave or any other of the effects of the eruption. We were already a hundred miles from Krakatoa, and every hour, slowly it is true, but surely increased this distance from the island; he thought it as well, however, that the crew should believe that he dreaded making for the roadstead of Batavia, or Cheribon, or any of the other Dutch ports on the north-east coast of Java, solely because of the likelihood of another eruption. Some of the men might prefer taking a voyage to England in a sound ship rather than facing the discomforts of the remainder of the run to Australia in the ‘ Great Orion;' but the captain believed that the majority of his crew would rather risk an uncomfortable run of a few months than face a second volcanic wave.

When, however, after several hours’ hard work at the pumps, the carpenter reported that the water in the well had not been materially reduced, and it was plain that the ship’s timbers had been strained with the shock she received, and that she was leaking, I could see that the second mate at least was of the belief that the course should have been marked off to Batavia.

The captain gave orders for the pumps to be kept at work, and asked both his officers to go down to the cabin and talk over the position of affairs.

To this council I was admitted also. The captain stated the case very clearly. The ship was, he said, leaking, but not badly as yet, and it was quite likely that in the course of a day or two, when men could be spared for the purpose, the cargo might be shifted and the faulty timber repaired. Only one complete mast was standing, however, so that the question was, Should the voyage to Sydney be attempted, or should Singapore be run for, with a view to repairs?

The two mates said that they were quite ready to do whatever the captain suggested.

‘ Then I’ll tell you what I believe to be our best course under the circumstances,’ said he. ‘ I look at the matter in this light: if we make for Batavia or Cheribon, we may have to remain there for six months, fitting out and getting a new crew— for more than half of our men will clear off. Then Singapore is more than five hundred miles to the nor’ard, and when we get there we may be as badly off as at the Dutch port. Now my notion is that we’d best keep on our track to Australia, whatever we do.’

‘ We can’t sail a ship with only one mast, sir,’ said the chief officer.

‘You’re right there, replied the captain. ‘We can’t do that, and, what’s more, I don’t mean to try. Just eleven years ago I was chief mate of the barque “ Maori ”; we were caught in a cyclone in these waters—a bit further east—but the skipper got a jury-mast rigged up, and, being well acquainted with every coral reef from here to New Zealand, he brought the barque into a natural harbour, and into a natural dock as well, in one of the islands south of Macassar. It’s marked on the chart; but it never had a name till we called it Maori Island, after the barque. We put the barque in dock there, and inside three months built new masts into her. Now I can sail the “ Great Orion ” to that island; and what’s to hinder us bending on at least a maintop-mast, and maybe a jury mizzen-mast, stopping the leak and finishing the run to Sydney? ’

‘There’s nothing to hinder us, sir, if there’s any timber on the island you mention,’ said Mr. Borrows.

‘ Timber! ’ said the captain. ‘There’s as much timber as would make spars for the royal navy— a good deal more, too, considering that most of the royal navy spars are nowadays made of iron. Why, there are trees along the cliffs of the shore that only need to be stripped of their bark to make the finest masts that were ever stepped in a ship. Then we should find as much fresh vegetables on the island as will last us till we get to Sydney. The skipper of the “ Maori ” planted a lot, and there are just three master-mariners besides myself who know of the place, and they never fail to send a boat ashore when in these waters.’

‘ I don’t see that we could do better than what you say, sir,’ said Mr. Borrows.

‘Nor I,’ said Mr. Merrick; ‘provided that the leak can be kept under till we sight the island.’

‘ That’s just the point,’ said the captain. ‘ There’s no use in breaking the heart of the men at the pumps for the next month, or maybe six weeks. But it’s my belief that by shifting the cargo a bit we’ll be able to find the timber that’s started and calk the seam.’

‘ In any case we’d have to sail nearly ten degrees before we could look around us,’ remarked Mr. Borrows, putting on his cap; ‘so we may as well sail to the east’ard on our course, if we do have to keep a bit to the south’ard.’

‘ Good,’ said the captain. ‘ That’s the best way of looking at the matter. We’re in a bad way, no doubt, but there’s no good trying to shirk our work. We’ve got to reach Sydney before the end of the year, and we’ll run the best chance of doing so by working on to the east’ard.’

CHAPTER XXII

I ASTONISH THE CAPTAIN.

I SLEPT soundly that night—rather more so than Captain Hanvood, I am sure, for I don’t believe that he took off his clothes during the entire night. I left him on deck when I turned in and I found him on deck when I turned out.

The steward came to me with a long complaint against the captain. It appeared that he had not had what Robson called a ‘ square meal ’ for the past three days.

‘ And there he was pottering about the fore hold this morning, when the cook and me had put ourselves to no end of trouble to have a decent bit of breakfast for him,’ continued Robson. I I do wish, Mr. Mostyn, that you’d give him a hint—in a delicate way, of course—that there’ll be a mutiny in the galley and pantry if he doesn’t treat the hands in this part of the ship more respectful!y.’

‘Then he hasn’t taken any breakfast?’ said I.

‘ Not a bite, sir; and, what’s more, I don’t believe that he took any supper last night. That’s the way with your master-mariner; he’s of two classes, and I don’t know which is the worsen There’s the master-mariner that comes aboard with a sheet in the wind and a bottle of rum in every pocket; he keeps below and lets the mates do the sailing of the ship; and then there’s the master-mariner that stays on deck in all weathers, and so breaks down his constitution reg’lar every run. I don’t really know which is the worsen’

‘ Say no more, Robson; I’ll have the captain down before another ten minutes is over,’ I cried as I ran up the companion steps.

‘ Cajptain Harwood! ’ said I when I got on deck, ‘ perhaps you wouldn’t mind having a chat with me on the subject of the voyage.’

‘ Certainly not,’ he replied, evidently in surprise at the grave manner I assumed at that moment, and the formal way in which I spoke. ‘ I suppose this evening will suit you,’ he added.

‘ I think it better that we should have an understanding without any delay,’ I replied gravely. ‘ As a passenger aboard this ship I think I have a right to be heard, Captain Harwood, so I should feel obliged by your coming with me down to the cabin without a moment’s delay.’

He appeared to be in no small measure mystified. ‘ The sooner the better,’ said he after a pause, bracing himself up, as it were, for an important interview.

Needless to say that breakfast was waiting on the cabin table when we got below.

‘ We can talk as we take breakfast,’ said I. ‘As you remarked just now, captain, “the sooner the better.” ’

He seated himself, and I helped him largely to the curry that was before me. He took the plate mechanically, and began to eat what I knew was his favourite breakfast dish.

‘You need not wait on us, Robson,’ said he quickly; and with a sly look at me the steward went off. ‘ Now, Mr. Mostyn,’ continued the captain, ‘ perhaps you would kindly let me know on what point you are not clear respecting my intentions—I am anxious to return on deck.’

‘ I only wish to say at once, Captain Harwood, that as I have paid for my passage to Sydney, I think I should be allowed a voice on the subject of the voyage.’

‘ Why, you were here when the whole question was talked over last evening by the officers and myself,’ said the captain.

‘Then you have decided to call at this island?’ 'Yes; so much is, I may say, decided. We hope to be able to calk the timber that has started, and we shall likely reach Maori Island in twenty-eight or thirty days. It will take us probably a couple of months to instep the new masts, and then we shall likely reach Sydney, as I said, by the end of the year.’

‘ Then let me tell you at once that I object altogether to that programme,’ said I.

‘ I’m sorry for that,’ he replied. ‘ On what grounds can you object to it?’

I then began a long and somewhat senseless protest, something after the style of the people who write to the ‘ Times ’ respecting some imaginary grievance. I inquired how it could reasonably be expected that I should remain for two months on the island he mentioned, without being able to communicate with my friends; I declared that I had made many important engagements to lunch and dine at Sydney early in November, and could not possibly break them without offending several persons whose friendship I valued. I went on to give an address on the charms of friendship and the necessity for keeping appointments with scrupulous regularity; I assured the captain that I was willing, nay, anxious, to oblige him, so far as it was in my power to do so, but I declared that I must be at Sydney early in November.

The unfortunate man, who was compelled to listen to my harangue, made a feeble attempt to protest as soon as he had recovered from the surprise that first came upon him. Failing utterly in this attempt, however, he became impatient; he ate rapidly of everything before him, scarcely pausing except to stare at me now and again in a helpless way, as I rose to a point of eloquence in describing the unhappiness of an old age spent apart from the joys of friendship. Finally—when most of the eatables had disappeared—he drew out his watch, and started to his feet.

‘ I beg your pardon, Mr. Mostyn,’ he cried; ‘ I’m really very sorry to interrupt you; what you say is very true—generally speaking—but I don’t think that it’s quite to the point in question. I must go on deck.’

‘ But I haven’t half finished,’ said I; ' I’ve only dealt with one side of the question.’

‘ Oh, one side is quite enough for me,’ he cried.

‘ I’ll come to the other side presently, if you only wait long enough.’

The look he gave me was too much for my gravity. I burst out laughing.

He seemed to be under the impression that I had suddenly gone mad, and that my next move might be to spring at his throat.

‘ I hope you have enjoyed your breakfast,’ said I, still laughing.

‘ I hope so, too, sir,’ remarked Robson, who entered at this moment.

The captain looked bewildered for a short time. He glanced first at the steward, then at me.

‘ You pair of conspirators,’ he cried; ‘ I see what you have been up to. Do you call that acting up to your high-flown sentiments on the subject of friendship? ’

‘ Most decidedly I do,’ I replied. ' I don’t want to see you superseded in your command aboard this ship, as you certainly should be if you persisted in this course of sleeplessness and starvation. Now sit down in your chair and I’ll continue my discourse, and I can promise you a good sleep before I get well under weigh.’

The captain made a rush at me; but I adroitly slipped round to the other side of the table, and he hurried, laughing, on deck.

‘ I’m much obliged to you, sir,’ said Robson;

‘ you have done more good than you know. It won’t matter if he doesn’t touch a morsel for another twenty-four hours. But how he did eat, sir, while he was at it! I was behind the door, and the tears came into my eyes as I watched him. Think of another trick for to-morrow, sir.’

CHAPTER XXIII

AMONG THE ISLANDS.

FOR two days the crew of the ‘Great Orion’ were employed shifting the cargo, and, indeed, everything heavy aboard the ship, to the starboard side; for the strained timber having been discovered, it was necessary to give the ship a list in order that it might be calked. Of course I worked in the hold with the men, for, though I found no great pleasure in blistering my fingers and making my back ache, yet I knew that every hand counted something in our present emergency, and so I took my turn in the hold and at the pumps, the captain making no protest against my energy.

Fortunately the fine weather lasted while the carpenter was at work in the hold, hammering away at the side of the ship as if he were a prisoner trying to work his way out of gaol to freedom. I felt a certain fascination in going down to the main hold and watching him hammering by the yellow light of a single candle, that made the place more than ever like a dungeon. When the carpenter stopped work for a few minutes, the rats would come out from behind the bales of cargo, and move stealthily along the timbers until the next ring of the hammer sent them scurrying along out of sight.

The result of the carpenter’s work in the hold was to relieve the men at the pumps, and the monotonous sound of the cranks, that I shall ever associate with an aching back, came to an end. The ship still leaked, but not to any alarming extent, so that the crew were able to turn their attention to other matters, apart from the work at the pumps.

Of course the news quickly spread that the captain’s intention was neither to run into the roadstead at Batavia nor to go northward to Singapore, but to make for a certain island south of the Celebes, the exact bearing of which no one knew but himself. The chief mate told me that at first the captain’s determination caused some dissatisfaction aboard, and there was talk about getting up a round robin, asking him to make for Singapore, as the ship was in so unseaworthy a condition the crew did not believe that she could be worked to the island where the captain intended getting the mizzen-mast and the spars required for rigging the mainmast and the maintopmast.

The boatswain had, however, succeeded in reconciling the men to the captain’s plan, assuring them that the island was only as many degrees to the east as Singapore was to the north; and, besides, that by keeping a course well'to the south the chief danger from the Black Flags would be avoided. If these native pirates who infest the China seas were to come upon a ship in as crippled a state as the ‘ Great Orion,’ they would soon make her a prize and murder every man aboard.

These representations prevailed upon the crew, the chief mate said; but I was strongly inclined to believe that the idea of the round robin was given up chiefly on account of the prospect of a two months’ course of fresh fruit and vegetables; for the captain had taken good care to let the men know that there should be no lack of such dainties while the ship was refitting.

The captain was naturally anxious that his observations should be as accurate as possible during these days. We found after the first week’s sailing eastward from the Straits of Sunda, that in running by dead reckoning, that is, by heaving the log regularly every hour, and calculating the day’s run accordingly, a large allowance would have to be made for leeway. The current carried the ship northward, and its force was, as might have been expected, felt very much more strongly, owing to the absence of a mizzen-mast. Indeed, when the wind changed suddenly one day from the west to the south, and continued in this direction for nearly a week, the ship could not be kept upon her course, being compelled upon nearly all occasions to run before the wind.

During this week the captain’s good humour seemed to be approaching the vanishing point. We had run a couple of hundred miles off our course, and were nearing those seas most notorious for native pirates. Our situation was just becoming serious, when the wind came round once again, and, blowing steadily from the north-west, the ship was able to run for several days at five and sometimes six knots—a capital record, considering her crippled condition. No one seemed to entertain the possibility of the wind increasing to a gale, when our position would be extremely perilous, though, I must confess, this was my greatest fear. Happily, however, the breeze continued favourable; and the captain told me, in confidence, that he hoped in a few days to come in sight of Maori Island.

Several times during the thirty-three days that had elapsed since we left behind us the Straits of Sunda we passed within a mile or two of some of the loveliest coasts I had ever seen; for this sea is studded with islands of all sizes, each of which breathes forth a spicy perfume from its woods. Especially at evening were we conscious of the sweet scent in the air. For my own part I did not share the captain’s anxiety to reach Maori Island as soon as possible. I felt that I should not grumble if the ‘ Great Orion ’ were to be becalmed in these waters for a fortnight. My only anxiety was lest my people at home might’ become alarmed at the long delay there would necessarily be in getting a letter from me. The captain had said it was almost certain that we should be spoken by more than one vessel sailing westward; but though we kept a sharp look-out, we only caught sight of the smoke of a steamer on the northern horizon one day; no sail came in sight during these weeks, and soon we were quite out of the general track of vessels making for the Straits of Sunda or the Straits of Malacca.

On the thirty-fourth day after the catastrophe that disabled us, we reached Maori Island. It appeared ahead of us early in the morning—in fact, the sun seemed to rise from beyond the land. The accuracy of the captain’s calculations was now proved, for we had not to alter our course by a single degree after the island came in sight. Our bowsprit seemed to me, as I stood in the bows in the early morning, like a great finger pointing to the land ahead.

' Though we sighted the land immediately after sunrise it was the afternoon before we had approached close enough to see what was its formation. It did not look especially inviting, viewed from the westward: the face of the land was steep toward the sea, and though overgrown with some brown lichen, it looked very bleak; certainly no landing place was to be seen beneath those high cliffs. If any craft were to go ashore there, no human being aboard could hope to be saved. The harbour that the captain talked about must have been at the opposite side of the land.

We were not allowed a glance at any other part of the coast this afternoon, for the captain, shortly before sundown, when the island was perhaps four miles to the eastward, ordered the ship to lie-to for the night.

‘ We’ll have to warp her round in the morning,’ said he. ' I should not like to make the attempt in the darkness.’

Thus we lay all night, slowly drifting in the current to the north-west, and all through the darkness we could hear the roaring of the great ocean rollers upon the coast of the island.

CHAPTER XXIV

WE REACH MAORI ISLAND.

I WAS on deck early the next morning, and found that we had almost recovered our leeway since daylight. One of the boats was being cleared away and a line prepared to warp the ship round the coast as soon as the captain should give the signal. Not until we had come within half a mile of the cliffs did the order come to lower away the boat and stow the sails. The helm was put to starboard a spoke or two, as it might be said, though we were steering without a wheel; and as wc sailed round the coast I could see here and there a tuft of cocoanut palm among the rocks, and nowand again a division in the cliffs revealed a bright green patch of land as of a valley-slope in the interior. I think I never saw a more brilliant green than that which sparkled before my eyes for a minute or so, until the ship had slid past the parting in the cliffs, shutting out the vista of lovely colour.

Sail was kept on the ship as long as possible; and then, just as we had come in sight of the line of breakers on the opposite coast, the helm was put down, the sails were stowed, and the oars were dropped into the water by the six men in the boat. A line was payed out from the bowsprit end, and the hard work of towing the heavy ship ashore was commenced.

What work it was! Two slow dips of the oars: the slack line became straight; another dip, a quick jerk, and the line was slack again until it dipped into the water; then dip, dip went the oars, once more the line rising and the drops sparkling from its curve. It did not seem as if we were making any progress whatever toward the shore. It appeared that the boat was tugging at a fixed object. I could see, after the first half-hour’s work, that the men’s faces were damp, and that the drops were standing upon their foreheads; for, though very early in the day, the sun had already become hot.

On the east coast of the island the breakers were roaring over a reef that stretched almost from the northern to the southern point on this side. At some places we could see the jagged peaks of the line of rocks above the froth of the surf; but the northern point, round which our ship had just passed, jutted out in a curious way, as if the rocks here had been broken off abruptly. Between this point and the line of reefs there seemed to be no channel; the surf spread in one unbroken line round the coast, and eddied about the point for which the boat was steering.

‘ Well,’ said I to the captain, who stood beside the two men at the steering-gear, ' Well, I have been trying for the past half-hour to make out the channel, but I haven’t succeeded in the least. It looks as if the ship were being towed to destruction.’

‘ If it wasn’t for such an appearance we might save ourselves the trouble of landing in search of vegetables,’ said the captain. ‘ The key to the puzzle is known, as I told you, to only four shipmasters; the Admiralty surveyors don’t think it worth their while sounding for a channel.’

As the boat got closer to the point of the island the men aboard became evidently doubtful as to the exact course they were to take. They were rowing as the captain had ordered them, direct for the point; but the bow oar was looking over his shoulder every now and again, as if under the impression that it was high time to keep the boat further to the north.

The captain, when the boat was within about two hundred yards of the point to which it was steering, went into the bows of the ship, so that the boat’s crew could see him. He made a motion with his left hand for the boat to keep over a little, and the men obeyed at once. At the same moment he signalled the men at the ship’s tiller to port the helm. The boat was then heading for where the froth was boiling not fifty yards from the jagged cliff.

I could not help feeling somewhat anxious as the boat neared the surf. My thought was, What if the formation of the reef has been changed since the captain last visited the island? What if the boat should fall upon the edge of the reef and be broken to pieces before our eyes? Nothing in that case could save the ship. She would drift upon the reef and go to pieces within an hour. It was scarcely to be wondered that I should keep my eyes fixed anxiously upon the boat. It was already beginning to feel the influence of the swell caused by the relapse of the waves that were clambering over the reef. The bow rose and fell for a few moments as evenly as with the beat of a pendulum. Another dip of the oars, and the bows were buried in the white surf beyond; the spring of the tow-line, however, jerked the boat once again into smooth water. The men then lay on their oars for a while until the line slackened and dipped deep into the water as the ship came on; bracing themselves up then, the men rowed vigorously for a stroke or two. The bows plunged beneath the surf, rose once more, plunged again, and the boat was lost to view for a few seconds. Half-a-dozen more strokes, and before the slack of the line had become taut, the boat was in comparatively smooth water within the line of reef; at the same instant the ship had come into the swell and the loose halliards were shaking. A few more tugs, and the surf was roaring around us; our bows swept round a point or two with the influence of the waves, but the next sharp tug that they received brought us within the line of reefs, and beneath the shadow of the cliffs at the point of the island.

