Bruff looked up at his master and gave his tail a couple of wags. Then turning to the monkey again he seemed lost in thought.

"He won't bite now, will he, sir?" said Billy.

"No, he's all right; but will the monkey bite?"

"Not he, sir. I should like to catch him at it. Now, Jack," he continued, with one arm round his companion, "shake hands."

He held the animal forward toward Bruff, who was watching him stolidly, and gave his head a shake.

This act produced a frightened start on the monkey's part, and another burst of chattering.

"Better let him go," said Morgan. "I daresay they'll get used to one another by and by."

"He'll do it, sir; give him time," said Billy. "Now, Jack, give us your hand. You just pat his head. Sure he won't bite, sir?"

"Certain," cried Mark.

"It's all right: do you hear, stoopid? Ah! would you bite? You do, and I'll chuck yer overboard. Now, then."

In spite of the monkey's struggles he forced one hand to within reach of the dog's head, and pressed it down till he could pat it with the thin black fingers.

Bruff whined, but he was held by the collar, and suffered the touch without other protest, while, as if relieved by finding that his hand was neither burned nor bitten off, the monkey made no resistance the second time, ending by touching the dog himself, and, as if overcome by curiosity, struggling to be free, and squatting down and examining the interior of his new acquaintance's ears.

Bruff half-closed his eyes and made no resistance, and, cautiously loosening his hold upon the collar but kneeling ready to seize him at the least inimical display, Mark watched the little comedy which went on.

For after a rigid examination of one ear, and a loud chattering, probably a lecture upon its structure, Jack pulled the head over and proceeded to examine the other ear, after which he made several pokes at the dog's eyes, and held his head while he looked into them as if they were something entirely new, all of which Bruff submitted to in the calmest manner.

"They will not fight now," said the second-mate laughing.

It was evident they would not, for the dog suddenly leaped up and ran away with the monkey in chase, the one big-headed and clumsy, the other all activity and life; and for the next ten minutes they were careering about the deck, chasing each other and in the best of companionship, the game ending by Jack making a rush and clambering into one of the boats, where he lay panting and gazing over the side at the dog, who crouched, blinking up at him with his tongue out, waiting for him to come down.



CHAPTER NINE.

HOW THE STOWAWAY STOWED HIMSELF.

Glorious weather with the coasts of Africa and Europe visible together as they passed the straits. Then lovely summer days with pleasant winds as they sailed along the Mediterranean. The passengers were nearly always on deck, basking in the morning sunshine or taking refuge under the awning. The Scotch merchant took snuff; the three German students, who all wore spectacles and seemed exactly alike, leaned over the side in a row, smoked big meerschaum pipes, looked round-faced and bibulous, and very often uttered the word Zo. The stout doctor read books all day long; and the Irish major followed he captain everywhere, to declaim against the injustices practised in the army. "Injustices, sor, which have kept me down to meejor when I ought to have been a gineral;" and as he talked Mrs Major worked with Mrs Strong, and watched her daughter, a pretty bright girl of twelve, who passed her time between her books and watching the three German students as she tried to recollect which was which.

"Ah, captain," said the major to him one day, as they were all gazing at a large steamer that was passing them easily, "you won't understand me. You're a backward man, or you'd be in command of a fast steamer instead of a slow sailing ship."

"Sailing ships are quite dangerous enough, major, without having hundreds of tons of coal aboard, and a large fire roaring night and day. Fires are risky things aboard ship."

"Not if there's a properly disciplined crew on board, sor," said the major. "Bah!"

He cocked his cap on one side, and leaned forward to watch the passing steamer.

"I hope we should do our duty if we did have a fire, discipline or no discipline," said the captain gruffly, and the subject dropped.

It was a trifling incident, but it set several people on board thinking. It was, however, soon forgotten, and with the sea, as Billy Widgeon said, as smooth as a mill-pond, and all sail set, the great East Indiaman continued her course, the journey now being thoroughly enjoyable.

There were plenty of little incidents occurring to keep the trip from being monotonous. About every twenty-four hours Mr Gregory was finding fault with David Jimpny, who seemed to be one of those unfortunates who never succeed. From scraps of his history, which he insisted upon retailing to Mark when he could find him alone, it seemed that his life had been so many scenes of trouble.

"I'm a-trying hard, sir, as hard as I can, to be a sailor, but I don't get on. My hands never seem to manage ropes, and it's no use for Mr Gregory to bully me. I daren't go up these rope ladders; if I did I know I should be drowned."

In spite of this Mr Gregory one day ordered him aloft, and the poor fellow managed to get up as high as the mainmast head, when he seemed entirely to lose his nerve, and, letting his legs slip in between the shrouds, he clung there with his hands clutching the ratlines, and holding on for life.

"Go on up, sir; go on up," shouted the first-mate, and his hoarse orders attracted the attention of the passengers. But the poor fellow did not move, and growing tired at last, the mate ordered him to come down.

This order was of as much effect as those which preceded it, the man remaining motionless.

"If this was only the royal navy," cried the mate, "I'd have you spread-eagled up there and lashed to the rigging till you got used to it. Here, where are you going, youngster?"

"Up to see what's the matter," said Mark coolly; and swinging himself up he began to climb the rigging.

It was his first attempt, and as his feet began to make acquaintance with the ratlines he awoke for the first time to the fact that though they looked just like a ladder to climb it was a very different matter. They gave and the shrouds felt loose and seemed to sway; the height above looked terrific, and the distance below to the deck quite startling. That clean-boarded deck, too, appeared as if it would be horribly hard to fall upon; but a doubt arose in his mind as to what would be the consequences if he slipped—would he fall with a crash upon the deck, or slip part of the way down the shrouds, and be shot off into that extremely soft place, the sea?

The idea was so startling that he glanced down at it, to see that it looked gloriously clear and sunlit—transparent to a degree; but the great ship was gliding through it swiftly, and he knew that he would go down and down with the impetus of his fall, and come up somewhere in the current to be carried far astern in the troubled water in the wake of the ship.

How long would it take them to get down a boat? and what would become of him while he was waiting? He could swim as boys do swim in an ordinary way, who learn in some river or pool at school; but that was very different to being left astern in the sea with the ship going eight or nine knots an hour; and he felt that he would be drowned before help could come.

Then there were the sharks!

He did not know that there were any sharks, but his brain suggested to him that there would certainly be at least one big fellow whose back fin would be seen cutting the water as he glided towards his victim, his cross-cut mouth with its cruel, triangular saw-edged teeth ready; and then there would be the water stained with blood, and as he rose to the surface without, say, a leg, he would hear his mother's despairing shriek, and then—

He had got up about a dozen ratlines while his imagination had painted all that picture for him, and the result was that he set his teeth hard and went on climbing, but thoroughly realising the while how it was David Jimpny, the miserable stowaway, had lost his nerve, and was now clinging above him in that absurd attitude, with his legs stuck through between the shrouds.

