Bob Hampton thrust in the rammer and felt the cartridge.

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

"No; I think it was perfectly dry."

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

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

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

"Sure you did it like that, sir?"

"Yes; certain."

"Then no wonder it didn't go off. Why, that's the way to sarve one o'

them breeches-loaders. You don't put a cartridge ball first into the muzzle of a gun."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It is astonishing what effect those gentle breezes had upon our spirits.

I found myself whistling and going to the galley to ask the cook what there was for dinner, and I found him singing, and polishing away at his tins, his galley all neat and clean, and the dinner well in progress.

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

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

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

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

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

Why, of course I joined 'em, same as lots more did. Any fellow would rather live in a beautiful island than have his brains blown out."

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

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

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

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

"Terribly."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Or if Mr Preddle would only use those bellows of his on the sails,"

said her brother, smiling.

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

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

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