The reef-line, I now saw, ended within a quarter of a mile of the point, and the surf through which the ship had just passed was due simply to the force of the swell between the termination of the rocks and the cliff at the point.

The work of the men in the boat was not yet ended. The captain signalled to them to keep on toward the shore. They obeyed; but though the coast became less precipitous as we went on, I could see no sign of a harbour, or even of a strand where the ship might be beached. Before we had passed more than half a mile of the coast, however, the captain made signs to the boat to keep right in; and then, to my great surprise, and no doubt to the surprise of everyone aboard who was ignorant of the navigation of the island, a parting in the cliffs appeared, disclosing what seemed a broad estuary or fjord, with dark green water between sloping banks.

To the entrance of this water the ship was towed. From bank to bank the distance was not more than a quarter of a mile; but, when we had passed the headlands at the entrance, a curve in our course caused us to feel that we were actually in a land-locked basin. Then there came before our eyes a view of bright green banks, overgrown down to the water’s edge on both sides with tropical vegetation, and crowned with cocoanut palms and luxuriant plantains. Here the roaring of the reef could scarcely be heard. Silence reigned in the woods, and the splash of the oars in the glassy waters and their grinding in the rowlocks echoed from bank to bank. We were apparently being towed into the centre of the island, and the piece of water broadened as wc went on. The formation of the island soon became plain. The centre was a basin that had been hollowed out through thousands of years of wave-washing; unless, indeed, this central basin was originally caused by a convulsion of nature such as we had lately seen in the Straits of Sunda.

For more than a mile the ship was towed along, the quartermaster casting the lead at intervals. The first cast showed eight fathoms, then the quartermaster announced in succession seven and five fathoms. No man aboard knew what were the captain’s intentions; everything depended on the motion of his hand to the men in the boat. We were gradually creeping to the southern bank; and now we perceived that the shore at one place jutted out, making a small peninsula—it might more appropriately be called a natural pier -—a couple of hundred yards in length. This formed one point of a long crescent bay of white sand. Everyone then knew what the captain meant to do. It was soon done. A cable was run out astern, and made fast by the men in the boat to the stock of one of the largest of the many palms growing out to the end of this natural pier. This cable was gradually payed out as the vessel drifted ashore. The bows soon touched the sand, but so softly that we were scarcely aware of it. The stern slowly swung round, and the ship gave a gentle list to port. She was standing on her keel on the sandy bottom.

Another cable was run out from the bows and made fast to a tree ashore. All that now remained to be done was to cut some logs to shore the ship up and prevent her falling on her side with the ebb tide. The carpenter and a couple of men dropped into the boat with axes to discharge this duty, and the steward served out grog to the boat’s crew, who had been at the oars for the past three hours.

‘ Now, Mr. Mostyn,’ cried the captain cheerily, ‘ fetch your gun here, and a couple of dozen cartridges. We’ll have a few hours’ sport ashore, unless you’d prefer standing by the ship for a day or two yet.’

I need scarcely say that within a remarkably short space of time I had buckled my cartridge-belt around me and passed my gun down to the captain, who was already in the stern of the boat. A dozen strokes brought us ashore, and I jumped out upon the white sand.

CHAPTER XXV

AN EVENING’S EXPLORATION.

A LARGE leaf from one of the trees on the bank fluttered down through the air and fell at my feet as I jumped from the gunwale of the boat to the shore. I picked up the leaf and put it on the band of my cork helmet, where it waved like a great feather. I could have shouted with the joy I felt at the sight of this beautiful place. After being for more than three months looking out day by day over the waters, to come suddenly upon this paradise of green leaves and soft colours was almost too much for me. The captain laughed as I ran like a boy up the green bank and among the trees, until my feet became entangled in the creepers and I nearly fell forward on my head.

‘ If you mean to do that again,’ said the captain, ‘ I’ll beg of you,,as a particular favour, to take care that the muzzle of your gun is pointed away from me. I have no great desire to be the means of starting a burying-ground in Maori Island.’

‘ I could live and die here,’ I cried enthusiastically. ' What more can a man want than is to be found here? ’

‘ Nothing whatsoever,’ said the captain; ‘if that man’s tastes arc limited to cockatoo and sweet potatoes.’

‘ And rest,’ I added. ‘ There surely is rest for anyone here. I can understand the attraction that a hermit’s life had for people long ago.’

‘ Yes, long ago. The world went on very slowly in those days. But now things are different. Men are not fond of living lazy lives. Every fellow feels that he has his work to do in the world. Now, if you were to be left alone on this island, the first thing you’d do would be, not to lie down and rest, but to rig up the highest signal-post to seaward that was ever built, to try and attract the attention of any ship that might be passing—that’s what you’d do.’

' If you know all about the matter,’ said I, ‘ it is useless for me to speak a word.’

‘Quite useless. You’ll be on this island long enough for your taste, you’ll find. Now I must see how my garden is thriving. I little thought I’d have to be in it so soon again.’

We rose from where we had been sitting and went on through the palm groves, startling a number of bright green parrakeets that were sitting in a row on a branch of a knotted trailer that was stretched between two high trees, dropping oil cither side like a number of thick cords. Farther on we caught a glimpse of an exquisite lyrebird floating gracefully under the feathery palms.

Countless other birds of rare plumage we saw while we walked across the first ridge of the height above where the ‘ Great Orion ’ was lying; but I did not fire a shot from my gun. I had no inclination to slaughter these beautiful things simply for the sake of slaughter. I preferred reserving my cartridges for the more important game which the captain had hinted might be found in another part of the island.

Beyond the ridge we came upon the slope of a valley that apparently wound through the island from east to west. The nearer side sloped gently downward, but the opposite was steeper and more uneven. Both were overgrown with vegetation of a luxuriant type, but only upon the ridges did the cocoanut palms appear in abundance. Bananas, custard apples, loquats, and many other delicious fruits grew thickly around us, and it is needless to say that I hastened to test the quality of all that were within reach. I was able to report satisfactorily of everything except the loquats, which I tasted for the first time. I told the captain that it was my impression that the proportion of stone to fruit was too great for comfort.

‘ We’ll do our best to grow some for you on a new principle,’ said the captain. ‘ Maybe you’d like the next with the stones grown on separate twigs. If you would, just say so, and I’ll see what can be done.’

After strolling along for about a mile, we came upon a place that might be called a clearing. The trees had been cut down, with the exception of a clump in the centre, and within a square of perhaps five acres there was a genuine English vegetable garden, only on an exaggerated scale. Cabbages of all varieties were here, and the smallest was four feet high; the leaves of others were fully eight feet across. Cauliflowers on the same scale, and vegetable-marrows appeared in profusion; while a little further on we came upon a potato patch, extending over certainly half a mile of ground. The stalks were six or seven feet high, and they grew close enough together to form a perfect jungle.

‘ This takes my breath away,’ said my guide.

‘ What? the walking? ’

‘No, the appearance of this place. When I first landed here I planted half-a-dozen potatoes, a couple of cabbages, a single cauliflower, and a few other vegetables—a seaman and I carried the lot between us. My second visit was after an interval of a couple of years, and yet we were able to store our ship for two months. Well, you see the place now.’

‘ In a few years the whole island will be nothing but a vegetable garden,’ said I. ‘ But did you plant no live-stock on the island? I fancy I saw something mor e among the furthest ridge of these potatoes.’

' Have your gun ready,’ said the captain. ‘ I’m not so sure about the live-stock; but if there are any here they may turn out a particularly lively stock.’

He had scarcely spoken when a snorting was heard in our rear; then came a wild rush, as of a number of animals among the long potato-stalks; the next instant the captain was thrown off his feet, and went sprawling among the vegetation. I was more fortunate, for I had time to jump to one side and take a snap shot at a black mass that rushed past the captain and was at the point ot disappearing in the dense jungle.

A series of unearthly shrieks followed the sound of my second barrel; and from the trees beyond the potato patch arose a part song from the lories and cockatoos that seemed to me the worst music I had ever been forced to hear. I was almost afraid to think what I had done that raised such an indignant protest from the inhabitants, and it was some time before I could join in the captain’s roar of laughter.

‘ This is gratitude! ’ he cried; ‘ either that animal or that animal’s foremother was originally installed by me in this place, and it and its brethren have been living luxuriantly here ever since; and yet this is how they meet their benefactor! ’

While he was speaking he had hastened on through the potato-stalks and had picked up the spoil of my gun. He held it aloft by the fore-legs —a fine fat young porker.

‘ This will delight the cook, don’t you think? ’ he cried.

‘ It will delight others beside the cook,’ I replied. ‘We would do well to carry it down to the ship for fear of accidents. You can send a couple of the men up here to cut cabbages and dig potatoes, and give the ship’s company a feast to-night.’

‘A capital idea! ’ said the captain. ‘ Only you haven’t yet found out the weight of the animal. How long do you think you would remain in a good humour carrying this carcase on your back over uneven ground? ’

‘ What are we to do? ’ I asked. ‘ Shall we dig a hole and cache it after the manner of Indians? ’

' I fancy I know where it may be placed with safety,’ said my companion. ‘ Come along with me and take a leg of your game.’

Carrying the pig between us, we made our way up the slope for a short distance, and soon the bubbling of a little stream reached my ears.

‘ We’re on the right track,’ said the captain.

‘No doubt,’ I answered; ‘but this brute of a pig has been overeating himself—he is very heavy.’ All at once we came upon a structure at the border of the last line of trees, that was evidently not a freak of nature. It was a cross between a log cabin and a summer-house. It was a circular building, formed of the stems of palms, about seven feet high, placed side by side, and plastered over with a sort of mortar made of clay and shells. The roof was conical in shape, and through the centre a flagpole projected to a height of about six feet. A few rags of cloth still clung to the pole, evidently the sole remnants of a flag.

‘This is Maori Castle,’ said the captain, ‘the seat of the governor of the island. You must look on those tatters on the flagpole as the symbol of the majesty of the law, and the emblem of British sovereignty.’

‘With pleasure,’ said I. ‘ If I had a hand disengaged I’d take off my helmet to the Royal Standard. Is there a door to the governor’s castle? ’

‘ There certainly should be a door somewhere,’ said the captain, groping round the palm trunks, that were clothed with rich moss and creeping plants.

The door was found after some little difficulty, and the wooden bar that had been placed across it removed. We found ourselves within a spacious apartment with rough seats round the walls, and a still rougher table in the middle. On this table was a tin box carefully closed. Opening it, I found that it contained the sole archives of the island—a document written on blue foolscap paper, declaring that Maori Island had been formally annexed to the dominions of her Most Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria, by Jacob Brown, Master Mariner, of the barque ‘ Maori ’ of Sunderland. The latitude and longitude of the island were also given, and the document ended with

‘GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!’

printed in large capitals.

‘ We placed this record here when we first visited the island,’ said the captain. ‘ It is as well to be formal in such matters; the question of the possession of the island may arise at some future date and perhaps involve Europe in a great war.’ ‘You will certainly not be to blame if this takes place,’ said I; ‘ Captain Jacob Brown has annexed the island with all proper formalities. The British flagpole is still there, if the British flag is in tatters.’

We laid our prize porker on one of the plank seats and made our way back to the ship. As soon as we got aboard, the captain sent four of the hands ashore to dig potatoes and other vegetables, and to carry down the pig, for he gave them the bearings of the log house. It was evening as I sat in the stern of the ship. The glassy surface of the water was disturbed by the presence of thousands of waterfowl. I dropped into the boat and got two of the men to row me along the shore until I was within shot of the birds, and before I returned to the ship I had secured about a dozen small ducks, and four fine geese with black wings and wonderful purple breasts.

What a feast we had that night! The return to fresh meat and vegetables, to say nothing of the bananas and custard apples which the sailors had brought from the island, was certainly relished by the ship’s company even more than the double allowance of grog which was served out to all aboard.

In the cabin we were quite as jolly as the sailors in the fore part of the ship. We heard the songs that the musical portion of the crew were shouting, and then the sound of a concertina came upon our ears. Later in the night, when the moon, which was in its last quarter, had arisen, we saw a couple of figures dancing a hornpipe to the almost maddened shrieks of the concertina, which, not being accustomed to such fast music, was panting and gasping very much more than the dancers.

Altogether the scene was a remarkable one. In the shadow of that slope overgrown with strange tropical plants lay the ship ‘ Great Orion;' and here I thought she might lie until she went to pieces without any human being in the outer world knowing where she was. We might live and die on this island without anyone being the wiser.

I could not help wondering if we were to surround ourselves here with a few of those who were dear to us, and never leave the island, would happiness be the result. Why not? We could not possibly have any care on our minds. Wars might break out in every quarter of the world; we could hear nothing of them in this place. Fashions might come and go; we should not be perplexed what to wear; and yet I knew that I should, in spite of these facts, regard the beautiful island as a prison.

‘You have your work to do in the world, and you must do it,’ said the captain.

I agreed with him. It is only the savage who can take delight in a life of idleness.

CHAPTER XXVI

‘LAY YOUR GUN ACROSS YOUR KNEES.’

I DO not intend to force anyone to read the diary of my life spent upon Maori Island. Very little would be gained by such reading. My diary was simply a record of the wild pigs I shot in the potato patch and the wild birds on the water, for the benefit of the cook’s pot. There were hundreds of pigs in the woods, though the captain said he had only brought two ashore originally. All that I shot seemed not to lessen to any appreciable degree the droves that I saw daily. As for the birds, thinning their flocks was simply a matter of impossibility; they came in tens of thousands every evening to the sheet of water where the ship lay.

After the first fortnight at this place, when I had explored every part of the island, and carefully drawn a chart of the place, I became heartily tired of this life of hunting and fishing and idle roaming. I watched with greater interest than ever the progress of the carpenter and his men at their work upon the ship. The maintopmast and topgallant had been sent up, and the yards rigged in proper style. The defective timbers had been repaired, and in a short time the carpenter and captain were engaged exploring the woods in search of the best spar that could be found for a mizzen-mast.

The men worked well, and the fresh diet on which they lived, and the regular hours of sleep, had a wonderful effect upon them. They became, almost to a man, plump and, I might even say, rosy, though the faces of nearly all aboard were so bronzed by exposure, that the rosy patches were not seen in a moment. There was, however, as my friend Micky remarked one day within my hearing, a ' giniral Sunday look ’ about the ship’s company that could only be the result of what Micky called ‘ reg’lar livin’, an’ plenty of it.’

At last, after being for about six weeks at the island, Captain Harwood told me one day that he hoped to be able to haul out in the course of forty-eight hours.

I admit that, lovely as the island appeared, and agreeable though my life was within view of its beauty, I received the captain’s announcement without regret. I longed to be once again at sea and on my way to Sydney. I felt that I had gained during the past six months a sufficient store of health to last me for the remainder of my life.

On this very day I noticed the captain looking more than once at his aneroid, and becoming proportionately uneasy every time he looked. I ventured to take a note of the index of the instrument myself, and I was surprised to find that it had gone back on the scale from 30-3 inches to 29-4 inches within the space of twenty-four hours. A later observation showed me that the index was still falling.

What did this mean? We had had neither rain nor storm while we remained at the island. The sky was blue, and though a light breeze was usually blowing till nightfall, it never made its voice heard in the sheltered place where the ship lay.

‘ Mr. Borrows,’ I heard the captain say, ‘just cast an eye over the moorings fore and aft. See that the cable astern is made fast ashore, so that it can bear any strain. Then tell off eight men to go ashore for supplies. We must haul out tomorrow or we may have trouble doing it afterwards.’

‘ All right, sir,’ said Mr. Borrows. ‘

I was thinking myself that the monsoon was due about this time.’

‘ I’m afraid we shall have a touch of it before we get clear of the island,’ remarked the captain; ‘ the aneroid has gone down nearly an inch since last night.’

‘ That’s a sure sign, sir; but only a sign that the monsoon is under weigh. We may not have the first of it for another week.’

‘We’ll be at sea by that time, I hope.’

Mr. Borrows went to examine the moorings, and then he told off a foraging party for the shore, the captain asking me if I would have the goodness to accompany the party and shoot a few porkers to keep us in fresh meat for at least a week during the run to Sydney. I caught up my gun, dropped into the boat, and in less than an hour and a half I had provided as large a bag of game as the men could carry, in addition to the vegetables.

I could not help remarking that this excursion was the most fatiguing I had ever had upon the island. There was not a breath stirring. The atmosphere of the woods was stifling, and the sun overhead was scorching. I was heartily glad to get back to the ship. I remarked this to the captain, and told him that I believed a thunderstorm was lurking somewhere in the neighbourhood,

‘ I agree with you,’ said the captain. ‘ Let us only hope that we shall be able to look at it from the leeward of the island.’

This hope was not realised. That very night I was awakened by a peal of. thunder that made the ship tremble in every timber. I sprang from my hammock, expecting a deluge of rain to follow, but found, to my surprise, that the night was fine. The stars were shining, but with an unnatural brilliancy, and at intervals the surface of the water was stirred up in places as if with a strong wind— a miniature cyclone that danced along, making miniature waterspouts for its own amusement.

I knew that this playfulness on the part of nature would soon vanish and be succeeded by a graver mood. I was not wrong. The next time that I awoke it was to find the rain coming down in one solid sheet, while the chain-lightning surrounded us with barriers of flame on every side, and the thunder came in one continuous roar.

Drenched to the skin, bewildered by the noise of the thunder, and almost blinded by the lightning, I ran down to the cabin with as little delay as possible; and while drying myself, I heard the captain give orders for the stern moorings to be doubled. It was almost morning before his order was carried out. I could hear the men on deck engaged in the work of paying out the new cable, though, of course, I could not hear the oars of the boat’s crew carrying it ashore.

The captain’s mind did not appear to be quite at ease, even when this order was carried out. He had great reason for not feeling confident in the position of the ship; for while we were at breakfast we were startled in no small measure by the ship, which was standing on her keel, embedded in the sand, rolling over until the scuppers at the port side were almost under water. I just managed to grasp the table-cloth at both ends and raise it, so as to prevent the cups and saucers and dishes from being smashed upon the floor. I thought that the steward would prefer the coffee and ham and fried potatoes and butter being mixed in the tablecloth to seeing the fragments of the dishes mingled in a heap under the cabin seats on the port side.

The captain and chief mate ran on deck without delay, and I followed them. The cause of the eccentric behaviour of the ship was at once apparent. The poles used in shoring her up had been washed away, consequently she had rolled over, being aground in the bows.

There was, unfortunately, a considerable sea on, and, though our position was comparatively sheltered, the ship bumped more than once. The captain gave orders for the handles to be put on the winch, and the stern cables to be taken in so as to float the ship. This was no easy task; but in the course of the forenoon the water rose in our bay to the extent of three feet above its usual height—the result of the strong wind blowing through the entrance. The ship was found to float, and the winch was turned as easily as the reel of a fishing rod. The bow moorings were then slackened away, and for the rest of the day the ship rode easy.

We were now ready to resume our voyage; but we had first to get clear of this inland bay, which we had named, in commemoration of our visit, Orion Bay. The sea was too high to allow of the ship being towed out, especially as the wind would be against us. Not until the next day did the sea go down sufficiently to give us a chance of getting clear. The wind had shifted round a point or two, so that the boat’s crew would not have too hard work at the tow-line.