Another minute and he was as high, holding on with both hands, and listening to the buzz of voices on deck, but particularly careful not to look down again.

"I'll think about what I'm doing," he said to himself, "and then I sha'n't be afraid."

"Hullo! Jimpny," he said aloud, "what's the matter?" and, setting one hand at liberty, he gave the man a slap on the shoulder.

"Don't, don't! Pray, don't touch me, or I shall fall," groaned the wretched man.

"Nonsense! you won't fall. Get up through that hole on to the woodwork."

"What, is it you, Mr Strong, sir?"

"Me? yes. I've come up to see what's the matter."

"Oh, take care, sir, or you'll tumble overboard."

"Nonsense! you've only got to hold tight," cried Mark to his own astonishment, for he could not understand how the man's cowardice should make him brave.

"I—I did hold tight. I am holding tight, sir, but I daren't move. Oh, I do feel so giddy. What shall I do?"

"Try and be a man," said Mark. "The mate's horribly cross with you. Here, hold tight with your hands and draw your legs out."

"I—I daren't stir," groaned the wretched man, "I should fall if I did. My head's all of a swim."

"Yes, because you frighten yourself," said Mark.

"Now then, Strong," cried the mate, "is that fellow asleep?"

"No, sir, he's coming down directly."

"Coming down!" growled the mate. "There, take care of him and mind he don't fall."

"You hear what he says," whispered Mark. "Come on up here. I'll go first and show you the way."

Truth to tell Mark did not want to go any higher, but under the circumstances he felt bound, terrible as it looked, and the remainder of the climb over the man's head was not made any the pleasanter by the poor wretch moaning out—

"Oh, don't! oh, don't! You'll push me off! You'll fall! I know you'll fall."

But Mark did not fall, and though he chose the easier way up he did display some courage, and lay flat down to extend a hand to his miserable companion.

"There, take hold of my hand. I'll help you," he said.

The man shook his head—wisely, perhaps, for Mark's help would not have been great as far as sustaining him went.

"I can't—I daren't move," he said. "It's as bad as being shut up in the hold. Please call for help."

"Ahoy, there!" shouted a familiar voice. "What are you doing, Mark?"

"Trying to help this man, father."

"Here, Jimpny," shouted the captain, "get up, sir. Don't hang in the rigging there like that."

The man moaned, and only clung the closer.

"Do you hear, sir?" cried the captain; but the man was livid, and as he gazed wildly up at Mark, the lad lowered himself down, thrust an arm round one of the ropes, and took a firm grasp of his collar.

"What's the matter, Mark?" cried the captain.

"He's going to faint, I think."

"Here, Small, up aloft with a rope there," cried the captain, "and make it fast round him."

The boatswain seized a coil of line and trotted to the other side of the deck. Mark saw him cross, but was astonished to see how soon he appeared at the mast-head.

"Hold tight, youngster," he said, "I'll soon give him his physic."

"What are you going to do?" cried Mark.

"Hang him. You'll see," said the boatswain with a chuckle.

Jimpny groaned and seemed to cling spasmodically to the shrouds as the great seaman slipped the end of the rope round him and made it fast. After which he passed the other end of the rope over a stay and lowered it down to the deck.

"Ready below?" he shouted.

"All right!" came up.

"You get a bit higher, youngster. That's your sort. Now, my London prime, let go with them hands."

"No, no," groaned the unfortunate man. "I dare not."

"Then I shall have to make you," roared the boatswain. "Heave ahead there!"

The rope tightened and there was a tremendous strain upon the man's chest, while, by a dexterous snatch, Small jerked one of the clinging hands free and thrust Jimpny off the shroud, making him swing round in the air, and this helped to jerk the other hand from its grip.

"Now you have him. Down he goes."

It was all so rapidly done that it took Mark's breath away. One minute the miserable man was clinging there half fainting, the next he was swinging in the air and being slowly lowered down to the deck.

"You don't want sarving that way, my lad," said the boatswain laughing. "Catch hold o' that rope and slide down. I'll go this way."

Mark shrank for a moment but seized the rope the next, and slid down so quickly that his hands felt uncomfortably warm, and he reached the deck as Billy Widgeon was unfastening the rope from round Jimpny's chest.

"Nice sorter sailor that, Captain Strong," said Mr Gregory sourly.

"Yes," said the captain quietly. "Don't send him aloft again. Let him help the cook."

"Help the cook! Do you want to poison us, sir?"

"No. The man has no nerve, but he may prove himself useful some other way."

"You are a brave boy," said a pleasant silvery voice behind Mark, and turning sharply round, it was to see the major's little daughter hurrying toward the cabin, in which she disappeared.

"There, go below," said the mate angrily, "and don't show yourself to me again for a week."

The stowaway rose and crept away, looking sideways at the sea, and somehow Mark could not help feeling sorry for his pitiful case.

Mark did not feel as if he had been brave, and as they sat at tea that evening and he looked across at where Mary O'Halloran was seated with her mother, he said to himself that if she knew all he had thought up aloft and what his sensations were she would have looked upon him as an impostor.

He felt so uncomfortable all that evening, and worried, that he longed to get away by himself, for the conversation seemed to be all about him.

"I should make a soldier of him," said the major to Captain Strong. "The only career for a brave boy, sir, in spite of the disgraceful management at the War Office."

Mark winced, and glanced towards those peaceful young gentlemen, the German agricultural students; but they were all three beaming upon him with their spectacles, looking about as round in the face and as inexpressive as so many enlarged buns.

He glanced at the little Scottish merchant, but he took snuff and nodded at him.

The stout doctor was looking at him and making notes in a memorandum book, as if he were writing down an account of the affair.

Mr Morgan was on deck; but Mr Gregory, as soon as their eyes met, deliberately winked at him.

He turned his gaze upon his father, to find that he was thoughtfully watching him; while, after receiving a friendly shake of the head from Mrs Major and a merry look from Mary, who seemed to be enjoying his confusion, as a last resource the lad looked at his mother, to find she had ready for him a tender smile.

"And she put three extra lumps of sugar in my tea," said Mark to himself. "I never felt so ashamed of anything in my life."

To make matters worse, the major began in a loud voice to talk about the heroic deeds of boys as found in history, and though the saloon cabin was hot enough before, it seemed now to Mark that it was tropical, and he was only too glad to go out on deck and wipe his streaming face in the company of Bruff and Jack the monkey, who, from becoming the companion of the dog, was willing enough to transfer some of his friendliness to the dog's master.

But even here he was not left in peace, for Billy Widgeon came up to compliment him on his climbing.

