"And they were all quite willing you should do it."

"Only two objected, sir."

"Who were they?"

"Li Chang and Brunton, sir."

"But they made no effort to warn me."

"The others said they'd kill them if they did."

"I see."

Calamity leant back in his chair and surveyed his prisoner with the calm, questioning scrutiny of a scientist surveying some new and interesting specimen.

"So," he remarked at length, "it never occurred to any of you that I might be acquainted with everything that went on in the foc'sle; you even felt sure that I knew nothing of the little indignation meeting you held last Sunday. You were actually such fools as to suppose that, having shipped the worst gang of port vermin that ever soiled a ship's decks, I should remain quietly in my cabin in the hope that they were behaving themselves like decent men. I never thought that rascality and faith went hand in hand."

Skelt made no answer, and the Captain rang a little hand-bell on the table. Next moment the steward, a huge Chinaman called Sing-hi, entered the cabin.

"You lingee?" he inquired.

"Yes." Calamity turned to the prisoner. "Have you anything to say?" he asked.

"For G.o.d's sake don't be hard on me," implored the would-be murderer with abject piteousness. "Give me a chance, sir, and I'll do anything for you. Only one chance, sir, only one, and, before Christ, I'll be your slave."

A queer smile came over Calamity's face as he regarded the cringing servility of the ruffian.

"You would, would you?" he observed. "If I asked you to kill a certain man fora'd while he was asleep, would you do it?"

"Yes, sir, if you'll spare my life. I'll do anything, sir!" cried the man, with grovelling eagerness.

"You'd swear to do it?"

"I'll take my oath on the Bible, sir."

"I thought you would," answered the Captain grimly. "Steward, lock the man up in your room and don't hesitate to kill him if he tries to escape. Savee?"

"Savee plenty muchee," answered the huge Chinaman with a grin, whereupon he caught hold of the ex-boatswain's collar, swung him round, and hustled him out of the cabin. When they had gone, Calamity arose and made his way to the bridge, where Mr. d.y.k.es was on watch.

"Anything to report?" asked the Captain.

"No, sir."

"How are you managing with the crew?"

"Well, sir, they ain't quite as peaceful as they might be; not since we met the _Ann_."

"Indeed? why?"

"They seem to think we might have made her a prize and taken her into port. In fact," added the mate, warming up, "I may as well tell you there's going to be trouble, sir."

"Mutiny, you mean?"

"Yep, and when they start there'll be blue murder. It's that swine we picked up that's been workin' the mischief."

"Then we must deal with him, Mr. d.y.k.es."

"I guess it'll be a stiff proposition, Cap'n; he's gotten all the crew behind him. D'rectly you lay hands on him, it'll be like a spark in a powder-barrel."

"Then you regard him, virtually, as Captain of the ship?"

The mate made no answer, but shrugged his shoulders significantly. He believed that, in utterly disregarding the wishes of the crew, and, at the same time, maintaining an iron discipline, Calamity had bitten off "a bigger chunk than he could chew." However, he considered it prudent to keep this opinion to himself, and therein he was undoubtedly right.

"By to-morrow morning," went on the Captain after a pause, "all signs of mutiny will, I think, have disappeared."

"I hope to G.o.d they will, sir."

"I feel sure that an appeal to the men's reason, such as I shall make to-morrow, will not fail in its effect."

"An appeal to their reason, sir!" gasped the mate.

"Yes. A mild demonstration of the absurdity of attempting to mutiny."

"I don't get you, sir."

"No? Well, muster all hands on deck at eight bells. Good-night, Mr.

d.y.k.es."

"Good-night, sir," answered the mate, and, walking to the bridge-rail, expectorated over the side. "Well," he muttered, "if it ain't enough to make a feller spit blood. An appeal to their reason! Gee, he'll be holdin' family prayers in the cabin next."

At six bells, which was an hour before his watch was up, the mate perceived a man mounting the bridge-ladder.

"h.e.l.lo!" he exclaimed, "who are you?"

"Brunton, sir," answered the man.

"Well, what d'you want? It's not your watch."

"Have you seen Skelt, sir?"

"Seen Skelt!" roared the mate. "What the h.e.l.l do you take me for? D'you think I know where every perishin' son of a c.o.c.k-eyed monkey aboard this packet is?"

"He was going to murder the Captain, sir. I couldn't get away before, as all the others were watching me. I only got out now because they think he's funked it."

"Goin' to murder--here, fetch the second-mate up, quick!"

The man hurried to Smith's cabin and roused out the sleeping occupant, who stumbled up to the bridge vomiting profanity of varied hues.