At last the order was given to let go the moorings fore and aft. I went forward to lend a hand at hauling in the cable. Before the work was done I found myself beside Micky O’Hara.

‘ Well, Micky, my lad,’ said I, ‘ how do you like the notion of being at sea once more? ’

‘ It’s missilf has no objicshun, sur,’ he replied. ‘ But there’s more nor me aboard the ship, an’ mebbe they don’t all be o’ the same intinshun.’

‘ Are they not? Do they wish to remain at the island all their lives? ’

‘ Oi don’t know about all their loives, sur; but luk an’ hear, sur ’—his voice sunk to a whisper—‘ if ye want to do a good turn for the skipper ye’ll git into the starn o’ the boat that’s got the tow-line aboard, and lay your gun across your knees.’

‘What do you mean? ’ I asked.

‘There’s no tellin’ ye, sur,’ he replied in a low voice. ‘ Only do what oi hint, an’ ye’ll not be sorry.’

CHAPTER XXVII

WE LEAVE OUR MOORINGS.

THOUGH I could not understand the import of the Irishman’s words, I knew that he was a shrewd fellow, and would not speak unless he had sound reasons for doing so.

While the boat was having the tow-line coiled in the stern-sheets, I brought up my gun from the cabin and hooked on my cartridge belt.

‘ I’ll just drop into the bows,’ I said to the captain, ‘ and perhaps I shall be able to pick up a duck or two as we go out. You’ll need some one in the bows in any case.’

‘ All right,’ replied the captain; ‘ only don’t shoot anything that’s not in the course of the boat.’ Five men were already in the boat—four at the oars and one astern. But the heavier the boat was the less it would jerk when the tow-line became taut, so that my getting into the bows would only make the men’s work easier. Still, when I appeared with my gun, I could not avoid noticing that the crew exchanged glances, by no means indicative of satisfaction.

‘You’ll have a better chance shooting from the bows of the ship than from the boat, sir,’ remarked one of the crew. ‘ We can pick up anything that you bring down.’

‘I’m much obliged to you for your offer,’ I replied; ‘ but I should have no chance of anything unless I were in the bows of the boat. The twenty fathoms of tow-line between the boat and the ship would be sufficient to keep anything out of range, and the captain has given me orders to shoot nothing that is not directly in our course.’

While making this explanation I was settling myself comfortably in the bows of the boat with the barrel of my gun resting on the thwarts. I did not look at any of the crew, but I could hear a muttered word or two between them. I believed that for some reason of their own the men objected to my presence in the boat, but they were, of course, unable to protest aloud against my coming.

Soon the slackened tow-line became taut, and the bows of the ship slowly drifted round.

‘ Give way,’ cried the captain, from the bows, to the men in the boat.

A long slow stroke was the response. The vessel slid away from the little harbour where she had found shelter for so long, and soon all the familiar landmarks were lost sight of. There was a current running outwards from the land-locked bay, and by its aid the labour of towing was somewhat lightened. Still, as the surface was anything but smooth, it was no trifle working at the oars, and the sun had set before the ship had passed between the headlands at the entrance. It did not take us long finding out the difference there was between the sheltered bay and the exposed water outside. The roaring of the breakers upon the reef was heard long before we came within sight of their white line, and before the ship was clear of the headland she felt the effects of the sea. The tow-line strained and the oars creaked in the rowlocks, with the exertions of the men in the boat to keep the ship’s head from slewing round with the force of the waves.

‘ Keep at it, my men! ’ shouted the captain.

‘ Give way altogether! Now then! ’

Inch by inch the boat’s crew fought their way onward. The ship’s head was kept out, it is true ; but so strong was the current along the shore that for every fathom she advanced toward the reef she drifted three along the shore. By the time she was half a mile out she had drifted a long way to the southward, and, consequently, away from the channel between the reef and the western point of the island. A tug steamer would have been needed to take us directly out; so that I was not surprised to hear through the dimness the voice of the quartermaster calling out the soundings to the captain.

In a short time the captain cried out to avast rowing—an order that was willingly obeyed—and the next moment came the sound of the anchor being let go. As the crew wiped their foreheads, I noticed that every man among them was looking, not in the direction of the ship, but of the shore.

They could see nothing there except the dark high coast with a glistening line of white foam where the waves broke about the bases of the cliffs.

What would the next move be? I wondered.

I did not stir from the bows of the boat, and the men made no attempt to return to the vessel, which had swung round in the current until the stern was nearest us. I could hear the seaman who was at the stroke oar mutter something to the coxswain, and I fancied also that I heard something very like an oath escape the latter. I was determined that there should be no opportunity for consultation among the crew, so I cried out from the bows, as cheerily as I could,—

‘ Now then, my men, take a stroke or two to bring me alongside, before we drift any further.’

Sullenly, as it appeared to me, the boat was put about, and brought under the ship’s stern. One of the men caught an end of the painter and mounted on deck by a hanging ladder, and we were all soon out of the boat.

‘ Shall we haul the boat up to the davits, sir? ’ asked the coxswain of the chief mate.

‘ No; haul it under the quarter and make fast the painter for the night,’ replied the mate.

‘ Ay, ay, sir.’

A few further orders were given with a view to save time in getting under weigh early in the morning, and the oars as well as the rowlocks were allowed to remain in the boat. Everything aboard the ship was snug. The anchorage was good, and though the wind was in shore it was not strong enough to make the anchor drag to the extent of a single fathom.

I turned into my bunk without any misgivings. Probably before I should be on deck in the morning the ship would be under weigh.

CHAPTER XXVIII

A WHOLESALE DESERTION.

I WAS awakened by the sounds of shouting and a general hubbub overhead. The day had just broken, and a very blustering day it gave promise of being.

I heard the steward’s steps on the companion, and called to the man to come into my cabin.

‘ What’s the matter, Robson? ’ I asked.

‘What’s the matter, sir? Not much is the matter, only that six of the crew have taken French leave of the ship, and have rowed themselves ashore in the long-boat.’

‘ Rowed themselves ashore? ’ I cried. ‘ Was there no watch on deck? ’

‘ There was indeed; but it so happened that the watch themselves were on watch only for the chance of clearing off.’

‘ But the officer, he didn’t go with them, I suppose?’

‘ They didn’t see any great need to be under the command of an officer, so they didn’t let either Mr. Borrows or Mr. Merrick know of their movements. They must have hauled the boat close under the bows and dropped into it without making any row. It was blowing a bit fresh through the night, and the water was roaring over the reef, so that it wasn’t curious that the men were able to carry out their plans without anyone being the wiser.’

I hastened on deck and found that all Robson had told me was true. I now recalled the hint that the Irishman had given me on the previous day. It was plain that a plot had existed among certain of the crew to get ashore, and the original plan was not to return aboard after towing the ship to her anchorage. My presence in the boat with the gun had interfered with this design; but from the mutterings and the sullen temper on the part of the men, it was evident that they had not relished my company. Still they had succeeded in making their escape as effectually as if their first scheme had not been frustrated.

The captain lost his patience over the affair. He declared that if it should cost him the ship he would see the deserters put in irons. If the ship should be compelled to remain at her anchorage for a month he would have them aboard; and all through his threats there ran an undercurrent of blame for the second officer, during whose watch the men had escaped.

I said nothing, but I could not help feeling that, whatever blame the second officer had earned, a double portion should be given to me. If I had only had the courage to acquaint the captain with the hints that the Irish sailor had given me the boat would doubtless have been hauled up to the davits, and unless the deserters had succeeded in swimming ashore, the)' could not have carried out their plans. It is, however, very easy to be wise after the event; I saw clearly now what I should have done, but on the previous evening I had not thought for a moment that so daring a plan as the stealing of the boat would be attempted by the men who had made up their minds to desert.

Walking to the fore part of the ship, I came upon Micky O’Hara.

' Is Sliddell at the bottom of this business? ’ I asked in a low tone.

‘ He is, to be sure, sur,’ the man replied. ‘ He can jaw the men into anything. He has been jawin’ for the past week about how good it would be for us if we cud get off clear from the ship and live as our own masthers on the fat o’ the land for the rest of our loives. Of coorse oi knew me gintleman, and parsaived that it was himsilf that was afeard o’ matin’ a polisman at Sydney that moight be acquainted wid him. It wild be betthcr livin’ on pork and green cabbage on the oiland there than on the brown brid and cowld wather that they supply so ginerous at the Sydney gaol.’

‘ The captain intends bringing them all aboard again,’ I remarked.

‘Of coorse he does,’ said Micky; ‘ but if he tuk moy advoice he’d lave Master Steve alone upon the oiland an’ let him shift for himsilf. We’re betther wantin’ him aboord,’

Before I could say that I quite agreed with him, the captain’s voice was heard ordering the remaining boat to be cleared away. We had had three boats on leaving the Mersey, but one had been carried away in the Straits of Sunda. The only remaining boat was now the captain’s gig. It was quickly lowered, and oars were dropped into it. The captain disappeared for a few minutes, and when he returned on deck he was carrying a couple of guns; the steward followed with two more and a heavy box of cartridges. Every large vessel sailing in those seas carries at least half a dozen small arms in case of meeting with Black Flags. It was evident that the captain meant that the deserters should be forced to return to the ship.

‘Mr. Borrows,’ said the captain, ‘you will take command of the boat. You will have four rifles, and you will use them if necessary. It will be for yourself to decide whether or not the necessity exists when you get ashore. I find that the arms-chest has been broken open, and the other four rifles that were there have been stolen—by the deserters, no doubt. Your instructions are to try and induce the six men to return on board. Explain to them that their life on the island will be a miserable one, and that they will probably remain there till they die. If they refuse to listen to you, your instructions are to bring them aboard by force. Let them know that if they fire a shot at you they shall be hanged to a man. I’ll have a man-of-war’s crew ashore inside three months—tell them that. You will do your duty, and so will your boat’s crew.’

The chief mate touched his cap with his finger.

He called out four of the crew byname. There was not a wide margin left for him to choose frorn considering that six of the crew had deserted, and that the boatswain and carpenter would have to stand by the ship.

I observed the faces of the four men who lowered themselves over the rail into the boat. I did not believe that there was a deserter among them. They seemed all honest fellows; and appearances in this case were not deceitful. The indifferent men in the ship’s company had been weeded out, so to speak, by Stephen Sliddell’s plot.

I stood on the quarter watching the boat as it rode over the waves to the shore; for a strong breeze was blowing, and, while the sea outside the reef was white as snow, the water within this natural breakwater was stirred into light waves. The set of the current was to the shore, and the boat made good way toward the low headlands at the entrance to the bay. There was a landing-place on the beach far to the southward; but the captain took it for granted that the first boat would make for Orion Bay, so he had directed Mr. Borrows to do the same. There could be no difficulty finding the deserters, he believed. They would be certain to land where the ship had been moored, and they would scarcely have finished their breakfast of fresh—very fresh—pork and potatoes by the time Mr. Borrows and his crew should arrive at the plantation.

I kept my eyes fixed upon the boat until it disappeared between the headlands, more than a mile to the northward of where our ship was lying.

CHAPTER XXIX

WE SLIP OUR CABLE.

WHAT would be the result of the search expedition which had just gone ashore? This was the question that occupied all my thoughts after the boat with the chief mate in the stern had disappeared. I dare say it occupied the captain’s thoughts as well, though he did not seem to have time to ponder over the matter or consider it in all its bearings. He kept the five of the ship’s company who remained aboard pretty busy, the carpenter and boatswain especially. Some alterations had to be made upon the new mizzen-mast, the captain discovered on the previous evening, when the vessel was being towed out of the bay, and he meant to have put half-a-dozen of the crew on to do this work. Now he was compelled to allow the boatswain and the carpenter to manage it between them.

At intervals during the forenoon he left the deck, and I could see him tapping the aneroid in his own cabin to learn what was the tendency of the instrument. I did not require to take any observations of the aneroid to learn what was its tendency; it was enough for me to observe the captain’s face eveiy time he returned to the deck. I knew from the anxiety he showed that the aneroid was falling.

About noon the wind, that had never exceeded a strong breeze, began to blow in strong fitful gusts from the sea. The vessel became very uneasy as she swung at her moorings, and the captain became more uneasy still. Only one anchor was available for use, the other having been bent up by the force of the volcanic wave in the Straits; otherwise an order would undoubtedly have been given to let go the second anchor. The captain, after remaining in the bows for some time in consultation with the second officer, got his pilot-glass, and brought its double barrels to bear upon the shore. From this action I judged that he had found that the ship was dragging her anchor.

Immediately afterwards I had an opportunity of observing the effect of those immense waves known as rollers, which come with such frequency to the shores of tropical islands. It is not necessary that a strong wind should be blowing to produce these enormous waves; frequently, when the weather is settled and a dead calm is over all the sea, the rollers are highest. With a long heavy swell they sweep along the coast with a noise like thunder, making it impossible for any boat to be launched from the shore, with the exception of those high-beaked whalers to be found at Madeira and elsewhere.

The wind off Maori Island was scarcely blowing what might be called half a gale, and yet before noon the mighty waves were breaking over the reef and tumbling ashore, striking the ship that lay athwart their course and sweeping the decks fore and aft. The new masts which had been built in the ship were imperfectly rigged, being designed only to make navigation to Sydney possible; provision had not, therefore, been made against the unnatural jerking to which the ship was now being subjected, and I expected every minute that the masts would be shaken out of their sockets.

As the day wore on the wind increased, and so did the weight of the rollers. The anchor began to drag, not inch by inch, but in ugly leaps; and shortly before eight bells, the new maintop-gallant-mast came down with a crash.

This was a real catastrophe; but, so far from increasing the captain’s temper, which had been smouldering all day, it seemed to make him calm.

‘ There’s nothing for it, Mr. Merrick, but to clap on a rag of sail and run for the channel,’ he said, in a quiet tone, to the second officer.

‘ I’m afraid we’ll have to try it, sir,’ replied Mr. Merrick. ‘If the anchor drags at this rate, we’ll be ashore in an hour.’

‘ And if the anchor holds, we’ll be in a condition for putting back for another month to refit. With this ugly jerking, not a stick will be left in the vessel by sunset.’

‘ In any case, sir, the boats would not be able to put off from shore to-day. We can lie-to to the leeward of the island all night, and bear about for the reef in the morning to signal the boats to come off.’

‘Take the bearings of the anchorage, Mr. Merrick; we’ll have to slip the cable and trust to be able to pick it up with the grapples in a day or two, if the weather moderates.’

It went to the captain’s heart to slip the cable, I knew; but the step could not be avoided. The hands that remained aboard were insufficient to work the winch, and then a trysail and jib had to be run up besides. It was plain that, in our condition, slipping the cable was our only chance.

What a chance it was!

We were fully two miles from the channel, between the north point of the island and the reef, and the wind was from the south-east; so that, with only a trysail and jib hoisted, we were bound to make some leeway, especially as the sea was so high. The chances were, I could perceive, decidedly against our being able to reach the open sea in safety. And what was the alternative ?

The slightest error in judgment would cause us to run upon the jagged teeth of the reef at one side, or to fall upon the rugged rocks of the headland on the other.

‘ Can I lend a hand to run up the jib? ’ I asked of the captain, for I felt that I must do something that should divert my attention from the peril of the situation.

‘ Certainly you can,’ he replied. ‘ We’ll need every hand aboard the ship just now.’

The six of us who, with the captain and the second officer, were now on deck—for the steward had come up from the cabin to do a day’s work —felt that we had before us the work of ten men. Some of us were perhaps clumsy—Robson and I were ready to admit so much for ourselves; but we did our best for the captain, who gave us our orders—-of that I am certain. Our lives and the lives of our shipmates on the island were, we knew, dependent upon our exertions.

With considerable difficulty enough sail was made to take the strain off the cable and allow of its being slipped. The instant the ship was freed the bows swung round, but the trysail was hauled over, and the captain, who had taken the wheel— we had a capital wheel now—ran the ship close to the wind, so that we might keep well to the windward of the channel. The captain wished to run down upon the channel, not to have to beat up for it.

Many voyages half way round the world are accomplished with less peril than there was in that run of two sea miles between the reef and the shore. The poor ship laboured through the heavy swell, her jibboom dipping with every plunge she made. After a sudden plunge she would roll till the scuttles were under water, and all the time the masts were creaking as though they were crazy, and the water that was shipped every time the bows dipped, washed about the deck—now fore and aft, then abeam, until there was no escaping a splash. We stood ankle deep in the water beside the trysail sheets, with our eyes fixed upon the point of the reef toward which the ship was being steered.

I never saw so fine a bit of steering in my life as the captain showed at this time. He seemed to take advantage of every roller—to steal, as it were, round the breaking foam at the crests of the big waves; and yet he managed to keep the sails drawing to the utmost, though we thought he was running directly into the teeth of the wind. If the ship was making any leeway it was not perceptible. For my own part, I felt that the captain could have done anything he chose with the vessel. I felt that the passage to the open sea was no longer a matter of chance. Had it been a mile to windward the captain could have run the ship out.

I had, however, reckoned upon the wind continuing to blow from the same quarter, and upon the atmosphere remaining clear for the next hour. But before the ship had gone over more than half the distance to the passage between the reef and the headland, the second mate pointed out to me the aspect of the sky to windward. At the same instant the captain also glanced over his shoulder, and then down to the compass. He was evidently taking the exact bearings of the headland.

He had great reason for doing so. In a few minutes I knew that the headland—that every part of the island—would be invisible from the ship. A tropical rain squall was coming down upon us, and would soon be wrapping us round as with a blanket. I was not mistaken. Above the hollow roaring of the waves that were breaking over the reef on the starboard quarter, and the distant thunder of the mighty rollers upon the shore of the island on the other hand, there came the sound as of a cataract falling a hundred feet. The hissing of the rain upon the water increased until it seemed to overcome every other sound, and then the squall swooped down upon us.

It appeared as if a waterspout had burst over us. We were, to all intents and purposes, sailing beneath a second Niagara. We were deluged in a single moment. The very weight of the water was almost too much to stand against. The solid sheets of rain struck the sails, and were thrown off with a noise like the discharge of musketry. So dense was the atmosphere that, standing amidships, I could not see the captain at the wheel. Only by the plunging of the ship could I tell in what direction was the bow or stern. The confusion of the sounds of the rain and the sea appeared to be too much for me: my senses seemed benumbed for some minutes.

When I recovered sufficiently to be able to realise the situation, the first thought that struck me was, how many moments had I to live? The ship was trying to make the passage of the reef, and this passage was only about four hundred yards in breadth, and it was altogether obscured by the density of the rain squall. It was merely a matter of seconds how long the ship lived—the next plunge might be upon the jagged teeth of the reef; or, escaping this fate, she would be dashed upon the steep rocks of the headland. I had never before realised what was meant by Scylla and Charybdis.

What would not five minutes of clear weather have been worth to us? But the clear weather did not come. On every side the deluge of rain encircled us—on every side sounded the roaring of the breakers and the hissing of the rain-flood. Suddenly there came a curious change—a change that cannot easily be described. The sounds of the tempest seemed to come from overhead in hollow tones. Everyone aboard knew what this indicated: the ship was beneath the high cliffs of the headland. Were we steering for them or for the passage? Another moment would decide our fate. At that moment the rain squall rushed past us, the air became clear to leeward, and we saw towering above us, within a biscuit’s-throw of our deck, the grim headland. We had just run through the narrow passage. The judgment of the captain had not been at fault. We were safe—for the present at any rate.

The single prayer of thanks that I felt, but could not utter, at that moment was, I know, the sincerest that had ever been in my heart.

CHAPTER XXX

FROM BAD TO WORSE.