"Look ye here, Mr Strong, sir, you'll do it. You come up with me and we'll go right up to the main-topgallant cross-trees to-morrow. I'll see as you don't fall."

"Oh, bother the climbing!" cried Mark. "I wish there wasn't a bit of rigging in the ship."

"But we couldn't get on without rigging, Mr Mark, sir," said the little sailor taking the impatient words literally. "See how them sails is spread. Rigging's a fine thing, sir; so's a ship. You be a sailor, sir, and when you're a skipper you have me for your bosun. I aren't so big as old Small, but I'd put a deal o' heart into it, and keep the men up to the mark."

"Oh, I shall never be a captain," said Mark impatiently.

"I don't know so much about that, sir. All the lads says as it was wonderful the way you went up after the rat."

"After the what!"

"Rat, sir. The lads calls that stowaway chap the rat because he made hisself a hole down in the cargo. Lor' a me, think of a thing like that calling hisself a man!"

"But he has been half starved, Billy, and kicked about in the world. Perhaps if you'd been brought down as low you would have been as great a coward."

"Hah! I never thought o' that," said Billy scratching his head. "I say, Mr Mark, sir, how you do put things. But no, sir, you aren't right—leastwise not quite, you see; because if I'd been brought down like that, and felt as scared as he did, I wouldn't have let anyone know, fear o' being laughed at."

"You don't know and I don't know, so we can't discuss it," said Mark. "Here, what are you going to do?"

"Ketch Master Jack and take him to his snuggery. He's a-getting into bad habits since your dog's come aboard, sir. Monkeys is a sooperior sort o' animal, and the men's been talking it over."

"Talking it over?"

"Yes, sir. They says as a monkey's next door to a man. Not as I thinks so."

"Then what do you think, Billy?"

"Oh, I think he lives several streets off, sir; but the men thinks tother, and they says as though it's all werry well for a monkey to play with a dog and be friends, just as a man might; it's going down hill like for him to make a habit o' sleeping in a dog-kennel."

"Nonsense! the monkey's happy enough with the dog."

"So was a mate o' mine with the Noo Zeeling savages, after cutting away from his ship; but our old skipper said he ought to be ashamed of hisself for going and living that way, and them beginning to tattoo him in a pattern. He said he was a-degrading of hisself, and fetched him aboard, saying as if he wanted tattooing some of his messmates should mark his back with a rope's end. No, sir, we thinks a deal o' that monkey—our crew does—and we don't want to see him go wrong."

"What stuff! My Bruff is quite as intelligent an animal as your monkey. Suppose I said he should not associate with the ugly brute?"

"No, no, sir: Jack aren't ugly," said Billy Widgeon in protest. "He aren't handsome, but no one can't say as he's ugly; while that dog—"

"Oh, he isn't handsome either, but it's absurd to draw the line between the two animals like that."

"Well, sir, I tell you what the men says; and they thinks a deal o' Jacko, and looks after his morals wonderful. We do let him chew tobacco, though it don't agree with him, 'cause he will swaller it; but as to a drop o' rum, why, Old Greg nearly chucked a man overboard once for giving him a tot, and Small the boatswain stopped one chap's grog for a week for teaching Jack to drink. We thinks a deal of that monkey, sir."

"And I think a deal of my dog, and keep him a deal cleaner than Jack. But I don't want them to be together. Take Jack away."

"Werry sorry, Mr Mark, sir. Mean no offence," said Billy apologetically; "but it's the men, sir. They think a deal o' that monkey."

Billy went forward with a chain and a strap to where a kennel had been made for Bruff, by turning a flour barrel on its side and wedging it between two hencoops, and here, greatly to the vexation of the chickens, who lived in dread of Jack's long hairy arm and clever fingers, which were always stretching through the bars to pull their feathers, the monkey had—to use Billy's words—"just turned in." The barrel held the two animals tightly, and there they were cuddled up together in the most friendly manner, Jack with his head right in towards the end, Bruff with his long black muzzle to the front, and Jacko's tail moving up and down in regular motion as he breathed.

"Here! you've got to come home," cried Billy, making a dash at the monkey's legs, but he started back as quickly as he went forward, for Bruff sprang up, and, twitching his ears, burst into a furious fit of barking, while Jack got behind him and chattered his defiance.

"Well, that's a rum game," said Billy, rubbing his nose with a rusty link of the chain he held; "think o' them two sticking up for one another like that."

"Now, then, which is the more intelligent animal?" said Mark, laughing.

"Well, sir, I dunno, but if so be as you'd take your dog away—"

"No," said Mark quietly, "I sha'n't interfere. The monkey's happier there than down in your stuffy forecastle."

"Which I won't deny as it is stuffy, sir, far from it," said Billy; "but when you get used to the smell you don't mind, and I'm sure Jack likes it. So call away your dog."

"No," said Mark, "you may get him away if you like."

"Well, if so be as I must, I must," said the little sailor. "The men says they wants Jacko, and—Lor' a me!"

As he spoke he had gone down on one knee to reach into the barrel and get hold of Jack's leg, but at the angry remonstrative cry of the monkey as he felt it seized, Bruff made so furious an attack upon the sailor that he started back and rolled over, to find Bruff spring upon his chest.

"Hold hard, mate; don't bite. I gives up," said Billy quietly. "Call him off, Mr Mark, sir."

But the lad had already caught the dog by the collar, and dragged him away growling.

Just then Jack sprang out of the barrel chattering loudly, and bounded toward the main hatchway. Bruff followed as if understanding the call, and as the monkey sprang down the dog leaped after him, but did not descend the steps so cleverly as his quadrumanous friend, the fact being made plain to those on deck by a loud scratching and scuffling noise, followed by a heavy bump.

"That there's the dog," said Billy sitting up and scratching his ear. "His head's too heavy for going down them steps nose fust. Think we can catch Jack now?"

"No, that you will not," said Mark, laughing at his companion's troubled face. "Did Bruff frighten you?"

"S'pose he did, sir. He made me feel mortal queer for a minute. But I s'pose he wouldn't bite. Here, they may fetch the monkey theirselves," he continued, rising slowly; "I shan't try no more; and if his manners is spylte by 'sociating with dogs it aren't my fault."

Billy Widgeon went forward toward the forecastle in his calm even-tempered way, and Mr Morgan, who had been looking on from the poop-deck, came and joined Mark, to stand talking with him as they leaned over the side gazing up at the transparent starry sky, or down at the clear dark sea, while they listened to the rushing water as the great ship glided on under quite a cloud of canvas. The night was now dark, with the ship's sailing lanterns and the glow from the cabin-windows showing faintly and casting reflections upon the unruffled sea.

"Suppose we were to run on to another ship, Mr Morgan," said Mark at last, breaking a long silence. "What then?"

