"Come, come," said Panton hoa.r.s.ely, as he supported the man, Drew trying hard the while to shake off the effects of the vapour and be of some service.

"He liked him, gents," growled Wriggs, an the strange intoxication seemed now to have pa.s.sed off.

"Yes," cried Smith, hysterically. "Course I did, gentlemen, and I'm going in again to try and fetch the poor lad out. But," he continued feebly, "you can't breathe in there, and it takes hold on yer somehow and sucks the strength out of yer. It's like when poor Joe n.o.ble went down in the hold among the foul air, and it killed him right off at wunst."

"There, hold up," said Panton, firmly now. "I'll go this time."

"Yes, sir, and we'll go together and take hold of hands," cried Smith.

"Ay, all on us," growled Wriggs, "and take hold o' hands and fetch him out afore we've done."

Drew said nothing, but as Wriggs caught hold of Smith's hand, he seized Panton's, and, moved as if by one mind, they stepped quickly forward, feeling at the end of a dozen paces that there was a difference in the air they breathed, which grew thicker as their sight became less clear and their motions more heavy.

But hand clenched hand with more convulsive violence, and in step they kept on till first one and then another reeled and staggered, and it was only by turning suddenly round and stumbling back over their track that they were able to reach the free fresh air before, to a man, they staggered and fell to the ground.

Panton was the first to speak.

"I'd try again," he groaned, "but I have not the strength."

"Ay, and I'd go, sir, but it's as I said!" cried Smith piteously.

"Think he can be alive yet?"

"Heaven only knows," sighed Panton, as he tried to sit up, but sank back again, while Drew turned his face toward them and gazed at his companions with a strangely vacant expression that in its helplessness was pitiful to see.

"Tommy!" gasped Wriggs suddenly, as he lay flat on his face, "hit me, will yer, matey--hit me hard. That there feeling's come all over me again, and I don't know what I'm a doing, or what I'm a saying. It's just as if I'd been struck silly and my legs had run away."

"Try--try again, Smith," groaned Panton. "Give me your hand. I think I am stronger now."

"Not you, sir," replied the sailor. "Here, hi! Billy Wriggs, whatcher doing on?"

For the man had slowly raised himself upon his feet again, and was tottering toward the mist.

"I'm a-going, matey, to fetch that there young natooralist out o' yonder if I dies for it: that's what I'm a-going to do."

He spoke in a low muttering growl, and the man's looks and actions as he reeled and groped his way along were those of one stupefied by some strong narcotic.

"But yer can't do it, lad," cried Smith, rising to his knees. "Come back."

"I'm a-going to fetch out that there young natooralist," muttered Wriggs, as he staggered on.

"But I tell yer yer can't," shouted Smith.

"Quick, let's try again," said Panton, struggling to his feet once more, and now with Smith also erect and grasping his hand, they two came on in Wriggs' track, just as Drew rolled over quite insensible.

They did not advance a dozen paces, for Wriggs, who had tottered on strong in his determination to do that which his nature forbade, gave a sudden lurch and fell heavily, head in advance, and the others knew that he must be within the influence of the mephitic vapour.

It was hard work to think this, for, as Smith afterwards said, it was like using your brain through so much solid wood; but in a blind helpless fashion they tottered on, and, bending down, each caught one of the man's ankles, and dragged him back by their weight more than by any mechanical action of their own, each movement being a kind of fall forward and the natural recovery. The result was that step by step Wriggs was dragged from where the vapour was inhaled till Drew was reached, and they sank upon the bare burnt earth again, bewildered, and lacking the power to think, as if the mists had gathered thickly in their brains, and they could do nothing else but lie and wait for the return of strength.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE HELP THAT CAME.

Hours pa.s.sed, during which the little party lay utterly exhausted and overcome, sunk in a deep sleep, which partook more of the nature of a swoon. They were only a few yards away from the mist, and in such a position that, had a breeze arisen to waft it toward them, the probabilities were that they would never have awakened more.

It was Panton who first slowly opened his eyes to look round and gaze wonderingly at his companions, then at the golden mist, whose deeper folds were orange and warm soft red.

For it was evening, and as he turned toward the sinking sun it was some minutes before it occurred to him that it would be tropic night almost directly after, and that his companions should be roused. At the same moment came the recollection of why they were there, but without the strange confusion from which he had before suffered, the long sleep having carried it off.

The others started into wakefulness at a touch, and stood staring at him helplessly.

"Are you ready to try again?" he said in a low voice full of emotion.

"Yes," came spoken simultaneously.

"Then come on, we must find him now."

He took a step or two forward, and the others followed, but a moment later Smith seized him by the arm.

"No, sir," he cried. "It won't do, and I should be no man if I let you go."

"Loose my arm!" cried Panton, angrily. "Recollect, sir, who you are!"

"I do, sir," said the man stoutly; "but you're not my officer, only a pa.s.senger; and if our poor old captain was alive, or if Mr Rimmer was here, he'd say I was quite right."

"What do you mean, sir?" cried Panton, whom the exposure to the mephitic gases had left irritable and strange.

"I mean, sir, as it's my dooty to stop you from going to sartain death, and you may say what you like, and call me what you like, but me and my mate, Billy Wriggs, is going to stop you, so there."

"Such insolence!" cried Panton angrily.

"All right, sir. You're going to do as I do, aren't you, Billy?"

"Course I am, Tommy. And you give in, sir. He's got a horful long head has Tommy Smith, and what he says is right; we aren't going to let you go."

"Cowards!" cried Panton angrily.

"That's right, sir, you just go on like that a bit, and call us names.

It'll ease your mind ever so. We don't mind, do we, Billy?"

"Not us," growled Wriggs. "He's right, sir. Give it to us."

"Brutes!" cried Panton, as the darkness began to approach with wonderful speed. "Here, Drew, we must go together. We cannot desert our comrade at a time like this."

"No," said Drew, "it would be the act of cowards if we could do anything; but the men are right. You cannot go."

"What? You side with them? Cowards! Yes, worse. How could we ever face his friends unless we had striven to the last?"