WITHOUT altering his course by a single degree, the captain ran the ship right out to sea. The island had almost disappeared before he thought it well to put about. He then gave the wheel to the boatswain and ordered the trysail sheets to be slackened. The vessel was run before the wind, and was in a much easier condition, though the sea was higher than when she had been inside the reef. Still it was impossible to forget that we were altogether at the mercy of the wind and sea. We had no ground-tackle, no boats, no crew'. We could do little more than run before the wind.

Toward evening the captain thought he might venture to put some more sail on the ship and lie-to for the night to the leeward of the island. We had all to go aloft, with the exception of the captain and the mate, and I cannot say that I enjoyed my first experience on the yards. It seemed to me that I was greatly in need of a third hand to do the work that was expected of me— the work that my shipmates did with such ease.

We beat up for the island, running as close as was prudent to the reef. Through the pilot-glasses we could see the figures of our crew on the highest ridge of the cliffs signalling to us. We ran up a signal in reply, and fired a gun as well. Then we sheered off once more, and as darkness came on, we lay-to, about four miles to the southward of the island. The night was not unusually bad—only a few heavy rain squalls came down upon us. Every hour we sent up a rocket, and we could see that our friends ashore were anxious to do as much for us as they could in the same line. They lit a fire upon the highest point of the island, and all through the night we could see its flare, like the crater of a small volcano, in the distance.

‘ If we have a spell of good weather in the morning,’ replied the captain when I asked him respecting his plans, ‘ I shall signal to Mr. Borrows to make the attempt to reach us in the boats outside the reef. You won’t find me trying to run that passage again.’

‘ But how about the anchor and cable that you slipped? ’ I inquired.

‘ They won’t be picked up by us on this cruise, my boy,’ he replied. ‘ I won’t run the chance of losing the ship, to say nothing of your valuable lives, for the sake of some old iron. Once let me get my crew aboard, and you’ll not find me putting myself about for the anchor and cable.’

When morning came, we found that we had drifted some miles to the southward during the night Still we could see the smoke of the beacon fire on the island, and we beat up for it without delay. Once more we found ourselves to the windward of the reef; but it soon became plain that another day of lying-to was before us. We could see by our glasses that the rollers were higher than ever upon the shore. It would be impossible for any boat—even a whaler—to be launched through the surf. The boats of the ‘ Great Orion ’ could not, we knew, live in such a sea. They would be swamped the instant they left their shelter at the entrance to the bay, where the ship had lain for the past six weeks. There was nothing for it but to lie-to, or to run before the wind.

‘Well, captain, what do you think of the situation? ’ I asked, when we were once more sheering off.

He shook his head.

‘ The situation is more serious than you have any notion of,’ he replied. ‘ The aneroid is lower than I ever saw it in these latitudes, and it’s going down still. We'll have to give as wide a berth as we can to the island, and prepare for the worst.’

‘And what is the worst likely to be, do you think? ’

‘ It may be the tail end of a cyclone; it may be the centre of another storm of the same sort. At any rate, it’s coming, and if we are to wind’ard of the island, we’ll be food for sharks before night.’

‘ And what can we do? ’

‘Nothing but run before the wind, and batten everything down. Just see now, Mr. Mostyn, what a shipmaster has to put up with sometimes. You know all that I brought this ship through; and yet here we are, reduced to this condition through one scoundrel being among the crew. Most likely the ship will be lost, and the men on that island will die there. Few vessels pass this way, and if they make signals they will only attract the attention of the natives, and they will be worse off than before. The man that started the idea of deserting the ship simply because there was an unlimited supply of bacon and potatoes ashore, is a murderer, if ever a murderer lived on the earth.’

‘ I need not tell you that the name of the originator of the plot is Stephen Sliddell,’ said I.

‘ I guessed as much. The Irishman told you so?’

‘ Yes. Sliddell is at the bottom of all.’

The captain took a step or two up the deck, with his hands clenched. Then he returned to me.

' Mr. Mostyn, I’m not a revengeful man—I can generally control myself; but all I ask of you is, that if ever you find Sliddell within shot of me, with my knowing it, you’ll not let firearms be within my reach.’

The captain meant what he said, I could see. I made up my mind to take him at his word. If we were fortunate enough to get our crew aboard once again, I determined not to press Micky O’Hara to let me know which of the men was Sliddell, until the ship was at Sydney, when the police would be able to see that he did not escape the punishment that he deserved. When, however, I thought of what the captain had said about our chances of safety, I could not help feeling that there was little need for me to resolve with such earnestness what I should do on reaching Sydney, or what I should avoid doing till then.

Before midday we were out of sight of the island, running before the wind to the north-east. As yet there was no appearance of the storm that the captain expected. On the contrary, after sunset the sails began to flap. Though the sea was still high, the ship rode easily, for there was no wind to fling the crest of the waves against her sides. Instead of the storm that was expected, a calm had come on us. In spite of this, the captain ordered all sail to be stowed, with the exception of the trysail and jib. Everything was battened down in anticipation of the worst.

‘ Take my advice,’ said the captain, coming up to where I was standing; ‘ go below and snatch an hour’s sleep while you can. I won’t say when you will be able to get another.’

I followed his advice, turning in without removing any of my clothes. Having scarcely closed my eyes the previous night, I did not need a lullaby to be sung to me to send me fast asleep now.

I slept until something occurred to disturb me; the occurrence being that I was thrown out of my bunk to the cabin floor so suddenly, that if I had not instinctively assumed a good falling shape, I should have been severely hurt. As it was, I only got a few bruises.

I picked myself up as well as I could and hurried on deck.

The scene before me was terrific. So far as I could see the water around was white as snow, churned up in foaming masses by the wind, that seemed to blow with the violence of a hurricane, from no quarter in particular, but alternately from every point of the compass. The first blast that came upon my face almost suffocated me, and the remaining work of suffocation the sea appeared to be anxious to accomplish; for a wave struck me between the shoulders and then engulfed me. As I fell forward my head struck against the handrail, and for the moment I saw a larger variety of fireworks than may be witnessed even at the best fetes. Fortunately, I was only stunned for the moment. Shaking the water from my hair, I crawled on my hands and knees astern. The expedition was like making a tour at the bottom of the ocean. I was covered with water that rushed foaming fore and aft, splashing over the bulwarks, and apparently disdaining to escape by the scupper-holes. I found it necessary to pause every now and again, and to raise my head sufficiently high to allow of my breathing. For an excursion under similar circumstances one should have a diver’s helmet.

The chain lightning made a blaze all round the ship. By its aid I saw that the captain had lashed himself to the wheel. He caught sight of me and flung me the end of a line. It struck me in the face, and, grasping it, I made my way to the captain’s side, taking the line a turn round my body and lashing it to the stock of the wheel. Grasping the spokes on the starboard side, I felt that I might be able to help the captain to steer. One man at the wheel in such weather was no use.

By the lightning’s glare I now saw that the new mizzen-topmast was gone. I afterwards learned that the heavy sea, which had struck the ship, throwing me out of my bunk, had shaken down the topmast. I could not fail to see, however, that the trysail had not parted. Had it gone, the ship would have been no better than a helpless log on the water. Now, though in a very bad state, she was very much better than a log as yet. But how long would she remain so?

We were running before the hurricane, and we should be forced to continue doing so if we wished to have a chance for our lives. But whither was the wind driving us?

The answer came soon enough.

The lightning ceased to blaze after two or three hours; but at the same time the wind, that had been blowing pretty steadily, after the first outburst, from one quarter, shifted some points to the eastward, and the rain came down upon us, cutting us like the lash of a whip. I shut my eyes to prevent myself being blinded.

Just when the squall was at its highest, I felt my arm grasped fiercely, and the wheel whirled out of my hands. By the sickly light of the binnacle-lamp—the new binnacle had but one—I saw a white face close to my own—a ghastly face with staring eyes.

‘ Starboard the helm, for life’s sake! ’ the voice of the second mate yelled into my ears.

Over went the wheel, the spokes flying through my hands—over until I could feel the tiller jammed against the port quarter. I felt the ship actually swing round, and then there came a shock that passed from stem to stern—a shock and a crash of falling spars. The sea poured over the stern in one mighty volume, but only for a few moments; then the stern was raised high into the air, and the ship was flung forward like a chip upon the crest of a wave. Once more there came a shock, but less violent than before; the stern fell down, and the ship rolled over on her side, emptying herself of water, and heaving like a living creature.

I knew what had happened. The ship had run ashore upon one of the many islands south of the Celebes.

CHAPTER XXXI

A NATIVE VISITOR.

FOR some minutes the ship bumped terribly, but she had evidently struck upon a sandy beach, and was being pushed forward inch by inch by the waves. She had managed to swing partly round when she had floated after the first shock; for she was resting on the entire length of her keel, and her broadside was consequently turned to the sea. Instead of going to pieces with the force of the waves, the ship seemed actually at ease. She was lying with the decks sloping up from the shore, and she showed no sign of rolling over. This being so, all we could do was to wait till daybreak should reveal our exact position. We might have struck only upon a sandbank. In such a case our position would be the most perilous that could be imagined. The ship would break up piece by piece, and, being without boats, we should have no chance of escape.

It was a terrible hour that passed before daybreak, though the weather seemed to have moderated, for we could hear each other’s voices. The mate set at rest our fears lest wc had run upon a sandbank. He had heard the sound of breakers, he said, and, crawling to the bows, he had seen what he believed to be a long high shore, not a cable’s length ahead. Without thinking of the risk of being washed overboard, he had rushed aft and put the wheel hard over.

When day broke our position was made plain. The ship was lying on her side on the strand of a long uneven shore, and she was protected from the violence of the waves by a range of high rocks. She was, in fact, lying in a little cove behind these rocks, not more than a hundred feet from the entrance.

The mate had evidently seen the line of rocks, but the helm had been put down too late to clear them. The bows of the ship must actually have passed the point of the rocks when the helm was put down, so that, instead of clearing the point to seaward, the ship had been run to leeward, and had consequently struck with less violence upon the sand. We had had a marvellous escape. Had we run upon the chain of rocks, we should have gone to pieces within half an hour, so heavy was the sea; and had we escaped the rocks and run directly upon the strand of pebbles, we should have been equally unfortunate.

The island where the ‘ Great Orion ’ had run ashore, appeared to be a large one. The coast stretched for miles east and west, and did not appear to be a coral formation. The shores were high and well wooded, and there were apparently a number of rice-fields in a state of cultivation about a mile inland. The island was, beyond doubt, inhabited; just above the rice-fields we could see a cluster of native houses—huts of bamboo, plastered with clay. At the furthest extremity of our cove we also saw about half a dozen immense native boats of the prahu pattern, with low masts for the lateen-shaped sails of cocoanut fibre.

While we were giving our attention to these, and wondering whether it was to our advantage or otherwise to have landed on an inhabited coast, we saw running toward the ship a crowd of natives —men, women, and children.

‘Your gun is the only one aboard, Mr. Mostyn,’ said the captain to me. ‘Just bring it on deck, with a few cartridges, for the sake of appearances.’

I hastened down to my cabin and brought up the weapon, taking care also to put my revolver in my breast pocket. As I did so, I could not help remembering what my brother had said on giving me the revolver the night before I left home. Here I was, indeed, in the presence of savages; and perhaps in a few minutes I might be fighting for my life and the lives of my companions.

By the time I had returned to the deck the crowd of natives had reached the shore. They stood in a line, gesticulating wildly, while a regular babel of voices came from them. They were scarcely what might be called a well-favoured race, though very much more intelligent in appearance than the negro of the west coast of Africa. They were low-sized, almost to a man, and nearly all had short straight hair well greased, and ornaments of fish-bones in their ears and thrust through the cartilage of their noses. They wore very little clothing—only a short apron of fibre. The children were altogether naked.

As soon as I appeared with the gun, the crowd set up a loud yell, and some of the men who carried bows made a great display of these weapons. Others held arrow-tubes—hollow reeds about three feet in length', through which I had heard of sharp and poisoned arrows being blown.

At the captain’s suggestion I laid down the gun, and at this there was a loud clapping of hands and wilder gesticulations among the natives. But though the side of the ship was not more than a hundred yards from the shore, no attempt was made to board us.

How long we should have remained looking at each other it would be hard to tell; but just as I was about to ask the captain what the next step would be, there was an additional commotion among the natives. The reason for this outburst was apparent. Hurrying down the side of the slope, with but a trifling display of dignity, was a man who evidently occupied an important position among the natives. He was rather taller than the others, and he was fully dressed, having on a calico jacket and very baggy trouisers, made in European style. He wore on his head a conical straw hat of the Malay pattern. He carried a sword in his hand, and he was attended by two men, each of whom held an umbrella above him; but it was plain that the double umbrella system was more embarrassing than useful to all concerned. The umbrella men were constantly knocking against each other; and beyond doubt they were accustomed to do so, for the matted material of which the umbrellas were composed was tattered all along the edges. The amount of protection which they would have afforded the chief, in case either of rain or sunshine, would be small.

On reaching the shore this potentate was greeted with shouts from the natives already assembled, and with a peculiar gesture which was probably meant as a royal salute. His reply was a war e of the sword he carried, and at this signal his friends gave him a pretty wide berth. Then he gravely looked toward us, and took off his hat in English fashion, and, I am bound to say, with some amount of grace. At the same time he shouted out something that sounded very like the English greeting of ‘ Good-day! ’

Captain Harwood took off his cap and sang out a similar greeting, which I now knew was the Dutch for ‘ Good-day.’

‘ The fellow has picked up some words from the Dutchmen he has come in contact with—just as I have done myself,’ said the captain. ‘ He is, I dare say, the chief or head man of the village.’

‘ He’s singing out something more, sir,’ said the mate.

‘ I hear him; he’s asking if he may come aboard. I don’t see why he shouldn’t. We can’t keep him off if he wants to board us.’

He then shouted out some words of Dutch in reply to the chief, and the latter, nodding in a pleased way, made signs, and gave an order to the crowd of natives. In an instant a dozen men rushed off to where the prahus were hauled up. The chief stood without a word on the shore, while his men carried on their shoulders one of the smallest of the native craft to his feet. He got into the boat and seated himself amidships; and hoisting it once more upon their shoulders, the men carried it down to the sand and launched it, half-a-dozen men wading out through the waves until it was afloat; then, leaping at the same instant over the gunwale, so that the thing might not be capsized, every man seized a paddle, and with great cleverness, considering the shape and size of the paddles, commenced the passage to the ship.

CHAPTER XXXII

THE CAPTAIN’S CAUTION.

THE voyage was neither a long nor a difficult one. The ship lay, as I have already said, not more than a hundred yards from the shore, and the waves were not high in the sheltered cove. The small prahu was soon beneath our bulwarks, and the ‘ Great Orion ’ lay so much over on her side that the chief was able to get on deck without the aid even of a line. The captain greeted his visitor, and then told Mr. Merrick not to allow anyone else to climb aboard. To do them justice, the native crew showed no desire whatever to follow the example of their chief. They seemed to think that he was rather foolhardy ; but he showed himself to be quite at case on the deck. He talked briskly to the captain, with whom he had shaken hands, and was evidently inquiring whence we had come, and how we had run ashore. Though the captain replied to him in the best Dutch he had at his command, there was still a good deal of sign-making between them. It was my impression that neither the captain nor the chief had more than a rudimentary acquaintance with the Dutch language. The chief seemed, however, to be a master of the art of conversation by signs.

This kind of chat went on for about five minutes, the captain and his visitor standing against the sloping bulwarks. Then the chief shook hands in a most friendly way, and got into the high stern of the prahu and was paddled ashore.

‘This island is called in the native tongue Sangua,’ said the captain, ‘ and that gentleman calls himself the rajah. He is the largest pepper-grower in the neighbourhood, he says; but somehow he and the Dutch don’t get on well together. They won’t buy his pepper, because of the difficulty of shipping it from here. He actually calls this a grievance. I only wish we were clear of the place; I wouldn’t return for all the pepper in his dominions. I explained to him that I wanted a line run out from our stern to the rocks over there, to haul us off this sand; and he promised me the use of a dozen prahus and a couple of hundred men for the work. Will there be any difficulty getting us afloat, Mr. Merrick? ’

The mate shook his head doubtfully.

‘ We’re pretty high on the strand, sir,’ he said; ‘ but when the sea goes down we might make the attempt. In any case, we must have a crowd to shore up the ship. She can’t lie like this.’

‘ No more she can,’ said the captain. ‘ We must keep friends with the rajah, whatever happens. We are in his hands altogether, and I rather fancy he knows it. He was particularly anxious for me to tell him where the remainder of the crew were. I told him that we expected them every hour in the boats. He wants us all to go and take breakfast with him. I suppose we’ll have to obey him so far. We’ll examine the ship first, however.’

The result of the examination was to show that very little actual damage had been done to the ‘ Great Orion ’ through being stranded in this place. The foretopmast and jibboom were gone, and the timbers were doubtless so strained that the ship would be leaking all over. Still, it seemed not too much to hope that, if a cable were sent ashore to the rocks and taken a turn round our winch, she might be hauled off.

‘ Mr. Merrick,’ said the captain, ‘ we are in the hands of the rajah, as he calls himself. We can do nothing unless he lends us a couple of hundred men.’

‘ That will be about the same as a couple of dozen regular seamen,’ said the mate.

‘ About that, more or less; so we must keep on the best of terms with him. We will go and have breakfast with him, and return his invitation when the ship is straightened up a bit.’

In the course of another hour the rajah returned to the beach, wearing a rich velvet tunic that had doubtless been given to him with the title of rajah. On his head he carried what I have every reason to believe was a teapot-cosy, made of velvet and worked over with flowers in embroidery. He was attended by about thirty men, armed with short spears, and some of them with bows. An attempt had evidently been made to provide this army with uniform, for every man wore a pair of loose white drawers, and a small straw cap, almost lost among gorgeous feathers of all colours. The rajah was certainly bent on doing us all the honour that was in his power.

We might have distrusted him then, I have often reflected; but if we had given any sign of distrust, what would have been the result? Why, he would simply have ordered five hundred or so of his subjects to take possession of the ship. He knew our weakness, and that we could scarcely resist him in our present condition. It was clearly our best policy to make a pretence of trusting him implicitly.

The rajah had brought round to him another prahu—evidently the royal barge of the island. It was an immense boat, and it required fully two hundred men to bear it to where the rajah and his army were standing.

It was decided by the captain that the breakfast party ashore should consist of himself, the second mate, and the passenger. The boatswain, carpenter, steward, and the two hands before the mast were to remain aboard the ship, their instructions being that no native was to be allowed up the side. They were not told, however, how they should keep off the natives if a few hundred of them made up their minds to board. The captain was under the impression that a show of firmness at first would prevent any liberties being taken with the ship.

I prepared to go ashore, changing my garments, that had got wet through during the night. It was by no means an easy matter dressing in my cabin, considering the angle at which the floor sloped; besides this, every article in the cabin had been sent adrift by the shock of grounding. After some trouble I succeeded in making myself presentable, from a European standpoint at any rate, though it would be impossible to say what was the rajah’s private impression on the subject.

When I returned to the deck I found the captain waiting for me.

' I have just a few words to say to you, Mr. Mostyn,’ said he. ‘ You must see how difficult our present position is. We are altogether in the hands of these people. Our safety and the rescue of the crew who remain upon Maori Island depend upon our getting the ship clear; so that we arc bound to keep friends with the rajah, whatever happens. You’ll not mind, I’m sure, if anything happens ashore that is not quite according to your ideas of good manners.’