"If we kept such a bad look-out, and they did the same, most likely we should go to the bottom, perhaps both of us; but you turn in and leave all that to the watch."



CHAPTER TEN.

HOW BRUFF SOUNDED THE ALARM.

It was turning-in time, and after a couple of sleepy yawns Mark went to the cabin to find that nearly everyone had retired for the night.

As soon as he had climbed upon his shelf he found that it was going to be one of those hot uncomfortable nights when pillow and sheet get ticklish and make the skin feel itchy. The air he breathed was stifling, and for a long time he lay awake listening to the rippling of the water against the sides of the ship. But at last he slept deeply and dreamlessly, to be awakened by a hand laid upon his shoulder.

"Mark, my lad. Hist! don't make a noise."

"What's the matter, Mr Gregory?"

"Nothing much, my lad; only that dog of yours is somewhere below howling dreadfully. I want you to come and quiet him."

"Won't he lie down when you speak, sir?" said Mark drowsily.

"No. Come: wake up my lad!"

"All right, sir!"

"Nonsense, boy! you're going to sleep again. Come, now, rouse up!"

"All—yes, sir, I'm awake," said Mark, springing out of his berth. "I'll slip on something and come."

"I'll wait for you," said the mate dryly.

It was a wise decision, for Mark was so confused with drowsiness that he dressed mechanically, and suffered himself to be led out on to the deck where the comparative coolness made him a little more aware of what was going on.

"Now, are you awake?"

"Yes, sir. Quite awake now, sir," said Mark wonderingly. "What do you want? Is the ship going down?"

"Nonsense, boy!" said the mate laughing. "Why, you sleepy-headed fellow, didn't you understand what I said?"

"That I was to get up?" said Mark.

"Yes, and quiet your dog. There, do you hear that?"

A long piteous howl now fell upon Mark's ears, and recalling how the dog had gone below, he concluded that the animal was eager to escape on deck, but after his experience in falling down the steps he did not care to attack them again.

"What a noise!" cried Mark, as the long persistent howl came up. "Has he got stuck somewhere in the cargo?"

"No; he could not be, I think. Hark, there's the monkey too."

An angry chattering sound came up, followed by another howl and an angry bark.

"There, go down and quiet him. The men in the forecastle can't sleep."

Mark, now thoroughly awake, went sharply to the hatchway and descended, wondering why one of the sailors had not been sent down to quiet Bruff, and of course ignorant of the fact that they had one and all declined to go and face him, for certain reasons associated with the sharpness of his teeth and strength of his jaws, while the mate felt that it would be an easier way of solving the difficulty to send down the dog's master than to go himself.

It was very dark below, and the dog's howl came once more as Mark took a lantern from where it was swinging.

"Why, where can he be? Here, Bruff, Bruff!"

Mark dropped the lantern with a crash, and the candle within it flickered for a moment and went out, as a horrible thought struck him, and turning back to the ladder he sprang up, and was about to shout, but his better sense prevailed, and he ran to where the first-mate stood by the bulwarks talking to one of the men.

"Well, have you quieted him?"

"Mr Gregory! Here! I want to speak to you," said Mark huskily.

"What, has he bitten you?"

Mark dragged at his arm, and as soon as they were on the other side, panted out in a low whisper:

"There's something on fire down below."

"What!" shouted the mate in his surprise and horror. Then recovering himself, and knowing the risks attending a scare, "Poor boy!" he cried aloud. "Well, we shall be obliged to have that dog shot."

This quieted the men, who were advancing, and they went back to their places, while Mr Gregory walked Mark slowly by him to the cabin-door.

"Are you sure you smelt fire?" he whispered.

"Yes, sir, and there is smoke coming out from between those lower hatches."

"If I go down to make sure the men will take alarm and there may be a rush," said the mate coolly. "Here, go and rouse up Morgan quietly. Don't say what's wrong. I want him."

"And my father?" panted Mark.

"Be cool, boy; everything depends on coolness now. I'm going there."

In two minutes the captain and second-mate were out on deck, and Mark caught a glimpse of a pistol in his father's breast, and saw him slip two into the officers' hands.

"Gregory, Morgan," he said, "you stop with the men. You, Gregory, with the watch; you, Morgan, keep guard over the forecastle hatch."

"Ay, ay, sir."

The next minute the captain was below, Mark following him, and he heard him utter a deep sigh, almost a groan.

"Is it fire, father?" whispered Mark.

"Yes, my lad, somewhere down in the hold. Heaven help us! we are in a sore strait now. Who first noticed the fire?"

"It was Bruff, father; he is howling now."

"Poor dog! he must not be burned to death. Go and try and find him; but if you find there is any smoke or strange smelling vapour, come back at once."

"Yes, father."

"No, stop; I'll go with you. Where is the dog?"

"Somewhere below."

"Then he must wait. I have the ship and people to try and save."

"Then let me go, father."

"Well, go, my boy, and Heaven be with you."

The necessity for risking his life was put aside, for there was a scuffling of feet over the deck, and the dog came up whining and then tried to go back. Mark called to him, but it was of no use, and he rushed back a little way, barking now fiercely.

"I can't let him go," said Mark hoarsely, and he dashed after the dog; but before he had gone a dozen yards he kicked against something soft, and fell down, but only to scramble up again, for the mystery of the dog's behaviour was explained. His companion the monkey was half overcome by the vapour arising from the fire in the hold, and had crawled, it seemed, part of the way toward the hatch and then sank down, the dog refusing to leave him till he heard voices.

Mark dragged the poor, half inanimate animal to the hatch and carried him on deck, Bruff barking loudly till they were on deck, where a scene of excitement was rapidly growing.

"Silence!" the captain roared as Mark reached his side. "No man is to go near a boat save those who are picked out. Listen, my lads, and you gentlemen as well. I will have discipline observed. And mind this: I'm going to extinguish this fire and save the ship if possible. If it proves to be impossible we'll take to the boats."

"When it's too late," shouted one of the crew.

"No; when it is necessary. Mr Morgan, take three men and the passengers, and put provisions and water in the boats with compasses, and lower them down ready. As soon as each boat is ready place one of the gentlemen armed by her, and he is to shoot down any man who turns coward and rushes for the boats before orders are given. Now, sir, you have your orders. Go on."

"Ay, ay, sir," cried the second-mate. "Widgeon, Small, Smith, this way. Now, gentlemen, quick!"

There was a rush to follow the mate, while the rest of the men on deck stood in a knot whispering and excited, for the smell of burning now grew plainer and plainer, and a dense fume rose from the hatch.

"Now, Gregory, have up the men from the forecastle. Did they hear what was said?"

"Ay, ay, sir," came in a chorus as the men came scrambling up.

"But, captain—the ladies," cried Major O'Halloran excitedly.

