"Yes, yes," was murmured in a tone full of emotion; and at that moment there was a sharp crack which seemed to have come from somewhere in the saloon.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

We all ran out, but no one was there, and Walters' cabin door was fast.

I was quickest, and ran out of the saloon, but there was no one nearer than the forecastle-hatch in one direction, and on the other as I ran up the ladder there was the man at the wheel, one of the men we had secured, while the other was seated on the bulwark talking to him and smoking.

"What could it have been?" I thought, for a shiver of dread had run through me, a dread that some one had been listening, and overheard the doctor's words.

But the next moment I laughed, and went back to those who were examining the various cabins.

"All right," I said, pointing upwards, "that was it; I did not properly fasten up that sky-light, and it fell down."

It was exactly as I said, for there was the window I had stuck open shut closely down.

"I was afraid that some one had been listening to what I had planned,"

said Mr Frewen.

"So was I, sir," I said, "but we're all right. The men were both at the wheel."

The next minute we were all in consultation again. I say we, for I was quite made one of them, young as I was. Then the matter was thoroughly discussed, for Mr Frewen's plan proved to be not so easy on consideration as we had at first supposed.

"You see, gentlemen," said Mr Brymer, "it's one thing to set a trap, and another to get your rats to walk into it. How were you thinking of giving it to them?"

"I thought dissolved in water," replied Mr Frewen.

"Two objections to that," said Mr Denning; "the stuff would make it taste, and in all probability some of the men would not take it."

"I'll answer for it that Jarette would not touch water," cried Mr Brymer, "so that plan will not do. You can't give it to him with biscuits. Yes, what's the matter?" he cried, for there was a loud rapping at the entrance to the saloon.

"Beg pardon, sir," said Bob Hampton's voice, "here's a deppytation from the chaps in the forksle."

"What?" cried Mr Brymer, in alarm, "are they out?"

"No, sir, not they. One of 'em's got up into the hatchway as spokesman, and he's been giving us a bit of his mind."

"What does he say?"

"Says as he wants to know whether you mean to starve 'em out; as they've on'y had some water and biscuit for twenty-four hours, and that if you don't send 'em some grub, they'll set fire to the ship, for they'd sooner be roasted than starved."

"All right, Hampton; go back and tell them that we will see what can be done, but that if they fire another shot they shall not have a biscuit."

"Right, sir," growled Hampton, and he turned upon his heel and went back, while Mr Brymer exclaimed in an excited whisper--

"There, doctor, could anything be better?"

"No; they are playing into our hands; but there is the difficulty still.

How can we give it to them? It must be something of which all will partake. Why not have some coffee made for them?"

"Half of them wouldn't touch it," said Captain Berriman. "I'd suggest grog, but they have spirits no doubt, and they want food."

There was a dead silence, and then feeling nervous, and as if I was certain to be snubbed, I ventured to speak.

"Wouldn't a tin of the soup do?" I said.

Mr Brymer brought his hand down on my shoulder.

"The very thing!" he cried eagerly. "You have some tins of soup amongst the Australian meat, captain?"

"Yes, plenty."

"That will do then, only it must be done with a certain amount of cunning, or they may have suspicions. Depend upon it, if I am seen in it they will not take the stuff."

"Then what is to be done?" said Mr Frewen.

"I propose," replied Mr Brymer, "that I get a couple of tins out of the store and open them. Then Dale here shall take them to the cook; the excuse for their being opened is to be that so many tins have gone bad."

"Which is true enough," said the captain, feebly.

"Exactly," continued Mr Brymer; "and these were opened to make sure that they were all right."

"Well?"

"You can give me the stuff--laudanum, or whatever it is--to mix with the contents of one tin, which Dale can take to the cook, and tell him to warm up and reduce with hot water, while he reserves the other for our table."

"But why give him two?" said the doctor.

"Because I want to avert suspicion in every way. The cook has been mixed up with the men, and he shut himself up as you know in dread of our punishing him, perhaps shooting him down. He may suspect something, and manage to warn the men. If two tins are sent, one for the men and one for our own table, everything will look simple and ordinary."

"And suppose he gives us the drugged one by mistake?"

"We can guard against that by sending a large one and a small one. No-- by sending two different kinds."

"There is only one kind," said the captain.

"I don't like the plan," said the doctor. "It may end in a mistake, and we don't want to be hoist with our own petard."

"Hang it, no!" cried Mr Brymer. "All right then, we will not eat the soup."

"But why shouldn't I take my drug--it will only be a small portion of a white powder--and drop it into the soup when it is ready?"

"Because there would certainly be some hitch in the proceedings to hinder you getting it in. Besides, we don't want the cook to be in the secret."

"Very well then," said the doctor, "I suppose that must be the plan.

I'll go and get the drug ready at once, and bring it here. But one minute; how many men are there in the forecastle?--because I must reckon accordingly."

"Say sixteen. You must give them a pretty good dose."