‘ I’ll not mind anything that may happen,’ I replied. ‘ The rajah may go as far as he wishes with me: I’ll not retaliate.’

‘ I knew I could trust in your own good sense,’ said the captain. ‘ We may have to put up with a lot; and we must pocket our pride for once. The rajah is, I can see, greatly riled because the Dutch merchants won’t make it a point to buy his pepper and rice; but I hope to be able to convince him that we are not Dutch, and that our sympathies are strongly with him.’

‘ Isn’t it a pity that you speak the language? ’ said I.

The captain laughed.

‘ My dear boy,’ he cried, ‘ if my way of speaking the language doesn’t convince him that I’m no Dutchman, I don’t know what would.’

CHAPTER XXXIII

A ROYAL LEVfÉE.

BY this time the royal prahu had been brought alongside; but it certainly proved a much less manageable craft than the smaller one; its high stern was allowed to give a bump or two against the ship’s side, that threatened to upset the rajah and his men-at-arms. His highness in consequence vented his wrath upon the man who was at what may be called the ‘ stroke ’ paddle. He beat the unfortunate wretch over the head with his own paddle, until I thought the weapon would break—I had every confidence in the endurance of the man’s skull.

When the rajah heard that only three of us were going ashore with him, he looked, as I thought, very black and greatly disappointed. After some words with Captain Harwood, however, his features became more composed, and he gave the order to paddle ashore. Though the prahu contained so many men, it was again lifted high and dry as soon as it grounded on the sand. The craft was so lightly built, it was a matter for surprise to me that the bottom did not drop out with such treatment.

On landing, we were conducted to the rajah’s palace, an immense crowd of his subjects following us, and being by no means careful to keep at such a distance as should show their respect for us. They seemed to be exchanging remarks upon the appearance of every member of our party, and more than once I felt my sleeve plucked by some of the more enterprising of the natives, in their anxiety to test the material of which my coat was made. I cannot say that I was impressed with the politeness of the race. They had evidently come in contact previously with so many Europeans, that they had ceased to regard any with that awe which is supposed to take possession of uncivilised races on the first appearance of white men before them. The rajah seemed to have largely developed commercial instincts, for before giving us anything to eat, he insisted on bringing us round his plantations. He showed us his rice-fields, his tobacco-garden, and chiefly his pepper-grove. He kept us among the pepper trees for more than an hour, explaining, for the fourth time, how badly he had been treated by the Dutch in respect to this commodity. He appeared to be under the impression that pepper was the chief article of diet among Europeans, and that it was eaten in spoonfuls off a plate at every meal. He explained that the only cargo of pepper he had ever disposed of was to the Dutch governor of one of the neighbouring islands, who had given him in exchange the title of rajah, and had promised to insist on all Dutch ships taking cargoes of the same nature from him. It appeared, however, that the governor had forgotten his promise, for the few ships that had anchored off the coast since he had made it, had declined to purchase pepper. The rajah’s face became livid with rage as he made this explanation, which was afterwards translated for us by the captain. It looked as if his partiality for pepper had affected his nature, for a more peppery old gentleman I never saw.

The palace was simply half-a-dozen wattled cabins, the clay on which was painted a bright red. It could not be said that the interior was in any way remarkable: the need for a table or chairs had, apparently, not been recognised by the royal house-furnishers. A few dishes of unglazed earthenware had been placed on the floor in the centre of one of the rooms, and at one side of the dishes there was a common roughly-cut platform about a foot high, and covered with a few cocoanut-fibre mats.

Here the rajah squatted without ceremony, and made signs for us to do the same. I cannot say that I felt altogether comfortable in the position which I was forced to adopt. However, I tucked my legs under me as best I could, and prepared to eat as hearty a breakfast as was consistent with etiquette. We had a singular meal. Half-cooked rice was the chief dish; this, with fish broiled—and smoked in the operation—could scarcely be called a dainty. Then came sweet potatoes, served up with pepper pods; and peeled bananas, with half-ground pepper strewn over them. After these courses large shell-fish were brought in, and another dish of pepper. The result of merely tasting these delicacies was to make me feel like an animated pepper-box. I told the second mate, who sat beside me, that I believed if he were to slap me on the back a shower of pepper would come out of my eyes and ears.

After these eatables had disappeared, a large basin or bowl was brought in, and several cups, of rough earthenware. The bowl contained an intoxicating liquor distilled from cocoanut milk. A sip from one of the cups was enough for me. The mate did not get beyond the same moderate allowance, but the poor captain was compelled to drink all that had been put into his cup. As for the rajah himself, I regret to say that he did not show that abstemiousness was among his strong points. He drank cup after cup of the horrid stuff, until he was speedily in a condition of intoxication.

This was very embarrassing for his guests, especially as he became extremely talkative and very demonstrative, taking up his sword and whirling it wildly over our heads, shouting out in his own language a number of phrases that we took to be threats against the Dutch.

‘I don’t like this situation,’ I remarked to the mate in an undertone.

‘ No more do I,’ he replied; ‘ but if we keep our eye on him we’ll be all right. The captain will bring him down the moment he goes too far.’

‘ And I have my revolver,’ I remarked.

‘Don’t use it until we find ourselves hobbled completely,’ said he. ‘ Who can tell what instructions those guards of his outside may have received?’

I recognised the wisdom of this advice, and resolved to act upon it.

At last our host, wearied with his exertions, fell backwards upon his mat, and his heavy breathing told us that he was asleep. We did not think it necessary to bid him any formal farewell, but, getting on our feet as quietly as possible, made for the mats that hung before the entrance.

We had scarcely reached the open air before we found ourselves confronted by a dozen of the guards. They made signs to us to return at once to the palace; but the captain pointed to the shore and then to the palace, going through the pantomime of shaking hands effusively.

All this did not satisfy the rajah’s men. They shook their spears in a threatening way and again pointed to the palace.

‘ There’s nothing for it but to return,’ said the captain. ‘ I don’t want to do anything that might be thought discourteous.’

‘You don’t think that we should show at once that we can be firm? ’ said I. ‘ Remember that I have my revolver.’

' I don’t forget it,’ he replied; ‘ but if we show it to them afterwards, and let them know the meaning of it, our yielding to them now will convince them that our intentions are pacific.’

We returned to the palace, and once again seated ourselves on the mats not far from the slumbering rajah.

For fully three hours we remained here, until the captain declared that he would stand this sort of treatment no longer. He went to our host and gave him a shake. The rajah sat up and stared around him in a bewildered way. The captain said a few words to him in Dutch, but he made no reply. He fell back, and once again his snoring filled the apartment.

‘ He may not awake until night,’ said the captain, ‘and I have no intention of remaining here till then.’

We boldly pushed aside the mat and went out.

We found the guards more obstructive than ever.

‘Just pass me that revolver, if you don’t mind, Mr. Mostyn,’ said the captain.

I at once handed him the weapon, which he cocked. Then he went quickly over to the native who seemed to be in command of the army. The man started back. He had, beyond doubt, seen a revolver before, and knew something of its properties. The captain made signs to reassure him, and then pointed out one by one the six chambers. He laid his finger upon one chamber and pointed to the man himself, then upon a second, pointing to another man, as if assuring him that every bullet in the revolver had its billet. He then pointed to my pocket, and explained generally that there were sufficient cartridges to be served out to the entire of the army.

This explanation was apparently satisfactoiy, for the spears were lowered at once, and we were allowed to walk on. We had not gone more than a hundred yards on our way down to the coast when the rajah’s guard set up a great shout. We looked back, and saw them waving their spears and bows frantically. They made no attempt, however, to follow us; and the ordinary people of the village seemed also to be under the impression that nothing would be gained by making further advances toward us.

We found a fisherman’s sampan on the beach, and in this we paddled off to our ship.

The boatswain told us that he had had great difficulty in preventing the natives from climbing up the sides. They had, however, made no attempt to carry out their desires by force.

CHAPTER XXXIV

WE ARE HADE PRISONERS.

THE whole ship’s company remained on deck that night, keeping a careful watch against a surprise by the natives; for we feared that when the rajah should awake he would regard our leave-taking after breakfast in the light of an insult. The guards had hinted as much to us. We remained, however, quite undisturbed.

Early in the morning we were all astir. The captain was afraid that Mr. Borrows and the others who had been left on Maori Island might fancy that we had deserted them, or that the ship had come to grief. It was necessary that we should at once take some steps to get away from this island and its peppery rajah. The first action that we should take was in respect to shoring up the vessel. She must be set on an even keel before we could make the attempt to haul her off.

The carpenter was just explaining his views on the subject, when our friend the rajah appeared on the shore, surrounded by his full court.

He hailed us as he had done on the previous morning. The captain treated him coldly enough, determined that if any question of etiquette should arise the rajah should be given to understand that he was the offender in having gone to sleep in our presence. When the rajah, however, stated that he wished to return our visit, we could not shout back to him that we were not anxious for this show of courtesy. The captain signalled him to come aboard, and in a few minutes the state prahu was alongside the ship.

The rajah shook hands with everyone aboard. He asked the captain why he had left him so soon on the previous day, and the captain replied, as he told us afterwards, that we had left because it was necessary to try and float the ship without delay. He expressed the hope that the rajah would allow us immediately to hire a hundred men for the work. The rajah replied that on the next day we should have two hundred if we needed them, but that today he wanted us to go ashore with him and visit a second pepper-plantation that he had at some distance from the palace. He was anxious, he said, that the announcement should be made in every port that he was being badly treated by the Dutch, who declined to buy his pepper, though he had a finer growth of it than could be found at any of the other islands.

I quite expected that the captain would refuse to go ashore, and probably his first impulse was to refuse; but a moment’s reflection showed him that the rajah should be humoured. Consequently he agreed to go ashore, provided that a promise was given that a hundred of the best men would be placed at his disposal early the next day. The rajah gave the promise at once, and again we found ourselves in the prahu being paddled ashore.

‘ I’ll take very good care that I eat no more of his pepper,’ said the second mate. ‘ I have felt ever since yesterday’s breakfast as if I had swallowed a torchlight procession. No: his pepper may be the best in the universe, but I’ll not sample it again. I’ll take its merits for granted. But he evidently thinks that such a breakfast is not to be sneezed at.’

‘ He’s wrong there,’ said I. ' If a meal with about a ton of pepper flying about is not to be sneezed at, I’d like to know what is.’

The same programme as that of the previous day was gone through, only the captain told us our host said that as the other plantation was so far away, it would be better if we were to eat something before setting out.

‘ I knew what was coming,’ said the mate. ‘ We’ll be forced to eat another stone of that stuff.’ ‘ Come along,’ said the captain; ‘ this is the last time we’ll be forced to do it. We can live for the rest of our lives in a pepperless condition.’

We entered the palace, and once more our host squatted down before the earthen dishes of rice. We followed his example. I was sitting with my back turned to the entrance, and was about to make a remark to the mate, when I heard a shout from the captain. Before I could turn round or spring to my feet, I felt nearly smothered beneath the weight of half-a-dozen men. I know that I struck out pretty freely for a few seconds, and I experienced a sense of relief as my fist came in contact with some of the black faces that were above mine. The relief, however, was only momentary; my hands were forced behind my back and tied with coarse strips of matting, and then the men who had been holding me down and sitting upon me, leapt up. I was able to breathe once more, and after some violent efforts I got into a sitting posture, and looked around the apartment.

The captain and the mate were, I saw, in the same position as myself. Their hands were tied behind them, and their bodies were completely enwound with rope made of fibrous matting. The way we had all been surprised reflected credit upon the smartness of the traitorous rajah and his army. The whole affair, from the instant the captain had shouted, seeing the men about to rush into the room, until we were secured, occupied less than three minutes. Six or seven men had flung themselves upon each of us; and yet it seemed to me as I looked around, that as many as twenty of these ruffians had received substantial tokens of our resistance. Noses were bleeding in every direction, and several of the strongest men were limping from the effects of the kicks we had dealt them in the course of the struggle. It was some consolation for us to know that if we were overcome we had had a fight for our liberty. Still the painful fact remained that we were in the power of these barbarians.

‘ What is the meaning of this? ’ I shouted to Merrick. The din in the place was so frightful that I could not catch his reply; but, from the expression on his face, I judged it to be pretty strong.

The captain was evidently making the same inquiry as mine from our ungracious host, who replied with considerable vehemence in his broken Dutch. As the room was now crowded to a point of suffocation by natives, both men and women, who kept up a chorus of yells at our appearance, and of sympathy for the guards whose noses we had broken, the captain could not possibly hear a word that the rajah said. The rajah at length seemed to perceive that his speech was being thrown away. With a yell he leaped to his feet, grasped his sword, and rushed at his faithful subjects. I never saw a room cleared in so short a space of time. The people seemed to go out in one solid mass, falling in a heap outside the entrance. They must have formed a pyramid outside 'considerably higher than the palace roof.

The rajah then resumed his speech to the captain, the drift of which I afterwards learned.

CHAPTER XXXV

OUR CAPTOR’S PROPOSALS.

TTHE rajah declared that we had insulted him on the previous day by leaving him without a formal farewell; that his subjects had complained loudly of being threatened with the revolver, and declared that we should all be killed. For his own part, the rajah said, he did not wish to kill us; but wc must consider ourselves his prisoners.

To this the captain replied that if we had committed any offence against the customs of the island we were very sorry; we had erred altogether through ignorance, he declared, and we were ready to make any reasonable amends for our mistake.

To this the rajah responded that he was willing to take this view of the matter, and he thought that the payment of a ransom of a thousand dollars a head for us would be reasonable, all things considered. He would accept this sum, provided that we also obtained for him an agreement from the Dutch governor of Sumbawa to take all the pepper that would be grown on the island during the next five years.

The captain said that we were Englishmen, not Dutchmen, and had therefore no power to make any representations to a Dutch governor; but if our ship were floated safely we would have no objection to pay a thousand dollars ransom for each of us, in whatever goods his highness might select from our cargo.

His highness begged to assure the captain that, according to the custom of the island, he claimed every ship that was cast ashore, so that if we wanted our ship, we must pay three thousand dollars ransom for her also. As for the excuse that we were not Dutchmen, and so could not promise anything on behalf of the Dutch governor, the rajah thought that this was nonsense. If the Dutch governor knew that we were prisoners and likely to remain so, he would certainly make the required agreement and pay the ransom.

‘ No,’ said the captain; ‘ he would do nothing of the sort. Besides, how could we reach the governor unless we were set free? ’

The rajah then said that he proposed to send one of us in a prahu, fully manned, to Sumbawa. Our condition and the terms for our release were to be stated to the governor, and he would then pay the ransom and send the agreement respecting the pepper back to the island.

At this proposal the captain was greatly inclined to jump: the Dutch had, he knew, at least three frigates in these waters, and on hearing that we were prisoners at this island the governor of Sumbawa would certainly despatch a gunboat to rescue us. The rajah, however, went on to say that unless the governor sent the money and the agreement back directly in the prahu, we should be carried to the interior of the island and left in the forests where no white men could follow us. If any other boat except the prahu were to appear in the anchorage, the same course would be adopted: we should be carried off to the forests in the interior.

This was the substance of the perfidious rajah’s proposal; and on hearing it, the captain begged permission to consult with us on the subject His request being granted, he told us all that had passed between him and the rajah, and asked us what was our opinion of the situation.

I scarcely knew what to say on the matter. I felt that the suggestion that the governor of Sumbawa should be appealed to was ridiculous; it would only have been made by some one as ignorant as this precious rajah. Even if we succeeded in obtaining the ransom, how could we hope to obtain the agreement that he wanted respecting his wretched pepper?

‘ I only wish we had our crew here with the rifles,’ said the mate. ' We’d teach these fellows a lesson of hospitality that they’d not be likely to forget.’

‘ No doubt,’ said the captain; ‘ but, you see, our men are not here and not likely to be anywhere except on Maori Island, poor fellows The question to be decided is what we should do under the present circumstances.’

‘ What about the ship and the five men aboard? ’ I asked. ‘ Don’t you fancy that they will take some steps to release us? ’

‘ I hope they are too wise to think of facing the natives,’ said the captain. ‘Yes, I’m sure they will confine themselves to keeping the ship. I believe they will succeed too. They have your gun and plenty of cartridges; and then you must remember that there are two brass cannon aboard the ship. Yes, if they are wise they will leave us to look after ourselves. But what are we to do? ’

' I’ll agree to anything, but I can suggest nothing,’ said I.

' I don’t see what we can do to help ourselves,’ said the mate.

‘ Nor I,’ said the captain. ‘ We’ve missed our stays and our ship’s in irons. We’ll have to agree to anything that’s proposed. But don’t you let it cross your mind that we won’t get the better of this scoundrel in the long run.’

CHAPTER XXXVI

WE ACCEPT THE TERMS.

THE rajah, on being made acquainted with our acceptance of the terms he offered, did not show himself to be either satisfied or the reverse. He simply nodded, and asked the captain which of us would go in the prahu on the mission to the governor of Sumbawa. The captain at once nodded in the direction of Mr. Merrick, telling the mate what was the meaning of this sign.

‘ All right,’ said Merrick. ‘ I’m ready for anything. If their rickety old craft comes to grief and I don’t return, I hope you won’t blame me. If anything short of a capsize happens, you may swear that I’ll return. But it does go to my heart to pay these fellows a single dollar.’

‘ Make up your mind that the money must be paid,’ said the captain; ‘ and, above all, do not try any plan to rescue us. Wait until wc are afloat in the ‘ Orion,’ and have got our own crew off Maori Island before you carry out any scheme against these fellows. If you bring a man-of-war here, you’ll never see us again. In a drunken fit this scoundrel might order us to be stuck over with poisoned arrows.’

‘ I’ll be cautious enough, never fear,’ said the mate. ‘I’ll take good care to do nothing that would spoil your chances. Only I do hope that the boatswain will be able to hold the ship.’

' He’ll do his best, you may be sure,’ said the captain.

‘ Perhaps,’ said I, ‘ you might hint that the position we are in just now, with our hands behind us, is not the pleasantest that could be imagined. We might surely be released now.’

The captain represented this to the rajah, but the latter declared that he would not release us until the prahu was ready to sail for the Dutch island. He made another allusion to the revolver that had been displayed on the previous day, and left the apartment at once, saying that he would return with a letter to the Dutch official.

All we could now do was to sit in the constrained position that we were in, and look at one another, perhaps for the last time.

In about an hour the rajah returned, bringing with him a letter written in Dutch—much to our amazement, for we believed him to be as illiterate as he was ignorant. We learned afterwards that our estimate of his powers was not too low. The letter was written by one of his subjects—an old man, who had lived for some years at Batavia, and had made some progress in reading and writing.

We did not, however, become aware of this for some time; so that when he handed the captain the missive, we believed that we were not in the presence of an utter barbarian.

He explained to the captain that the letter stated the quantity of pepper which was annually grown at the island, and showed the Dutch governor that the loss sustained through no ship having called to take a cargo of the commodity amounted to the three thousand dollars which was now demanded as our ransom.

The rajah then left us once more, returning after some time to say that the prahu was now ready to sail for the island.

We were all greatly surprised at this news. We were under the impression that some days would be allowed to pass before the attempt would be made to sail in the prahu for the island of Sumbawa, which we knew must lie nearly two hundred miles to the south. Such haste was not in keeping with the ideas we had formed of the native system.

‘ I’m quite ready,’ said Merrick. ‘ If the boat has been advertised to start at a particular hour, I won’t let it be said that it was kept back on my account.’