"Well, sir, they will behave like English ladies should," said the captain loudly. "My wife will have charge of them, and they will be ready to go down to the boats slowly and in order. Mark, my boy, go to your mother's side and help her in every way you can."

Mark ran to where his mother was standing with Mrs O'Halloran and Mary, all half-dressed and trembling.

"I heard what your father said, Mark, my boy, and we are going to be calm. You can go back and help."

Mark ran back, to find his father giving orders sharply, but in as cool and matter-of-fact a manner as if there was no danger on the way. The pump handiest was rigged with the fire hose attached, and another was being got ready for supplying the buckets with which the men were preparing to deluge the flame.

"Now, Gregory, I must stay on deck. Go down and haul off the hatches. Find as near as you can where the fire seems to be before you begin to work. Remember one gallon well placed is worth five hundred thrown at random."

"You may trust me, Captain Strong," said the mate quietly. "Now then, two men—volunteers. Go down on your hands and knees as soon as we are below, and you will not feel the smoke."

The mate disappeared down the main hatch, and the men stood panting to begin, buckets filled, the hose distended, and one of the sailors holding his thumb tightly over the hole in the branch.

As the men went down the captain drew a long breath, for he realised how difficult it would be to apply the water effectively. The lower deck was growing more dense with smoke moment by moment, and the men who were to direct the water upon the flames would be compelled to stand below in that stifling heat.

It was an awful time, and every soul there realised the horror of the position—a hundred miles from the nearest land, the vessel all of wood and laden with a fairly inflammable cargo, which must be well alight by now to judge from the tremendous fume.

The captain's manner and his orders, however, gave some confidence to the men, who, as they waited, saw one boat lowered and heard it kiss the water, while directly after preparations were being made for the lowering of another.

"That's right," said the captain cheerily. "We have plenty of boats, so there is nothing to fear. Now, Mr Gregory, how is it below?"

There was a faint reply, evidently from a distance, and then a rush was heard, and the two men came up blinded, choking, and coughing violently.

"Where's Mr Gregory?" cried the captain.

"Here!" was the reply, and the first-mate's head appeared above the coamings of the hatchway.

"Well?"

"I can make out nothing, sir," said the mate, setting down his lantern, "only that the smoke is rising all over."

"Can't you localise the place?"

"No."

"Up with the hatches, then, and let's have the water in," cried the captain. "You take the deck now, and I'll go down. Three fresh men here."

Half a dozen stepped forward and part were selected, for the discipline of the ship told, and not a man so much as glanced at the boats now.

"Axes," said the captain, "and as soon as we haul off some hatches pass down that hose, Gregory, and begin handing down the buckets."

"Are you going to stay below, sir?"

"Yes, for a spell," said the captain; and Mark felt a swelling sensation at his breast as he saw his father go down into that suffocating fume to risk his life.

At that moment a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and turning sharply it was to see that the major was just passing him, laden with provisions for the next boat.

"What a soldier he would have made, my lad!" said the major, and passed on.

"He could not have done anything more brave," said Mark to himself, "if he had been a soldier;" and he ran close to the hatchway as the buckets of water were being handed steadily down, while the pumps clanked heavily with the labour given by willing hands.

"Bravo, my lads!" cried Mr Gregory excitedly. "Cheerily ho! Now then."

The men uttered a tremendous cheer, and another and another, and for the next half-hour there was the clanking of the pumps, and the loud slushing noise of the water being thrown below, and the hiss and rush of the constant stream from the hose.

The next hatches were thrown open, risky as the proceeding was; but without a current of air through the ship it would have been impossible for those below to have kept on with their suffocating task.

For the first quarter of an hour the captain and those with him worked like giants, and then came up, to be relieved by the mate and others, those who had been below now passing the water.

But it was blind and helpless work, and when this had been going on for about three-quarters of an hour, and the toilers were getting exhausted by the heat and smoke, Mr Morgan came up and announced that the boats were all ready, and this set four strong men at liberty to help with the water.

The second-mate went down at once, and in a quarter of an hour was relieved by the captain, who came up in turn, looking more stern than Mark had ever seen before.

"I can't help feeling that we are wasting our energy," he said to Mr Morgan. "We are not making the slightest impression."

"I'm afraid not," said the officer addressed. "The fire is increasing."

"Yes; and at any moment it may burst forth with a roar, Morgan," whispered the captain; "but for heaven's sake don't show that we think so."

Another anxious quarter of an hour passed, and matters were evidently growing worse. The water was passed down into the hold with unabated vigour, the men working desperately, but the pillar of smoke which rose from the hold grew thicker and thicker and half hid some of the flapping sails, for now it had fallen quite a calm. From time to time Mark had been to his mother, who was trying, with the major's wife, to whisper hope and encouragement to Mary, the poor girl being horrified at the idea of having to leave the ship in an open boat. But at last there seemed to be no hope to whisper from one to the other. Men grew more stern as they worked with savage energy; and in spite of the time which had elapsed since the first alarm there had not been a murmur nor a whisper of going to the boats, which floated on either side and astern.

But the captain and the two mates knew that before long there must be a rush of fire up through the great hatch, that the sails would immediately catch, and then the masts and rigging would rapidly be a blaze from stem to stern.

Mark had just returned from one of his visits to the front of the cabin, where the helpless women stood gazing at the dimly-seen crowd about the hatch, going and coming, and blotting out the dim light of the lanterns placed here and there. He was close to his father as once Mr Gregory came up, blinded with the smoke, and half suffocated.

"I can't hit upon the place," he said angrily. "We're wasting time, Captain Strong, for the smoke comes up all over, and we have never yet touched its source."

"No," said the captain gloomily; "but we must persevere."

"Oh, yes, sir, we'll persevere; never fear for that."

"If I could only think of what would be likely to light by spontaneous combustion, it might help us."

"I can help you to that," said the mate.

"The fire's gaining fast, sir," said Small, the boatswain, coming up; "Mr Morgan says we must have more hands below."

A thrill ran through the men, and one of them threw down his bucket.

"It's labour in vain, captain," he said. "Better keep our strength for the oars."

"Take up that bucket, sir," roared the captain furiously, "or—"

He did not finish his sentence but took a couple of strides forward, and the man resumed his work.

"I give orders here," said the captain in a loud deep voice. "Now, Mr Gregory, what is it?"

"Matches. A chest or two must have been sent by some scoundrel described as something else, and the pressure or crushing in of the case has ignited them."

"That does not help us, sir," said the captain bitterly. "I want to know where they are."

"Matches—did you say matches?" cried a highly-pitched voice; and Jimpny dropped his bucket and started forward.

"Back to your work!" cried one of the men, but the captain stopped him.

"Yes, matches, my man," he said, for there was a faint hope that Jimpny might know something.

