But he made no sign, and, forced by the circ.u.mstances to act, I leaned over, turned his head a little more on one side, and found that the hair was all matted together with the blood, which was already drying up.

Then I began to think that the hair ought all to be cut away, the wound bathed and strapped up, and I was about to proceed to do it, when another thought occurred to me.

It was this:--

The bleeding had pretty well stopped, and would, I felt sure, quite stop in a few minutes, so perhaps I should not be acting wisely if I disturbed the injury then, for it might be better if I tried to bring him to his senses, and then he would advise me what to do, and how to do it.

I believe I was in great pain then, but I forgot it for the moment as I looked round and I saw that there was water there, and sponges and towels were close at hand, so without farther hesitation I poured out some of the water into a little basin, and taking a sponge, well bathed his face, after opening the window, for the cabin was suffocating.

I bathed and bathed, and changed the water so as to get it a little cooler, though the rapid evaporation helped me most, and at last, to my great delight, his eyelids began to quiver, and finally he lay there staring at me wildly, and with his face terribly white.

"Mr Frewen, do you know me?" I said.

"Know you?--know you? Yes, of course," he said hoa.r.s.ely. "What is the matter?--what has happened?" and his hand went to the back of his head.

"You were hurt when the powder went off," I said, watching his face eagerly. "Don't you remember?"

"Yes," he cried eagerly. "I threw myself back over the barricade with you."

"And the door and all the boxes and chests were blown in and buried us, I think."

"Was--was any one killed?" he said huskily.

"I don't know; I think not," I replied.

"But don't you know, boy?" he cried angrily.

"No; I was hurt by the chests the same as you were, and don't know what happened. It was all like being in a dream till a little while ago."

"Then you know nothing?" he said excitedly.

"I only have a sort of misty recollection of lying there after the explosion, till I was carried out on deck and laid in the sun."

Then I told him all about being like in a nightmare, and hearing them talk of throwing us both overboard, only Bob Hampton said we were alive.

"The scoundrel!" he said bitterly.

"Well, I thought it very jolly of him then," I said, "for if it had not been for him we should have--"

I pointed downward.

"Right to the bottom of the sea," I added.

"Yes; and you seem to have been hurt."

"Hurt? I should think I was, horribly," I cried; "but it don't seem so bad now, since I've been helping you."

"But the pa.s.sengers, Dale?" he said excitedly, as he tried to sit up, but sank back with a groan; "have you not heard anything whatever about them?"

I shook my head.

"Didn't you see anything to suggest that any one was killed and--and thrown overboard?"

"No, Mr Frewen."

"Go out then and make inquiries, my good lad," he said piteously; "this suspense is worse than the injury."

"You forget," I said quietly.

"Forget? What?"

"That we are prisoners. I couldn't get out."

"Yes, yes," he moaned. "I forgot. My head is all confused and strange.

What's that?"

"Some one knocking gently at the bulk-head," I whispered, for there were three gentle taps on the wooden part.i.tion just opposite to where I was kneeling.

"Then there is some one else a prisoner," he cried. "Quick, speak to him."

"Better not speak," I said; "we may bring in some of Jarette's gang;"

and rising softly, I took out my pocket-knife, and gave three gentle taps with the haft just about the spot where we had heard the sounds.

The moment I had done, two knocks came in answer, and when I had responded in the same way, there was one single one given which I also answered.

"That only stands for some one being there," said Mr Frewen, with a sigh; "we have no code arranged by which we could communicate."

"Oh yes, we have," I said, with a laugh, and, after breaking my thumb-nail, I managed to open out a gimlet fitted in the back of my knife, in company with a b.u.t.ton-hook, a lancet, another to bleed horses, a tooth-pick, pair of tweezers, and a corkscrew, all of which had been very satisfactory to look at when I received the knife as a present; but I often had come to the conclusion that the knife would have been better with two more blades instead. But now its time had come, and with a feeling of being able to triumph over a difficulty, I stepped to the bulk-head, feeling rather giddy and strange in the head, but this pa.s.sed off in the excitement, as I rapidly stuck in the point of the gimlet and began to bore.

The bulk-head was composed of three-quarter inch board, but I kept on boring and boring without apparently getting through, and I drew out the gimlet at last, after boring in as far as I could, and stood looking at the position in dismay.

Just then came a fresh tapping, to which I responded, and then as I listened to the hollow sound I knew what had been wrong. I had been boring through the board just where it was backed by one of the uprights which gave strength to the bulk-head.

The next minute I had bored a hole right through, and on withdrawing the gimlet I could see daylight.

"Who's that?" I whispered, with my lips to the tiny hole, and placing my ear to the orifice I heard for answer--

"Me, Mr Preddle. Who are you?"

"Dale and Mr Frewen," I answered.

"What does he say?" asked Mr Frewen.

"Says he is so glad, sir."

"Thank him, and ask him about the pa.s.sengers, whether any one is hurt."

I whispered the question through the hole, and listened for the answer.