‘ Good-bye, old fellow,’ said the captain. ‘ You’ll do your best for us, I’m sure. Above all things, you’ll keep your temper with these fellows until we can see our way out of this scrape.’

‘ Don’t fear for me, sir,’ replied the mate, ‘ I’ll not say “ Good-bye,” but only “ So long.” ’

By this time the room was filled with the rajah’s guards, carrying spears and bows. At a signal from the rajah one of the men stepped up to me and removed my revolver from my breast-pocket, taking it out of the room altogether. Then the bindings of our arms were cut, but not those of our legs, and food was brought to us in the usual earthen vessels. The rajah begged us to eat, and I had no rooted prejudice against doing so, for I had scarcely tasted a morsel in the morning; but my hands and arms were so stiff it was some time before I could help myself to the rice and fish—the stewed pepper I carefully avoided. I saw no reason why I should add to the horror of my situation by devouring pepper-pods.

As I looked at my swollen wrists and felt that somehow my arms had become dislodged in their sockets, I had an almost uncontrollable desire to make the attempt to exercise my muscles upon the treacherous rajah. I looked toward him and my fingers unconsciously closed.

The captain must have seen this, and had his suspicions that I was not to be trusted.

‘Mr. Mostyn, Mr. Mostyn, I don’t like to see your hands doubled up like that,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Remember that all depends upon your keeping cool.’

‘Cool—cool!’ said I. ‘Yes, I’ll keep cool now; but I’ll make that pepper-growing scoundrel sorry some day that his scheme against us succeeded as it has done.’

‘ Right you are,’ said Merrick. ' I only wish I had an interview with him alone for about ten minutes. I’d pulverise him—I’d grind him into finer dust than his finest pepper. Never mind! our day will come. It’s not in the nature of things that the Union Jack should be danced upon by savages in this fashion.’

After our meal we were all bound once more; but Merrick’s legs were freed. He was helped upon his feet, a couple of spearmen standing on either side of him, and two others with lowered weapons in the entrance; these precautions being taken lest he should make any attempt to escape.

I must confess that I fully expected to be released with the mate. I remarked as much to the captain; but he shook his head and said that the rajah was paying us a very high compliment in keeping us bound. We had shown him a few hours before that we were dangerous, even when attacked by twenty or thirty men, and he could not be blamed for keeping us secure when he had the chance.

‘ Well,’ said Merrick, with an affectation of carelessness, ‘ well, I’m off. I hope I’ll find you all right when I’m moored here again. If—if anything should happen, captain—any accident, you know—just drop a line to the old people: you have the address.’

The captain nodded.

' We’ll meet again, never fear,’ said he.

‘We shall, captain; and won’t we just have a shy at these rascals! They’ll not put a freeborn Englishman in irons in a hurry again.’

He marched out between the guards with his teeth set. I could not but acknowledge that they were quite prudent in keeping his hands bound.

The captain begged permission to see the prahu in which our friend was about to embark, but the rajah refused, on the ground that the guards distrusted us, and that some of them might run a spear into us in the excitement of the moment.

There was nothing left for us to do but to lie looking into one another’s faces, while the rajah sat at some distance smoking some tobacco-leaves rolled up in the shape of a cheroot, and pondering, no doubt, upon some new scheme for getting rid of his pepper.

‘ All that I hope,’ said the captain to me in a whisper, ‘ is that those aboard the ship will make themselves snug, and not think of rescuing us. I believe that they can hold the ship, but if they come ashore they must be killed to a man.’

‘ Are we to remain bound for the next fortnight or so, until the money comes from that Dutchman? ’ I inquired. Though the strips of matting did not bite into my flesh, still I felt that behind my back was not the natural place for my hands, and I felt awkward about the elbows.

The captain asked our host, who should now be called our gaoler, when it would please him to loose us, but the only reply he got was a solemn shake of the head.

I could not bring myself to think such treatment satisfactory.

CHAPTER XXXVII

WE ARE LEFT TO OUR OWN DEVICES.

AFTER about an hour’s waiting in silence in the presence of the rajah, a number of the guards returned, evidently in a state of consternation—indeed it might almost be said that they burst into the royal apartment. They made no obeisance to the rajah, and, of course, none to us; but as we did not look for any such token of respect, we were not disappointed when it was not forthcoming. One of them addressed a few words to the rajah, and in an instant the latter started to his feet, dropping the end of his imitation cheroot, which continued burning away on the edge of the platform. He put some questions eagerly to the chief of the guards, who had just entered—the one who had acted as spokesman for the others—and on receiving a reply, he looked towards the captain and myself in anything but an amiable way. He stamped about fiercely for awhile, then, as if a sudden and particularly happy thought had struck him, he made a rush for his sword of state, which he had left in a corner on squatting down for breakfast, or whatever the unsavouiy meal should be called. He caught up the sword. The chief of the guards thought it advisable to make a move toward the entrance to the apartment; he evidently thought that it would be well to be prepared for any accident that might happen. It was clear to us that he had not unlimited confidence in the self-control of the raging rajah.

No doubt the guard had good reasons for his mistrust of his royal master, and his move to the entrance was suggested by prudence. But what should the captain and I do under the circumstances ? If the guard had great reasons for avoiding the wrath of the rajah, how much greater reasons had we for fearing his violence? We could not follow the example that had been shown us, and get conveniently close to the entrance in case of an outburst on the part of our gaoler.

When he snatched up his sword I thought our last hour had come. It appeared, however, that his cupidity got the better of his temper. He made a rush at us with the bare weapon, but did not bring it down upon us. He only flourished it fiercely before our faces, shouting something that was probably an insult; but not understanding its import, we did not feel particularly hurt by it; even if we had understood it, I am sure that we would have preferred it to the sabre stroke that threatened us. We did not give the rtful rajah credit for his clemency. It was our opinion that he only refrained from murdering us because of the impossibility of his obtaining the ransom, should he adopt such a course. He perceived, however, that he might insult us now without the success of the negotiations for our release and for the disposal of his pepper being jeopardised.

After his demonstration with the sword of state in front of us, he made a rush at the chief of the guards. That officer was, however, not unprepared for his royal master’s movement; he adroitly sprang through the doorway, leaving the mats waving behind him.

The rajah did not follow immediately, but quickly buckled his sword-belt under his arm-pits, and looked about for the embroidered teapot-cosy which he was accustomed to wear as a substitute for the cocked hat of a general. Having found this indispensable article of headgear, he gave a glance towards us, and left the palace, savagely kicking aside the hanging mats.

‘ What can be the meaning of all this? ’ said the captain.

‘ The guards evidently brought him some piece of news that he did not regard as altogether agreeable,’ I replied. ‘ It struck him at first that he could not do better than express his feelings in the most forcible way to us; but when he was about to carry out his idea, it occurred to him that he could not well claim the ransom if Merrick was to return with the three thousand dollars only to find our dead bodies.’

‘ I agree with you so far,’ said the captain; ‘ but what I should like to know is what was the news that was brought to him by the guard, and that called for his outbreak of temper? ’

‘ Can it be that Merrick has escaped? ’ I suggested.

‘ Not likely,’ he replied. ‘ In the first place, he could have had no chance of escape; and in the second place, he would have nothing to gain, and a great deal to lose, by such an attempt. Even if he were to get free, we should not be benefited by the act; on the contrary, our position here would be more dangerous, and we should be kept in even stricter confinement than that we arc in at present, if indeed the rajah did not immediately carry out his threat of sending us to the forests of the interior of the island, where we should have to remain for an indefinite period. All this Merrick knows perfectly well, and would, consequently, not be so foolish as to try and escape merely for the sake of saving himself in the simplest way possible.’

' I don’t suppose that his position aboard the stranded ship would be any better than ours in this place,’ I remarked.

The captain shook his head.

‘ If Merrick were only aboard I believe he could hold the ship against all comers,’ he said. ‘What they need aboard is an officer to take charge of them. The boatswain is a good fellow and a first-class seaman; though I’m not so confident in his capacity to take command of the deck in case of the ship being boarded by the natives. But what I fear most is that he will not be discreet enough to remain aboard at all hazards. If, when we do not return to the ship, he becomes anxious, and ventures ashore in search of us, I’m afraid his chances of escape, and ours too, will be but small.’

‘ I don’t think we need doubt his discretion,’ said I. ‘ The boatswain will see how matters stand when we do not turn up in good time aboard the ship. But you must not forget that we have not yet accounted for the rajah’s outburst.’

‘ After all, it may not have had reference to ourselves,’ said the captain. ‘ It may have been the result of some disagreeable news of a purely personal character.’

‘ But why, then, should he have taken the trouble to menace us, after hearing the news, whatever it was? ’

‘ That I can’t tell,’ replied the captain. ‘ Only, I have noticed—and I dare say you have done the same—that, when a man is accustomed to give way to his temper, he generally vents his wrath upon the people or the things that are nearest to him at the moment. Now, we were quite handy to the rajah, and we are not, I think you will admit, in a position to retaliate. His practised eye at once saw the advantage of making us the objects of his wrath, and so—’

His sentence was broken off abruptly, for there came to our ears the sound of a shot at apparently no great distance from the palace.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

THE ONLY DEVICE LEFT TO US.

HE captain looked silently into my face. I returned his glance inquiringly.

‘What I feared all along has happened,’ he said in a low voice. ‘ The men have left the ship and have come in search of us—this is the news that upset the rajah.’

‘ And they have come in contact with the natives? ’

‘ Quite so; and the boatswain with his men will be cut off before they can get aboard again.’

‘ That shot came from him. You may be sure that the ship will not be captured without a struggle.’

The captain shook his head once more.

' I should be sure of that, provided I knew that there would be anyone aboard the ship to defend it. But supposing the crew are cut off in their retreat to the ship? ’

‘ We must hope for the best,’ said I.

‘ Mr. Mostyn,’ cried he, after a short pause, that was filled up by the faint sounds of shouting, coming apparently from a considerable distance. ‘ Mr. Mostyn, we must free ourselves somehow— we really must.’

‘ Somehow? ’ said I. ‘Yes, I quite agree with you that we should free ourselves at the earliest possible moment, but to say “ somehow " is rather vague. I would ask you how we are to free ourselves? ’

His eyes wandered restlessly over every object in the apartment. It was not a great strain upon the sight to take in everything that was in view. The walls were completely bare, so was the floor, and so were the slightly raised boards upon which our captor had been seated. No single object was lying about that could aid us in severing our bonds, only—why should the captain keep his eyes fixed upon the end of the cheroot that the rajah had thrown away? I saw the captain gazing at this intently, and, following his example, I noticed that the tobacco was still alight. Though fully five minutes had elapsed since it had left the rajah’s lips, the cheroot had not yet become extinguished. A delicate curl of light grey smoke arose from the smouldering end at one side of where we were sitting.

‘ We have a chance,’ said the captain in a low voice. ‘ It is only a small chance, but still it is worth taking into account in our desperate condition. The cheroot is still alight.’

‘ I notice that. Your idea is to bring the lighted end in contact with the dry strips of matting that bind us? ’

‘A chance—it is only a chance. Don’t let your hopes rise over much.’

‘You needn’t fear for me.’

In a moment the captain took in our situation in respect to the burning cheroot-end. He did not think it necessary to make any explanation to me of what he intended doing; indeed, none was necessary. I saw that there was no possibility of the cheroot being brought to either of us, so that there was nothing left but for one of us to go to the cheroot—somehow.

Our bodies were enwound about a dozen times with the tough strips of fibre, that seemed like the broadest leathern bands. But I knew that the strength of our bondage was not increased by the number of times it encircled our bodies and our wrists. The strength of a cable is simply the strength of its weakest link; the security of our bondage depended on the strength of every band that went about us. If we only succeeded in cutting or burning through the fibre at one place, we should be free.

The captain, with some difficulty, but really not so much as might be imagined, considering the way in which he was tied, managed to work along the floor toward the cheroot in a wriggling fashion, which, I have no doubt, would have seemed very comical to a disinterested spectator, but which certainly did not seem so to me at the time. He worked his way along the rough boards by quick jerks, until he was opposite the raised platform upon which the smouldering object was lying. It had fallen with the lighted end partly over the edge of the platform—a fact that helped to account for the length of time it remained unextinguished. I saw, however, and I am sure that the captain did so too, that the accidental position of the cheroot, though favourable to our project in one respect, made it doubly hazardous in another. If the captain could but turn his body so as to bring one of the woven bands in contact with the burning tobacco leaf, it was quite likely that his enterprise would be successful; but then, the slightest additional pressure upon the end would cause the cheroot to overbalance itself, and, as it would assuredly fall quite close to the base of the little platform, there would be no chance of its becoming available for a second attempt.

Under these circumstances it is scarcely necessary to say that I watched with a good deal of eagerness, the captain’s operations.

Before he had reached the position which was necessary for him to take up, I perceived that I might be able to assist the carrying out of his purpose. Adopting his mode of progression, I jerked myself forward until I was beside him.

‘ If the thing is to operate properly we must give it every chance,’ said I.

‘ What do you mean to do? ’ he asked.

‘ I can’t do very much, I am sorry to say,’ I replied; ‘ but the thought has struek me that if I were to breathe upon the smouldering end when you have brought the fibre in contact with it, its effect would be greatly increased.’

‘ Quite right. Stand by.’

I could not, unfortunately, carry out this order literally, but I ‘ stood by' in the sense in which he used the words. I leant over the platform and began to ‘ coax' the little spark of smouldering flame as one ‘ coaxes ’ a little fire in an ordinary grate when it does not show a tendency to become a blaze. I was delighted to find that this trifling operation was so successful. By the aid of sundry delicate puffs the spark of light began to glow, and soon overspread the entire surface at the end of the cheroot when the ash was blown away.

‘ Now,’ said I, when the glow was brightest— ‘ Now is your time. Lean back gently against my shoulder, and I shall prevent your coming in contact too violently with the thing.’

The operation, for the reasons already stated, was a somewhat delicate one. But just as we were at the point of commencing it, there came the sound of another shot; not the discharge of my gun, however, but of a cannon.

‘ I guessed as much,’ said the captain. ‘ The natives are making an attempt to board the ship, and the boatswain is keeping them off by the brass cannon. We’ll hear another shot presently, you’ll find.’

He was not astray in his prediction. We paused, breathless, for a minute, and then once more there came to our ears the same loud report, and this time it was followed by the yells of the natives. It was plain that the second of the two brass cannon had just been discharged, and with, as it appeared, more disastrous effects, so far as the natives were concerned, than the first shot.

‘ Come, Mr. Mostyn, look alive! ’ cried the captain suddenly, after the sound of the distant yells had died away. ‘ If we don’t manage this business at once we’ll have a bad chance of getting clear another time. Ease me away so that the narrowest bit of the band between my elbow and my ribs comes against the point of the fire.’

I did ‘ ease him away ’ as, in sailor language, he had asked me. The portion of the band of fibre to which he alluded was very taut, so that it should part easily when touched with the fire; but it was not exactly in the right position for our experiment. A single jerk, however, and it was, I could see, in the right place. I lowered my shoulder, which served as a prop for the captain’s back, and the taut fibre was brought in contact with the end of the burning cheroot. It gave no indication of parting, however, though I kept it touching the burning end, holding my breath for fear of shaking down the cheroot.

I was wrong to hold my breath, for what the fire needed was more coaxing.

I ventured to blow gently upon the end of the tobacco leaf. The effect was immediate. The dry fibre was like paper in contact with the spark. It began to smoke in an instant, and then gradually to part, as the fire made its way through the broad band. Before it had been burnt more than half-way across the band snapped asunder. I prised, so to speak, the captain into a sitting posture once more, and with my teeth quickly unwound the band, dragging it from beneath his arms. In a few minutes his hands were free.

He made good use of them, though they must, have been very stiff. He stripped the lashings off his legs, and once more all his limbs were unbound. He got upon his feet, though not without difficulty, and looked around for the means of freeing me. No blade of any sort was in the apartment. There was nothing for it but to loose the knots. He perceived this fact, and was about to kneel behind me to make an attack upon the knots, when there came to our ears the sound of native shouting; and it became clearer every moment, telling us that a party was approaching the palace.

' Make a bolt for it,’ I cried. ‘ They need you aboard the ship; I’ll be all right here: they will be afraid to harm me. The rajah is too anxious to get the ransom.’

The captain rushed to the entrance and looked out between the swinging mats.

' I’d have no chance even if I were to be such a coward as to desert you,’ he replied, letting the end of the mat drop from his hand. ‘I should have a dozen spears through me before I could take as many steps. No, my boy; we’ve failed this time, and we’ll take our failure like men.’

He returned to the centre of the apartment and seated himself beside me.

In another instant the rajah and his guards burst into the place.

CHAPTER XXXIX

THE ARTFUL RAJAH.

NOT for some minutes did the rajah become aware that the captain was no longer bound. He shouted out some command to the chief of the guards, keeping as close as possible to the entrance to the palace all the time. He had apparently no desire to face the captain when the latter was free. A dozen of the men pointed their spears at the captain, and as many more stood by with their arrow tubes, while fresh coils of stouter fibre were brought and bound about the captain, who offered no resistance to the carrying out of the operation.

The rajah seemed once more to breathe easily. He was, beyond doubt, greatly amazed to find the captain freed from his previous bonds. He addressed a long speech to the captain in his broken Dutch, and as he spoke he appeared to become more excited. Suddenly, however, he called out something to the chief of the guards, and stalked out through the mats at the entrance. The guards held their spears in readiness to meet us, should we make the attempt to break through their ranks. They paid quite an unnecessary compliment to our courage and capacity.

‘ What had the fellow to say? ’ I inquired of the captain.

‘ He told me all that has just occurred outside,’ replied the captain. ‘ It appears that the boatswain and another man from the ship came ashore in search of us. They made signs to the natives, asking where we were, and they fired a shot—to let us know they were near us, I suppose. When the rajah went out to them they were prudent enough to keep him at a distance while they retreated to the ship. The rajah must then, I fancy, have ordered an attack to be made upon the ship; but, in any case, it was not a success. The rajah could only say that the state prahu was sunk and several men killed.’

‘ Bravo! ’ cried I. ‘ That is good news indeed.’

' He was very anxious to know how I freed myself, but I did not think it necessary to inform him,’ continued the captain.

' But what does he mean to do with us now? ’

‘ I can’t tell. He left the palace to carry out some plan which he says will keep us safely until Merrick’s return.’

‘ I’ll welcome any plan that will take us out of this place,’ said I. ‘ It’s a perfect pandemonium.’

The atmosphere of the palace was by this time reeking, for this seemed to be regarded as the assembly-room of the village. Men, women, and children congregated here without obstruction; the result being an atmosphere compared' with which the black-hole of Calcutta would have seemed fragrant. I cannot even now think how I got through the evening in that den; nor can I explain how it was I succeeded in falling asleep as I did, in spite of the din of chattering and yelling that went on around us.

Still the fact remains that I fell asleep, and did not awake until I was at the point of being choked. The room was no longer crowded, for the night had come. On either side of the entrance stood a native, bearing aloft a lighted torch made of sandalwood dipped in some resinous matter, the fumes of which were almost insupportable. The smoke had got into my throat and threatened to suffocate me. The captain was similarly inconvenienced, I could see. He was coughing and spluttering in the same way, making frantic signs to the torch-bearers to take themselves away. They paid no attention whatever to him, but stood there like black marble statues, with the light gleaming fitfully upon the oiled and polished skin of their bodies.

Just when I fancied that I could stand the suffocating smoke no longer, there was a commotion outside. The rajah entered, and spoke some words to the captain, at which the latter seemed greatly surprised.