"There were chests of 'em down below where I lay," said Jimpny eagerly. "I could smell 'em strong all the time."

"Smell them?" cried Mr Gregory.

"Yes, sir, onion phosphory smell, you know."

"Hurrah!" cried the first-mate excitedly. "Axes, my lad, and lanterns. We know now."

Three men started forward, but the captain caught the axe from one and a lantern from another, and was about to follow the first-mate when an uneasy movement among the crew arrested him, and he handed the axe and light to Mr Morgan.

"You go down," he said. "I may be wanted here."

It was a wise resolve, for it stayed a rush to the boats just at the moment when a chance was left of saving the vessel.

The captain's stern presence was, however, sufficient to keep the men back; and as the pumping and carrying of water ceased, all stood irresolute, listening to the blows of hatchets and the breaking of wood below.

All doubt as to the right place being found was ended the next minute, for a lurid light shot up from the hatch, and a shout arose from the men, who would have rushed away in panic but for the captain's words.

"Pump! pump!" he roared; "now then, pass on that water."

The hiss and splash of water arose directly from below, showing that the well-directed stream was now striking the fire.

There was a cheer from below, too, which sent a thrill through them; and for the next half-hour the water was sent down with the energy of despair. Then despair began to give way to hope, for the glare from below was fainter; then it grew paler still, and at last nothing but a dense white blinding smoke came up; and directly after the two mates, Small, and a couple of men came staggering up, to fall on the deck exhausted.

"Major O'Halloran!" shouted the captain, handing him his revolver, "take charge here, sir, till these men recover. Now, my lads, we've nearly won. Two men to go with me below."

The captain sprang down, followed by Billy Widgeon and Jimpny, while, as the men cheered and went on pumping, Mark ran to the cabin to return with spirits to revive the exhausted men.

It was a good idea, followed out by Mrs Strong and the major's wife, who handed refreshments to all the men in turn.

Mr Morgan was the first to rise to his feet and try to go down again, but he was too weak, and staggered away from the hatchway.

One of the men started forward, but Mark was before him.

"If my father can live down there, I can," he thought; and he dropped down to crawl through the smoke beside the leather hose of the fire pump, and this led him directly to where his father was directing the nozzle of the branch down through the broken deck, a dim lantern beside showing that a pillar of smoke was slowly rising up and away from the captain.

"That you, Mark? Go and tell them to stop sending down buckets; the hose will do now. The fire is mastered, and—"

He did not finish his sentence, for his voice was choking and husky as Mark ran to the other hatch and climbed up with his message.

It was received with a tremendous burst of cheering, the men who had been handing the buckets dashing them down and seizing each other's hands, while others indulged in a hearty hug.

For the danger was indeed past, and at the end of an hour the men, who had been working in relays, were able to leave off pumping just as the dawn was beginning to appear in the east, while an hour later, when it was broad daylight, the sun rose upon a thin blue thread of steam rising from the hold, and disclosed a group of haggard-looking, smoke-blackened, red-eyed men, utterly worn out by their efforts.

But the ship was saved, and the captain said, "Thank God!"



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

HOW JACK PROVED TO BE AN IMPOSTOR.

The damage could not be thoroughly ascertained, for a vast deal of mischief must have been done by the water poured into the hold, water which exercised the men's patience a good, deal before it was all cleared out; but the amount destroyed by fire when they worked down to the seat of the mishap was comparatively small, for the smouldering had produced a vast amount of smoke.

One little matter which took place toward the next evening, when order was once more restored, the boats in their places, and everyone assured that there was no chance of a fresh outbreak, deserves recording.

It was close upon dusk when, as Jimpny came slouching along the deck, he encountered the first-mate, and was about to turn aside; but Mr Gregory, who had been chatting with Mark, and patting Bruff, who had won the distinction of giving first warning of the fire, stopped him.

"I'm rather rough sometimes with the men, Jimpny, and I have been particularly hard on you. I can't say a good word for you as a sailor, but you have saved this ship by coming aboard, and if Captain Strong—"

"What about him?" said the captain. "Oh, I see; you were talking to Jimpny here. Ah! he has his strong points, you see, Gregory. I shall not forget what took place last night."

"Don't talk about it, sir," said the stowaway in a shamefaced fashion. "Only too glad to have recollected about the matches."

"Ah," said the mate; "and if you could only recollect the scoundrel who sent them, he should pay for the damage, eh, Captain Strong?"

"Yes," said the captain; "it was a cruel trick, for the sake of saving a few pounds. But, as I said before, Jimpny, I shall not forget last night's work."

"I thank you kindly, sir," said the man, "but I don't want nothing, only a chance to get on a bit."

"And that," said the captain, "you have found."

The damaged cargo was thrown overboard, the hold pumped dry, and exposed to the air as much as possible, and the risk they had all run began to be looked upon as a thing of the past. But there was one personage, if he could be so styled, who did not recover quite so quickly from the troubles of that night, and that was Jacko, who suffered so severely from the overpowering nature of the smoke in the hold that he became quite an invalid, and had to be brought up on deck by Billy Widgeon, and laid upon a wool mat in the sun.

The poor animal was very ill, but his ludicrous aspect and caricature-like imitation of sick humanity excited laughter among passengers and men. He used to lie perfectly still, with his face contracted into comical wrinkles; but his eyes were bright and always on the move, while, if Bruff were away from his side for five minutes, he would begin to chatter uneasily, and then howl till the dog returned, to take hold of his arm, and pretend to bite him, ending by lying down and watching him with half-closed eyes.

After a while Bruff would utter a remonstrant growl, for Jack would set to work trying to solve the problem why the dog's curly coat would not lie down smooth and straight; and in his efforts to produce that smoothness that he was accustomed to see upon his own skin, he sometimes tugged vigorously enough to cause pain.

Mark was watching the pair one day, when Billy Widgeon came up.

"Why don't he get better?" said Mark. "He ought to be all right by now."

Billy Widgeon looked at the monkey, which seemed to be watching them both intently, and mysteriously drew Mark aside.

"That there settles it, Mr Mark, sir," he said.

"Settles what?"

"'Bout his being so ill, sir. I see it all just then in his wicked old eyes."

"I don't understand you, Billy."

"Don't you? He's a-gammoning on us, sir."

"Gammoning us?"

"Yes, sir. That's his artfulness. He likes to be carried down to his snug warm bed, and carried up again, and set here in the sun, and being fed with figs and sweet biscuits and lumps of sugar. It's my 'pinion that he's as well as you and me."

"No, no," said Mark. "I believe the poor thing is very ill."

"I don't, sir, and if you'll let me, I'll cure him in a minute."

"But you'd hurt him."

"Well, sir, I might hurt his feelings, but I wouldn't hurt him nowheres else."

"What will you do, then?"