‘ He says that we are to leave this place altogether,’ said the captain to me.

‘ I’ll not object,’ I answered. ‘ I’m at the point of suffocation.’

‘ Yes; but he says we’re to leave the island in one of his prahus without a moment’s delay, as the men aboard the “ Great Orion ” won’t let him take possession of the ship.’

‘ Bravo! ’ cried I; ‘ they are good fellows! ’

‘The rajah declares that he is afraid that the crew will try to rescue us, and we must therefore allow ourselves to be brought to a safe place.’

The rajah at this point broke out in another rage, and went stamping up and down the floor of the palace, waving his sword more wildly than he had yet done. I felt certain that this time he meant mischief, and that he would wind up his series of promenades by slashing us to death with his sword.

Fortunately he stopped short at this point. He faced the captain, saying something else in his broken Dutch.

‘ What does he mean? ’ I inquired anxiously.

‘ He’s an artful scoundrel,’ said the captain. ‘ He says he is about to ship us off to another island where no boat but his own prahu can land, and we are to be kept there until he receives the amount of the ransom. If Merrick returns here with an army to try and rescue us without paying the ransom, we shall be left alone on this place that he talks of, all our lives. He wants us to write a letter telling Merrick this, so that if he comes here hoping to rescue us by force, he may learn how matters stand.’

‘ The cunning ruffian! ’ cried I. ‘ We’ll not leave such a letter for Merrick. We’ll let him demolish the whole place, and we’ll trust to luck to get clear of wherever the rajah is going to send us.’

‘ If you are willing to agree to that, I’ll do it without hesitation. Do you agree? ’

‘ I agree with all my heart,’ I shouted.

The captain then told the rajah that we were prepared to write the letter for Merrick to get on his return to the island. In a few minutes a man entered whom we had not seen before. He was evidently a Malay. He wore trousers and a long frock coat, of perhaps the same age as himself. His hair and beard were white as snow. He carried a sheet of soiled paper in one hand, a tall stone ink-jar in the other, and behind his ear was a pen, made out of the quill of some large bird. He bowed to us on entering, and addressed the captain in Dutch, handing him the paper and laying down the ink-jar ‘ This is the secret of the rajah’s cleverness,’ said the captain: ‘ this fellow is his Prime Minister, and Chancellor of the Exchequer too, I’ve no doubt. He says he has lived among the Dutch at Sumatra nearly all his life.’

‘We’ll not forget him when our day comes,’ said I.

The captain’s bondage was then cut, and he wrote the following letter on the soiled paper:—

‘ DEAR MERRICK,—The old hound thinks you mean to try and rescue us without paying the ransom. Don’t disappoint him in this. If you have a boat’s crew with you, you’ll know what to do. Please yourself—I need make no suggestion. Get the ship afloat if you can, by passing a hawser to the opposite rocks. Then make for Maori Island—you know the bearings. Take Borrows and the crew aboard—all except Sliddell; you’ll have to find him out. Don’t mind about us. We’ll shift for ourselves, don’t you be afraid. God bless you!

‘JONAS HARWOOD.

‘ P.S.—Don’t forget that the rajah is fond of pepper. Give him plenty of it.’

The captain passed the letter to me to read. ‘ Nothing could be better,’ said I. ‘ I’m glad you added that line about the pepper.’

‘ It will do for the rajah,’ said the captain, as he returned the paper to the old Malay, who bowed politely as before, and, holding the letter under one of the torches, pretended to read it carefully, after first putting on an immense pair of spectacles with round glasses. It seemed perfectly satisfactory to him.

The rajah then gave the signal to his guards; they brought a long roll of the matting strips joined together, and once more bound down the captain’s arms to his sides. Then they cut the bonds from our legs and assisted us to our feet. They need not have been afraid lest we should run away: our limbs were so stiff that we could walk only with difficulty—running was out of the question altogether.

With a dozen spearmen on either side, their weapons uncomfortably close to our faces, we were marched out

CHAPTER XL

A GREAT SURPRISE.

IT was delightful to me, coming out of that stifling den, to feel the cool night air upon my face. The night was moonless, but the tropical stars were burning overhead, making every object within view as clear as by day. A light breeze was blowing upon our faces, bearing the perfume of the spice forests about us. And then from the distance floated the sound of the waves breaking upon the coast.

We were marched down to a part of the beach we had not seen before. It was evidently a long way from where the ‘ Great Orion ’ had been stranded. By the light of the stars we saw a very large prahu, built after the pattern of a Chinese junk, riding close to the shore.

The rajah had led the procession down to the beach, and he now busied himself arranging for the embarkation of our party, every now and again stopping to give directions to the native who, we could see, was placed in command of the expedition. He was the best-made man we had yet seen on the island; but the way he beat, with the stout bamboo he carried, the smaller men who were wading out with paddles and supplies of rice and dried fish, made us believe that he was as cruel as the worst of the savages in the place.

The prahu drew so little water, it could be brought quite close to the steep beach. The crew, being altogether without clothing, waded out, and climbed up the sides like monkeys. We declined to wade, so, by the rajah’s instructions, we were hoisted upon the shoulders of half-a-dozen natives, and in this way borne out to the prahu. We were lifted over the side by a number of the crew, for our arms were not yet freed; and the head-man of the prahu pointed to the poop, which rose, like one of the old ship-castles, high into the air. This poop was divided into three decks. To the middle one of these we were consigned without a word; and as soon as we had entered, a number of bamboos were placed close together between the lower deck and the upper, thus enclosing us in a sort of cage. Outside, the guards stood in a double row; so that we did not get much air. Before long we heard the sounds of the paddles, and then the hoisting of a boom. We were under weigh, and running before the wind, and so crank was the craft, that, though about forty men were aboard, she seemed to skim the water.

‘ I hope the place they are taking us to is not far off,’ said the captain. ‘ I should not care to be cooped up in this hole for many days.’

‘ They can’t mean us to remain with our arms bound to our sides like this,’ said I. ‘ Why, it would be better for us to kick out one of the timbers and go to the bottom at once than suffer this sort of thing for any length of time.’

' My dear friend,’ said the captain gravely, ‘ we are brave enough to suffer anything before those wretches. It would be cowardly to make any attempt to put an end to our sufferings. Don’t you fear but that our time will come. There’s a providence in everything that happens. This I have always believed, and, please God, I shall always believe so.’

When about an hour had passed, and we must have sailed five or six miles from shore, the bamboos at the entrance to our cabin—I call it a cabin because I don’t like to call it a cage—were removed. The stout head-man of the prahu crept in with a knife in his hand. He shouted out some order to us in his own language, which of course we did not understand. Finding that we did not obey him, he caught me by the shoulder roughly and twisted me round as I lay on the boards. He raised the knife—I thought my last moment had come; but he only severed the bonds of my arms. He performed the same operation upon the captain. Then, making a menace with his knife, pointing to the entrance, he gave us clearly to understand that any attempt we might make to escape would be attended by disagreeable consequences. He then shouted to one of the men outside, and a large dish of half-baked rice was brought to him. The brutal fellow emptied the contents of the dish upon the deck, and then left us, taking with him the earthen dish. In another minute we heard the guards once more lashing the bamboos across the entrance.

‘ That’s an additional mark against the name of our friend outside,’ said the captain. ‘ It’s bad enough to be treated as felons, but to be gratuitously insulted—to be treated like a wild animal is —is—well, I’ll explain to him what it is some of these days.’

‘ I wish that the time for this explanation was come,’ I remarked.

We succeeded in getting some sleep that night, and consequently felt refreshed when the morning came and the sea air was forced through the bamboos. Our guards were squatted on the deck, just in front of the bars of our cage, devouring their breakfast of rice and sweet potatoes, chattering all the while between the mouthfuls. We could see them through a chink between the bamboos, and we could also see that the large sail was set.

The captain urged me to join him in eating some of the rice that lay in a heap upon the deck. I did not feel hungry, but in order to gratify him I forced myself to swallow a few handfuls. In a corner far astern we found a calabash containing water—horrid stuff that had remained in the vessel for perhaps weeks, but very grateful to our lips, that had become parched by our sufferings.

After this frugal breakfast we talked together for a long time, discussing the probabilities of the second mate returning to the rajah’s island with the ransom. The captain was strongly of the belief that the Dutch official would not take any trouble in the matter. Only, if a gunboat were available, it might be dispatched to the island to shell the village, for the sake of giving the gunners some practice. Perhaps, too, the gunboat would help to tow the ship off the beach, the captain thought. All his thoughts ran in the same channel—how would the ship be got afloat again? If the boatswain only succeeded in holding the ship against the natives, and if she were eventually got off, the crew at Maori Island would certainly be picked up, if—

‘ There are too many ifs about the whole affair,’ said I with a laugh, as the captain gave me his ideas of the situation. ‘ It strikes me that the less we think of the probabilities of the ship ever being floated, and of our ever seeing her afloat, the less disappointed we shall be in the long-run.’

‘ Perhaps so,’ said the captain; ‘ but I have known stranger things happen in the course of my twenty years at sea.’

‘Tell me some of them,’ said I; ‘it will help to make the time pass.’

For the next three hours I was entertained with stories of adventure in every quarter of the globe. My companion in trouble had been on more than one Arctic voyage, and as he described the terrors of the frost I felt refreshed, and the cage we were in seemed less stuffy.

The effect of his series of stories was to make me feel that as he had come through so many dangers, he would also survive the present disaster, in which I was his partner.

In spite of the captain’s entertainment, however, this day seemed to me the longest I had ever spent. When evening came, it appeared to me as if we had passed weeks in our caged cabin. It was some consolation to be able to sleep, and I certainly slept well.

In the morning I found the captain awake. He said he had slept indifferently. The atmosphere of the place where we lay was terrible. The recollection of it even now is insupportable. Fortunately, a little after sunrise, the bamboos were once again removed, and the head-man entered with another basin of cooked rice, which he emptied as before on the deck.

The captain showed him the calabash and made signs that we needed some more water. The fellow took the calabash, emptied it of the few spoonfuls that remained, then, with a grin, flung the calabash across the deck outside. A yell of laughter arose; then saying a few words to us in the native tongue, the man left us alone. The bamboos were lashed down securely as before, only I noticed that a much larger space was left between some of the rods. How thankful we were for this means of breathing comparatively fresh air it would be impossible to tell. We actually laughed with joy as we put our faces to this opening of about two inches in width; but we took care that our laughter was not overheard by the crew.

This day neither the captain nor I could touch the rice that had been flung to us. The captain, however, insisted on my telling him all the college stories I could think of, in exchange for his adventures that he had narrated to me the day before. I had no idea that I had such a store of stories. I had enough to keep my companion amused for several hours.

When we calculated that the sun should be pretty far down in the west, a great commotion took place among the crew on deck. We heard them yelling, and clapping their paddles together. We were, of course, very anxious to know what was meant by this demonstration, but the guards were standing with their backs to every division between the bamboos, and we consequently could not see out. The backs of the black guards— perhaps I should write the two words as one— were not expressive. We were forced to remain in ignorance on the matter.

The commotion soon subsided, and nothing was heard but the uneven strokes of the thirty paddles. Not until more than two hours had passed did the guards squat themselves on the deck, giving us a chance of looking out. The captain called my attention to the fact that we might now see what had caused the commotion.

‘ What’s the good of looking out now? ’ said I.

Whatever it was caused the row, it’s now past.’ ‘Well, I’ll just take an observation on the sly,’ said he, getting to his feet, but stooping, so that his head did not come in contact with the roof. He went cautiously forward to the space between the bamboos, and looked out. The instant he did so he gave a start, and a whispered exclamation. He put his face forward again, then turned slowly away.

I had raised myself on my hand when I noticed him give that start.

‘ What on earth have you seen? ’ I cried.

‘ Hush,’ he whispered;' don’t let your voice be heard—don’t shout out with surprise when I tell you what I have seen.’

‘ What have you seen? Don’t fear for me—I’ll not reveal the mystery to any human being.’

‘ What I have seen, my boy, is this: land is in sight—not more than two sea miles ahead—and that land is neither more nor less than Maori Island. Now didn’t you promise me not to turn a hair when I would tell you? and there you go, jumping up like mad. Sit down quietly again; we’re not safe yet.’

CHAPTER XLI

OUR TURN COMES AT LAST.

THERE could be no doubt about the matter. The prahu was being steered straight for Maori Island. I crawled to our loophole of observation, and, looking out, recognised in an instant all the old landmarks—the headland, the reef, the long barren shore. We were on our way to the island where eleven men of our own crew, armed with heavy rifles, were living. The rajah’s cunning had overreached itself. He was evidently acquainted with Maori Island, and having, of course, no idea that we had just left it under remarkable circumstances, to land upon his inhospitable coast, he fancied that we could not be sent to a more secure prison.

‘ If Borrows hasn’t taken it into his head to come off in one of the boats in search of us, we’ll be by the side of the crew in a couple of hours,’ said the captain.

‘ Borrows is not such a fool as to go in search of any ship,’ said I. ‘ Ships don’t stay in one place, so they are hard to find; islands do, however—unless perhaps in the Straits of Sunda—so they are easily found. Borrows is waiting for us.’

‘ Caution, my boy; caution is the word now,’ said the captain. ‘ A single suspicion—a single false step—and we lose all. If we show the least eagerness to land, that head-man will suspect something. If we show any sign of running away, he’ll send a spear through us. Caution is the word.’

‘ I’ll do my best,’ I replied. ‘ We’ll not be ashore for a couple of hours, and I’ll be quite cool till then.’

‘ Don’t do anything until we see how matters turn out. We needn’t think of any plan of action now. We’ll be guided altogether by circumstances.’

‘ I’ll wait till you give me the sign. I’ll keep well in the background, and invent no plan oi escape.’

‘ If they catch sight of any of our crew they’ll probably sheer off. In that case don’t stir, if aboard this craft If ashore, and with our arms and legs free, we’ll have to make a dash for it. Grab the nearest spear and run it through the nearest man; then rush for the woods, hallooing to our men. In any case I’ll give the sign.’

We said nothing more; but every now and again we looked out between the bamboos to note the progress of the prahu. It was clear that the passage between the reef and the headland was known to the man who was at the steering oar, for the bows were directed toward the channel.

In a short time the prahu was dancing over the eddy from the breakers, and then gliding gently along through the smooth waters within the reef. There were no rollers on this evening ; the water was smoother than I had ever seen it.

Before we had sailed more than about a mile along the coast, darkness had come on. Still the paddles continued hard at work; and in less than half an hour I knew by the tone of the echoes that the entrance to Orion Bay was reached. The only question that now remained was this: Would the prahu be sailed on so far as our recent anchorage, where the two boats would probably now be found drawn up, or would it be run upon the sand nearer the entrance?

The answer soon came. We felt the bows of the prahu grate upon the sand, and heard the headman giving his orders and backing them up with blows from his bamboo on the heads of his unfortunate crew. They did not seem to mind, however, but tumbled ashore laughing and yelling. The light prahu was then, in spite of its great size, dragged several yards out of the water, this operation being performed without any consideration for the feelings of the two prisoners who were cooped up in the cabin.

We were allowed to lie in our cage for at least another hour in total darkness; for the crew of the prahu were too busy feasting ashore to have time to think of us. We hoped they would long remain so. We did not feel in the least hurt by their neglect.

We had no idea what they intended doing with us. Were their instructions simply to keep us in bondage until news reached them that the ransom was paid? We could not tell.

At the end of about an hour the din on shore seemed to become less. The paddle men, who had been working without cessation for nearly forty-eight hours, were probably indulging in a few hours’ sleep. Not so the head-man, however; he was much too good an officer to allow himself this luxury. We heard him shouting to the guards once more, and then clambering over the bows of the prahu.

‘ They’ll not bind us again,’ I muttered through my set teeth.

‘Yes, yes, let them do it,’ said the captain. ‘ Let them bind you—both of us. I have a plan— trust to me.’

The head-man and four guards came aft. They carried their spears as usual, and when they came closer we saw that the head-man had several lengths of matting over his arm. He removed the bamboos and shouted to us. Of course we did not know what he meant. With an exclamation of impatience he caught me by the collar and pulled me out upon the deck.

‘ Keep your temper, my lad,’ said the captain. ‘ Give him plenty of rope—he’s winding it round his own neck.’

‘ He’s winding it round my arms just now,’ I replied, forcing a laugh, to try and show the captain that I was not boiling over with rage.

‘ Good man! ’ was the encouraging reply. ‘ Keep your head on that course.’

I allowed my arms to be bound as before by the head-man. The captain’s turn came next. I watched the thick bands being twisted round him and tied in a knot; the head-man cutting off the ends and returning the knife to his girdle. Signs were made for us to walk to the bows. We obeyed, and jumped after our guards from the slope of the bows to the sand—no easy task, considering how cramped our legs were.

A short consultation took place between the head-man and the guards, the former pointing to the nearest clump of trees, which was about a quarter of a mile away, and up the slope of the hill. Three of the guards threw themselves on the ground where their friends were sleeping. The head-man stamped on the ground in a fury, but they only settled themselves to sleep. With what sounded very like the native equivalent to an oath, he then shouted to the remaining man of the guard, who, being very young, was apparently more tractable. Then, giving us a push, he pointed to the clump of palms.

We now saw what he meant to do with us. Hanging from his arm were several coils of manilla rope. We were to be kept securely by being tied to the trees.

We trudged on up the uneven way toward the trees, like two convicts with a warder on either side.

‘ Keep your eye on me, my lad,’ whispered the captain. ‘You’ll have to act in a minute.’

‘ All right,’ I replied; ‘ the sooner the better.’

Wc reached the clump. The trees were cocoa-nut palms.

The head-man selected one and forced me backward against it. He uncoiled his rope and passed it round my body and the thick stem of the palm. I kept my eyes upon the captain.

‘ Now, then! ’ he said in a whisper. He had taken a step behind the guard, who was watching the operations of the head-man.

‘ Now, then! ’

The captain gave a twitch to his arms, freeing them in an instant. The next instant he had snatched the spear from the guard and had run him through the body. Then, before the head-man had time even to look up from his task, the captain’s fingers were about his throat.

‘Now, you ruffian, it’s our turn,’ muttered the captain through his set teeth. I saw that the native was being choked. His eyes were starting from his head. He struggled, but only as a mouse struggles in the grasp of a cat. The captain forced him backward about a dozen steps, and then, gathering up strength, dashed him against one of the thickest trees. The back of the man’s head struck the stem near the roots; he rolled over like a log. The captain stooped over him, drew the knife he carried in his girdle, and—I turned away my head.

‘ No,’ said the captain, ‘ I’m not going to do that with the knife—he’s not worth it.’

He quickly severed the rope and the strips of matting that bound me.

‘ Now, then,’ he whispered, ‘ we’ve done everything quietly so far; let us see if we can’t finish the affair without a noise. I won’t consider that we’re safe until we’re in sight of our own plantation.’

I paused over the body of the man who had treated us so cruelly.

‘ Come on,’ said the captain. ‘ He’s no more dead than you are. These fellows’ heads would break a millstone. He’ll come to in half an hour.’

‘ Captain Harwood,’ said I, ‘ I’m not bloodthirsty, but I’d give a five-pound note for that man, alive and hearty, to be placed opposite to me for a quarter of an hour, with no weapon handy, but only our fists to——’

‘Well, wait then till he recovers,’ cried the captain, striding on.

I laughed as I caught up with him.

‘We’re not clear yet,’ said my companion. ‘ Listen below there.’

Only for a second we paused. From the camp on the beach came a series of shrill cries. The head-man and the guard were evidently missed by those of the natives who had not gone to sleep.

‘ This way,’ I whispered. ‘ I know a short cut to our plantation.’

CHAPTER XLII

AT THE HEAD OF OUR MEN.

AT the other side of the slope, just beyond the line of cocoa-nut palms, there was a slight declivity; this we passed in hot haste; and then, instead of going round the dense plantation that stretched from half-way up the opposite slope to where the ridge fell away above a rocky gorge, nearly a mile off, I led the captain directly into the plantation.

‘ We cannot force our way through here,’ he cried.

‘ Come on,’ I answered, leading the way.

We had only to push ourselves through a network of trailers to come upon a track that I had discovered in the course of my many wanderings over the island. The track led almost in a direct line to the log house which the crew of the ‘ Maori ’ had raised on the confines of the potato patch. But though the house was only a mile away, we were forced to rest for some minutes on the track —our limbs were stiff with the long confinement aboard the prahu.

At last we came to the clearing, and saw, not a hundred yards away, the log house with its flagpole. By the light of the stars I saw that the pole was no longer bare: a flag fluttered from it with every light breeze that came over the tops of the palms.

The next few minutes would decide whether we should be joined to our old shipmates. As yet there was no sign of them. Suddenly, just as we had reached a small cluster of young palms, the captain paused, laying his hand upon my arm.

‘ What is that sound? ’ he asked. ' Listen; can it be that the savages are behind us? ’

I listened attentively, and became aware for the first time of the sounds that the captain had heard; strange hollow sounds, like—well, uncommonly like the snoring of a man who had made up his mind to prove that a fog horn of the loudest type manufactured was in every way inferior to nature’s own contrivances.

We burst out laughing simultaneously, and half a dozen steps to one side showed us that the sounds came from the occupant of a hammock made of woven trailers, and lined with leaves and thick grass, which was suspended between two small palms, about four feet above the ground. The man’s snoring made the topmost leaves of the palms quiver.

We were soon standing over the sleeper, who I at once saw was my friend Micky O’Hara.

‘ Royals, my lads; stow the royals! ’ shouted the captain in the man’s ear.

The effect was magical. The seaman tumbled out of his hammock in a second with an, ‘Ay ay, sir !’ He took half a dozen steps toward one of the trees, and then looked round in a puzzled way, as if wondering where the shrouds were. Then he rubbed his eyes, and burst into a laugh.

‘ Whoy, what a fool oi am, to be sure! ’ he muttered. ‘ If oi didn’t belave that oi heard the skipper, bliss him, singin’ out to take in the royals.’

He gave a tremendous yawn, and was about returning to his hammock, when I took a step forward and stood before him.

He started, and then became transfixed to the ground, as it were, staring at me.

‘ It’s thrue, thin,’ he murmured after a pause.

‘ What Mr. Borrows says is thrue; the ould ship is gone, an’ all aboard is lost. This is the young gin-tlemin’s ghost come to till us all about it.’

‘ I’m worth a hundred ghosts yet, Micky, my boy,’ I cried; ‘ but if you fancy I’m a ghost, what do you make of the captain there? ’

‘ It’s no use,’ said the man, shaking his head solemnly. ‘ Oi know yer both sperits come to till us here of yer own diths. Ah, go back to yer rist in quoiet, poor craythurs. Rist in pace! Rist in pace! ’

‘ Come,’ said the captain with a laugh, ‘ this is no time for skylarking. Make your report, my man.’

‘ Mother o’ Brian Boru, it’s the ould man himsilf!’ cried the Irishman. ‘ Hooroo! the ship’s safe —we’ll say our native counthry wanst agin. An’ did ye bring the ould ship back to the anchorage, sur? ’

‘ There’s a lot to be told,’ said the captain, ‘ but we have our hands full just now, and there’s no time for talk. Muster the ship’s company. Is everybody safe? Where is Mr. Borrows? ’

‘ Every sowl is safe and sound,’ said Micky. ‘ Come, boys, come! All hands on dick! ’ he shouted, running toward the log house. ‘ All hands on dick! sure it’s the captain himsilf orthers ye.’

In a few moments Mr. Borrows appeared, and the rest of the ship’s company. Most of them had been sleeping inside the log house; others, like Micky, in hammocks of their own construction among the trees.

‘ It’s the cap’n, the cap’n himsilf, boys,’ shouted the Irishman, while Mr. Borrows was shaking hands warmly with his commander. Then there arose in that strange place three hearty cheers and one cheer more.

Mr. Borrows then said,—

‘ I have to report, sir, that the men who deserted have submitted, and are ready to rejoin the ship. Those who—’

‘All right, Mr. Borrows,’ said the captain; ' I’ll hear the full report later on. There’s other work for us to do to-night, and without delay, too. We have been in the hands of natives, and only just escaped from one of their junks; the fellows may even be in pursuit of us now.’

In an instant every man of the crew had rushed into the log house. Such a show of cowardice I could scarcely believe possible. Before I could express my surprise the men had returned, each bearing a gun, into the breech of which he was pushing a cartridge. The captain and I were the only-unarmed ones in the company. I felt rather glad of this. I did not believe that I was equal to the carrying of a heavy rifle, my poor arms ached so terribly.

‘ That looks like business, my lads,’ said the captain. ‘We’ll march to the shore and scuttle the junk to begin with; then drive the savages inland, and clear off in our own boats. You will know where they are. We have a two days’ voyage before us.’

‘ We’re ready, sir,’ said one of the men.

‘And not a minute too soon,’ said I. ‘Listen, and you will hear how close those fellows are behind us.’

The yells that sounded through the still air told us that the natives were close at hand.

‘ Now, my men,’ said the captain, ‘follow me; but there must be no massacre. Give them one volley to show them our strength, and let every man aim high. If they try to stop us on our way to the shore, down with them.’

The men formed in Indian file, and marched in the direction whence the sounds were coming. The natives had evidently tracked us through the wood. They could not be far away now, we judged, by the sound of their shrill voices.

‘ Keep well in cover, my men,’ said the captain in a low tone. ‘ Get behind that clump of trees until they show themselves in the open, then let them have a grain or two of powder.’

We got among the trees that he pointed out. The clump was growing midway between the log house and the slope of the wood. We had scarcely made this movement when about twenty dusky forms showed themselves, emerging from the first line of trees. They paused for a moment, apparently surprised to see so remarkable an object as the log house. Then with a series of yells they rushed into the open.

‘ Steady,’ whispered the captain. Cock your rifles, and wait till they are within fifty yards.’

The men showed themselves to be very patient. The savages ran on. Half a dozen of them had come to within about sixty yards of where we were hiding.

‘ Now, then! ’ shouted the captain, ‘ give it to them, my lads! ’

The seamen rushed out with a cheer. They poured a fire that nothing could resist against the advancing natives. To my amazement a shower of spears and arrows came amongst us. None seemed to take effect but one—an arrow that struck a man directly in front of me. I stooped over the man, who had fallen back. His face was turned up to the stars, and his eyes were closed. I drew out the arrow, and from the wound came a great spirt of blood. The man grasped my arm spasmodically for a moment—only a moment—then his fingers relaxed their hold, his arm fell down by my knee where I had raised his head. He was dead. The arrow had gone between his ribs, and had reached his heart.

Micky O’Hara, who was nearest me, lent a hand to carry the body among the trees.

‘ Poor boy! ’ said he. ‘ Poor Steve! Is this the last o’ ye? ’

Then I knew for the first time who was Stephen Sliddell—the man who had brought all the trouble upon us. Surely he had paid the penalty of his own misdeeds.

I picked up the rifle that the dead man had carried, and Micky gave me some cartridges. We ran in the direction of the firing and the shouting among the trees, but we found that the men were only shooting away their powder. The natives had rushed into the thickest part of the woods, where they could not be followed. The volley that our men had fired had, however, been effective. We knew that some at least could not escape.

We hastened down to the shore by the track I had found through the forest. We were just in time. A number of the natives were making frantic efforts to launch the prahu. We ran down the slope and gave them a volley. They did not wait for a second, but turned and rushed frantically along the shore, disregarding the reproaches of one of their number whose figure I recognised as that of the head-man of the prahu.

I resisted the temptation of having a shot at him, though some of my companions were not so particular. They all missed him, however, and, with a defiant wave of the spear he held, he rushed into the water, and we could hear him swimming across the bay. This was the last I heard of the wretch who had treated us so cruelly.

Our men then stove in the timbers of the prahu, and, throwing a quantity of dry grass and branches aboard, set the whole on fire. I lay on the bank eating some delicious bananas which I had plucked, for I felt in a condition of starvation. I shall never forget the scene that was before me at that time —the dark slope at the opposite side of the bay, crowned with the millions of bright stars—the still surface of the water reflecting the lurid flames of the blazing boat.

CHAPTER XLIII

ONCE MORE ON OUR OWN DECK.

BY the captain’s orders we now set out for that part of the bay where the two boats of the ‘ Great Orion ’ were lying hauled up. On our way thither the captain and I learned from the mate what had occurred since the ship had left the island.

The deserters had all submitted themselves to Mr. Borrows as soon as the ship had left the anchorage. They seemed to understand that if they were doomed to spend some time together on the island they should live as shipmates. They had lived comfortably, of course, on fresh pork and vegetables, and were daily expecting the return of the ship.

In exchange for this story we told all that had happened to ourselves, and the fortunate circumstance of the rajah’s over-caution, which had brought us once more to Maori Island. For the first time then I learned that the captain’s arms had not really been secured before we were taken ashore. He had tricked the head-man, and allowed him to tie a ‘ tomfool’s ’ knot around his arms, which a single twitch unloosed.

Mr. Borrows, in reply to the captain’s inquiry, said that he fully believed that the boatswain would be able to keep the ship, with the aid of the two brass cannon, until we should arrive in the boats to relieve him.

We soon reached the place where the boats were hauled up. Both were launched and brought round to a part of the bank where the trailers drooped into the water. Here they were hidden while the men set out for our plantation to get supplies for the voyage that was before us, and also to bury the man who had been killed by the arrow; his identity I had revealed to the captain.

I did not leave the boat I was in; but lying down in the stern-sheets, with the trailing branches over my head, I indulged in the soundest sleep I ever remember having.

It was early morning when the men returned from their expedition. They had, they said, seen no further trace of the natives. The boats were soon manned, a rough mast being stepped in each —the deserters under the command of Sliddell had showed their wisdom by providing their boat with plenty of sail-cloth, and their forethought was lucky for us all now.

We were soon steering out of the bay; but we were not allowed to leave it without notice; for just as we were passing close to a wooded point, a dozen figures started up, and before we could bring a gun to bear upon them, a flight of arrows was sent against us. All fell short, and we did not think it worth our while wasting a cartridge for the sake of retaliation.

I am not prepared to tell anything of our voyage to the rajah’s island. It was undoubtedly a perilous thing to attempt a voyage such as this in two open boats; but the thing had to be done, perilous or otherwise. I did not think upon its probable dangers, I only thought of sleep. The sufferings which I had undergone had completely broken me down. It is my belief that I slept without interruption during the two days that, as I afterwards learned, elapsed before I heard the cry of ‘ Land ahead! ’

There lay before us the island we had left less than a week ago. With a fine breeze off their beams the two boats, not a quarter of a mile apart, bore up for the coast We soon got close enough to recognise the headland, in the rear of which was the sandy beach where we hoped to find the ‘ Great Orion ’ safe and sound.

The anxiety we felt respecting the safety of the ship was increased by the sounds of firing which we heard. It seemed that the ship was firing minute guns. It appeared ages before the boats had run along far enough for the ship to come in view. Every man was straining forward in anxiety to catch the first glimpse of the vessel.

The first glimpse was sufficient to tell us what was taking place. Two large prahus were to seaward of the ship, and the mast of another was appearing above the surface of the water. One of the native vessels was alongside the ‘Great Orion,’ and the other was paddling round her quarter. Hundreds of the natives we could see swarming over the bulwarks. The firing of the guns had ceased.

‘Out with the oars and pull, my men,’ cried the captain. ‘ The natives have taken the ship.’

‘ They have,’ I replied quickly; ‘ but they have not taken the crew. I can hear the sound of my gun. There it goes again. Bravo! They’ll give a good account of themselves, never fear! ’

‘ Pull away, my men, if you wish to save them,’ shouted the captain, and both boats flew through the water. ' I see it all now: after working the brass cannon until the natives boarded, our men retired to the cabins, and are now making practice with the gun through the window. Good men! keep at it, my lads; keep at it! ’

The boats had come on unperceived until they were within a cable’s length of the nearest prahu. Then with a shout the sailors dropped their oars, seized the rifles, and sent a volley of bullets against the prahu. The consternation of the natives aboard amounted to a panic. With a chorus of wild shrieks they threw themselves from the bulwarks into the water. The others, who were already aboard our ship, on running to the side to see what was the matter, were neatly picked off by our men, and joined their friends in the water. The captain’s blood was up. He sailed the boat to the leeward of the ship, and so cut off the prahus from the shore. Those of the crews who remained at the paddles took a course out to sea, but the greater number of the natives preferred running the chance of reaching the headland at the other side of the cove by diving. We could have picked them off like ducks, but we thought it well to confine our attention to those who had not yet left the deck of the ship. We were soon relieved from the duty of clearing the decks, however; for the boatswain and the four men who had held the ship now appeared. Giving us a cheer they rushed at the remaining natives with handspikes and other weapons, and before them every native went overboard with a howl.

We cheered our gallant shipmates from the boats, and, quickly running alongside the ship, climbed once more on deck. When the captain was again master of his own ship another cheer arose.

‘ Thank you, my lads,’ said he; ‘ but she’s not afloat yet, and not likely to be either.’

' Yes, she will, sir,’ said Mr. Borrows. ‘ If we have to send to Singapore for a tug we’ll have her afloat.’

We soon learned all that the boatswain had to report.

When we failed to return to the ship on that day when we had gone ashore with the rajah, the boatswain believed that we had been massacred, and his impression was naturally confirmed by the attack which, as the rajah had told us, was made upon the ship the same evening. The carpenter had then fortified the ship as well as he could, and the two brass cannon were lashed down in the bows with their muzzles directed aft so as to be able to sweep the decks in case of the ship being boarded. No other attempt was made by the natives until this day, when three great prahus were brought into action, and a boarding successfully accomplished, though the guns had done good work before the crew were forced to retire to the cabins.

‘ You relieved us just at the right moment, sir,’ said the boatswain.

‘You did the whole work yourselves, my men,’ said the captain; ‘ and I’ll enter the names of every man of you in my log-book.’

CHAPTER XLIV

THE RAJAH’S PUNISHMENT.

IT was pleasant to be able to tuck oneself in among the blankets that night for the first time for more than a week. But it seemed that I had scarcely done so and closed my eyes, before there was a great commotion on deck.

‘ Another attack—more fighting—I’m sick of fighting! ’ I murmured. But in another instant I was sitting up in my uncomfortably sloping bunk, for a remarkable sound came to my ears—the sound was neither more nor less than the blowing off steam of a steamship.

Before I had got my legs into my trousers I heard the even stroke of a well-drilled boat’s crew. The boat was evidently just under our quarter when I heard the order given.

‘ Bow! oars in! ’

The quick splash made by shipping eight oars was followed by the hail from our deck.

‘ Boat ahoy! ’

‘ Ship ahoy! ’ came the response. ‘ Is that ship the “ Great Orion ”? ’

‘ “ Great Orion ” she is, sir. What boat is that? ’

‘Jolly-boat of Her Majesty’s frigate “Bullfinch,” having on board the second officer of the “ Great Orion.” ’

I ran on deck in time to meet Merrick, as he climbed up the side, followed by the second lieutenant of the frigate.

‘ What! ’ shouted Merrick, seeing both the captain and myself, ‘ you have managed to slip your cable from that old pepper-growing scoundrel? ’

‘Yes, we managed it somehow,’ replied the captain.

‘ But who’s this? ’ cried the second mate, as Mr. Borrows came up. ‘ How did you come here?’

‘It's a long story,’ said the captain. ‘It is enough for the present to know that we are all safe and sound, thank God! ’

‘ Then our mission is for nothing, sir,’ said he, turning to the naval officer.

' I’m sorry for that,’ said the lieutenant. ‘ The fact is, sir,’ he continued, turning to Captain Harwood, ‘ our frigate was lucky enough to pick up your officer in one of the native junks two days ago.’

‘ Or rather the frigate picked me up out of the water when I had jumped overboard from the junk, and managed to escape the arrows that were sent after me.’

‘ Quite so; and hearing his story, and the course to steer for the island, our commander thought it would be well to steam here without delay, to see if we could not manage to effect your ransom on easier terms than the native chief thought fit to ask. Nothing, however, remains to be done but to congratulate you on your escape; and perhaps we may have a word or two to say to the chief before morning. Good-night, sir; I’ll report all well to my commander.’

‘ Good-night, sir,’ said the captain. ‘ You’ll give him my compliments, and say that I hope to have the honour of paying my respects to him in the morning.’

The officer touched his cap and returned to his boat. We saw it reach the frigate that lay at anchor about half a mile from the shore—blowing off steam.

About a quarter of an hour afterwards, when Merrick was telling us of his voyage in the prahu, and how when the British frigate was passing, he had succeeded in jumping overboard to be picked up by the commander, we were startled by the terrific report of a heavy gun. The whole island was illuminated by a rocket which hung in the air just above the village of the natives. Five minutes after there came another report, and we distinctly heard the ‘ singing ’ of a shell through the air. Then we knew that the commander of the frigate was about to shell the village, with a view to teach the rajah a lesson.

For about half an hour shell after shell was thrown, and the air was made sulphurous with the smoke that floated to leeward over us. It was some hours before I could go to sleep.

All that now remains to be told of the voyage of the ‘ Great Orion ’ is not much.

With the commander of the frigate and a bodyguard of a dozen men we visited the ruins of the village and the pepper plantation the next morning. The destruction of all was complete; but as no dead bodies were found we concluded that the population had fled to the forest when the rocket had been thrown.

‘ He’ll not want to sell any pepper for another year at any rate,’ remarked the commander.

‘ No,’ said Captain Harwood; ‘your peppering will probably turn his thoughts toward a less fiery crop.’

Before evening a wire hawser was payed out from the stern of the ‘ Bullfinch ’ to the ‘ Great Orion,’ the frigate’s crew having shored the ship up, and lightened her. After working for some hours, the good ship began to move and was safely towed into deep water. A spare anchor was lent by the frigate, and riggers, as well as calkers, were sent aboard, so that in less than a week we were once more, as the second lieutenant said,‘ a going concern.’

Our voyage to Sydney was accomplished in good time, and from that port I telegraphed home announcing my safety. As the ‘ Great Orion ’ was to refit at Port Jackson, I thought it better to return home by steamer. I reached England in forty-five days, and soon found myself in the somewhat embarrassing position of a hero; for the newspapers had somehow got hold of an account of the adventures of the ‘ Great Orion,’ and I was the only-representative of the ship’s company who could corroborate the narrative that had been published in Australia.

A month after my return I got married, and I trust, like the heroes and the heroines in the fairy tales, that I shall ‘live happy ever after.’

I have just now heard that the underwriters of the ‘ Great Orion ’ have determined to present the captain of the ship with a gold chronometer and each of the officers with a watch, while every member of the crew is to receive the sum of twenty pounds. Toward myself they have been equally kind; the brooch that my wife now wears is their gift. The design consists of diamonds arranged in the position of the stars in the constellation of' Orion.