"Here, hold hard," said Billy in a whisper. "Don't talk so loud; he's a-watching of us."

Mark glanced in the direction of the monkey, and sure enough the animal had drawn himself up a little, and was peering at them over the dog's back, as the latter lay down at full length in the sunshine.

"That's his artfulness, Mr Mark, sir," whispered Billy. "I've had the keer of that there monkey ever since he come aboard, and have stood by him many's the time when the men was up to their larks, and wanted to make him pick up red-hot ha'pennies, and to give him pepper pills to eat. Why, there was one chap used to spend hours setting traps for him. What d'yer think he used to do?"

"I don't know," replied Mark.

"Well, I'll just tell you, sir: he used to shove a little thin old file through a cotton reel, and make a drill of it. You know what a drill is, sir?"

"Yes, I've seen it used," said Mark; "worked to and fro with a steel bow and catgut."

"That's him, sir; only my messmate hadn't no steel bow and no catgut, but he made hisself a sort of bow out of a bit o' cane and some string, and then he used to get a few nuts and stick 'em one at a time in a crack, and drill holes in the sides. When he'd done this, he used to sit o' nights and pick all the kernels out, a bit at a time, with a pin, just the same as you used to do with the periwinkles, sir."

"That I never did," said Mark, laughing, as he seated himself outside the bulwark, and gazed down in the clear water while he listened.

"Well, I used to, sir, and werry nice they is."

"I daresay, but go on."

"Well, sir, he used to pick all the kernels out, and when they was empty, fill 'em up with snuff, and plug the holes with a bit o' tar."

"What for?"

"That's just what I'm a-coming to, sir, only you keeps a-interrupting so. Then he used to put these here nuts full o' snuff in one pocket, and some good uns in the other, and wait till he see Jack. Fust time he did it, I didn't know there was any game on, and I see him give Jack a nut. He cracked it, and ate the kernel, and then my mate give him another, and he cracked and ate that, and held out his hand for more. This time he give him one full o' snuff, but Jack tasted the tar as stopped up the hole, and was too many for him. He wouldn't crack it, but chucked it away. I thought it was only a bad one, for I never smelt the snuff; but what does my mate do but begs a bit o' wheeling sacks o' the steward."

"A bit of what?" said Mark.

"Wheeling sacks, sir; what they fastens up letters with."

"Oh, sealing wax," cried Mark.

"Yes, sir, I said so—sealing wax, and stops up the holes with that. Jack didn't taste that, and first time he cracks one o' them bad uns he gets his mouth full o' snuff, and there he was a-coughing and sneezing for 'bout half an hour, while as soon as he see as it was a trick, he jumps on my back and bites me in the neck, and runs away to get up in the rigging and swear—oh my eye, but he did swear!"

"Nonsense, Billy! a monkey can't swear."

"But he did, sir. He went on calling us all the names he could lay his tongue to in monkey, and whenever my mate give him nuts again, he used to crack 'em on the deck with a marline-spike. Then my mate used to try it on with other tricks, but I wouldn't have it, and I've had no end o' rows with my messmates on account o' that little chap, for I've got to love him like a brother a'most—ah, more than you do your dog; but he's that howdacious artful that I get ashamed on him. He aren't got no more morals than a lobster, as would pinch his best friend's finger off as soon as look at him."

"And Jack bites you, then, same as he would anyone else?"

"More, sir; ever so much more. Why, I'm all over his bites."

"And so you think he's shamming?" said Mark.

"I'm sure of it, and I'm a-going to cure him."

"What will you do?"

"Well, I shall try him easy-like at first, sir, and if that don't do I shall try rope's end."

"No, no, do it by kindness, Billy," said Mark.

"Well, that would be kindness, sir. Monkey's only a monkey, but even a monkey ought to be taught to have some morals. You come along o' me."

Mark leaped down, and followed the little sailor back to where Jack was lying watching them; and as soon as they reached the spot, Billy bent down, placed his hands upon his knees, and poured forth a stream of the most voluble vituperation ever invented by man. He called the monkey all the lazy, idle, good-for-nothing swabs, lubbers, and humbugs possible, while the effect was droll in the extreme.

At first the little animal chattered at him, then he shook his head, then he grew angry, and at last curled himself up, covering his head with his long arms, and howled piteously.

"That's a-touching of him up, sir," said Billy. "He knows it, you see. Why, you miserable little black-faced, bandy-legged sneak," he continued, addressing the monkey, "what's in my mind is to—"

Woof!

Billy Widgeon made a bound, and caught a rope, by whose help he swung himself up into the rigging.

"Lay hold o' that dog, Mr Mark, sir," he cried.

For Bruff, who had been lying down when this tirade began, slowly raised his head, then placed himself in a sitting posture, and ended by staring at Billy, till Jack gave a more piteous howl than any he had before uttered, when the dog gave vent to one low growling bark, and sprang at the sailor.

"Ah!" said Billy, as soon as Bruff was quieted down, "you see he takes his part. Being a dog he don't know no better, sir. I must try another way."

Billy slowly swung himself down, displaying wonderful muscular strength of arm as he did so, and beckoning Mark aside he continued:

"I'm going to show you now, sir. Can you make your dog howl?"

"Oh, yes, Billy, easily."

"How will you do it?"

"Shut him up somewhere, or chain him, and then call him. As soon as he finds he can't get to me, he'll make noise enough."

"That's your sort," said Billy. "You bring him along, then."

Mark called the dog, who leaped up and bounded to him, and five minutes later he was chained up under the main hatch and left, while Billy led the way back to the deck, and helped Mark up to a place of vantage, where they could see the monkey without being seen, and at the same time make the dog hear.

"Now then, Mr Mark, sir. You call old Bruff."

Mark obeyed, and there was a sharp bark in reply, then a volley of barks, a rattling of the chain, and, on the call being repeated, quite a howl.

At the first bark Jack turned his head and listened, then, as the barking continued more angrily, he raised his head and looked in the direction from whence the sounds came. At the first howl he went upon his hands and knees, and uttered an uneasy kind of noise, but threw himself down again, and laid his head close to the deck, shuffling about uneasily.

Then there was peace for a few moments.

"Call him again, Mr Mark, sir," whispered Billy.

Mark obeyed, and, leaning down, uttered the dog's name in a suppressed way, which sounded as if it came from a great distance.

The result was a burst of barking, followed by a series of the most piteous howls, wild and prolonged, such as an animal might utter who was suffering from some terrible torture.

"That'll fetch him," whispered Billy; and he seemed to be right, for, as the howling continued, Jack grew restless. He sat up, listened, threw himself down, turned over, then on the other side, and ended by bursting out into a fit of chattering, and going at full speed along the deck to the hatchway, down which he disappeared at a bound, old practice teaching him that he would drop upon the steps, and his experience being right.

"Come along," said Billy chuckling. "I told you so, Mr Mark, sir; I told you so. I thought it was his games."

Billy Widgeon took up the sheepskin rug, and carried it down below in the forecastle, while, when Bruff was let loose, and the two animals returned on deck, Jack walked slowly to his sunny corner, and stood staring about him as if unable to make out what it all meant, ending by lying down on the bare deck.

But this did not seem to afford any satisfaction, and as if realising that his companion was quite well once more, Bruff charged at him, and rolled him over. Jack retaliated by getting hold of his curly coat with both hands, and making a playful bite at his neck, when the game went on, and for the next half-hour they were frisking and bounding about the deck till they were tired, and Bruff found a sunny spot for a nap, as Jack had sought refuge among the sails.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

HOW MARK FIRST TASTED JUNGLE.

A hot but uneventful voyage succeeded, during which the passengers were well roasted in the Suez Canal, and saturated with the steamy moisture of Ceylon, where Mark stared with wonder at the grandees, whose costume strongly resembled that of some gorgeously-decked little girl of fifty years ago dressed up for a party.

Then there was a glimpse of Sumatra, and a stay at busy bazaar-like Singapore, with its shipping of all nations from great steamers down to Malay praus, with their bamboo sides and decks, and copper-coloured wide-nostrilled Malays in little flat military caps, and each wearing the national check sarong, so much after the fashion of a Highlander's tartan, baju jacket, and deadly-looking kris.

"Yes, these are Malays, Mark," said Mr Morgan as they stood gazing over the side at the hundreds of vessels of all sizes. "Clever sailors they are too."

"And pirates?" said Mark.

"Yes, whenever they can get the chance with some one weaker than themselves, but our cruisers have made their trade less profitable than it used to be."

"Should you think these are pirates?" said Mark, pointing towards one particularly swift-looking prau just gliding out of the harbour.

"Very likely," said the second-mate. "They are traders and fishermen, and sometimes all's fish that comes to their net. Not very formidable looking enemies, though."

"They've no guns," said Mark, looking rather contemptuously at the quaint craft.

"Not visible," said the second-mate, "but I daresay they may have two or three down below ready for mounting as soon as they get to sea."

"Very large guns?"

"No; small brass pieces which they call lelahs, and which send a ball weighing perhaps a pound."

"But pirates would not dare to attack a great ship like this," said Mark.

"Oh, yes, they would, for these Malays are fighting men, who always go armed, while they know that our merchantmen, as a rule, are not. But there is not much to fear. They generally attack weak or helpless vessels, and most of their strongholds have been rooted out."

Mark watched the departing prau with no little eagerness as he recalled accounts which he had read of attacks by pirates, poisoned krises, and goodly vessels plundered by the bloodthirsty men of Moslem creed, who looked upon the slaying of a Christian as a meritorious act.

As he gazed after the retiring prau, with its dusky crew, a vessel, similar in shape and size, and which had been lying close alongside of the Petrel, heaved up her anchor and set sail.

"Where are they likely to be going?" Mark asked.

"Trading among the islands. They are rare fellows for pushing their way in a slow fashion, but are not such business people as the Chinese."

"One might have thought that this was China," said Mark, as he gazed ashore at the celestial quarter, and noted the great junks manned by Chinamen lying anchored here and there.

The stay at Singapore was not long. The three German students bade the passengers good-bye politely, and took their departure, beaming upon everyone through their spectacles, making quite a gap at the saloon table, though they were not much missed, for they had all been remarkably quiet, only talking to each other in a subdued manner, and always being busy with a book a piece, whose contents were tremendous dissertations on agricultural chemistry, all of which they were going to apply out in Queensland as soon as they got there.

Then one bright morning, well supplied with fresh provisions, and, to Mark's great delight, with an ample store of fruit—from bananas, of three or four kinds, to pine-apples, the delicious mangosteen, and the ill-odoured durian, with its wooden husk, delicate custard, and large seeds—the ship continued her course.

The sea was like crystal, and with the sun hot, but not to discomfort, and a soft breeze blowing, the great vessel glided gently eastward. It was a trifle monotonous, but this troubled Mark in only small degree, for there was always something fresh to take his attention. Sea-birds were seen; then some fish or another reared itself out of the limpid sea, and fell back with a splash. Then a shoal of some smaller kind rippled the surface as they played about, silvering the blue water with their armoured sides.

Small the boatswain and Billy Widgeon rigged up tackle for the lad to fish; and he fished, but caught nothing.

"But then, you know, you might have ketched real big fish," said the little sailor encouragingly, "because, you see, you know they are there."

It was a consolation, but not much, to one who has tried for days to capture something or another worthy of being placed by the cook upon the captain's table.

And so three days of slow progress passed on, after which the progress grew more slow, and ended in a complete calm, just as they were a few miles north of a verdant-looking island, whose waving palms, seen above and beyond a broad belt of dingy mangroves, looked particularly tempting to those who had been cooped up so long on shipboard, where, now that the breeze had sunk, it seemed insufferably hot.

"I suppose it can't be hotter than this, Mr Gregory, can it?" asked Mark, soon after noontide on the second day of the calm.

"Hotter than this?" said the first-mate with an assumed look of astonishment. "Do you hear him, Morgan? He calls it hot!"

"I say, captain," said the major, "how long's this calm going to last?"

"Impossible to say," said the captain. "I am hoping for a fresh breeze at sundown, but I dare not prophesy."

"Well, then, let's have the boat out and manned, and two or three of us go ashore with our guns, to see if we can't shoot something."

The captain hesitated, looked at the sky, at the offing, studied his glass, and then said that there was no prospect of wind before night, and if the major liked, they would make up a little party and go.

"We can get some handsome birds for specimens if we get none for food," said the major, "and perhaps we may get hold of a snake, or a big lizard, to make into a stew."

"Stewed lizard! Ugh!" ejaculated Mark.

"And why not, young fellow?" cried the major. "Once upon a time, as the geologists tell us, the lizard and the fowl were very much alike, only they divided, and while one went on growing more like a bird, the other lost his wings and the feathers in his tail, and ran more upon the ground. Now, I'll be bound to say, sir, that if I shot a lizard, an iguana, or something of that kind, and made it into a curry, you would not be able to tell the difference. Come, captain."

"Oh, I'm not coming," said the captain. "I shall stay aboard and look after my two wives—Mark's mother and the ship. You youngsters can go and enjoy yourselves. You'll go with them, Gregory."

"No, no, I'll stop with the ship," said the first-mate.

"Then it will be to keep me company," said the captain, "for I shall not stir."

"Oh, well then, sir, I will take a run," said Mr Gregory.

"You'll go too, Morgan?"

"I should enjoy it much, sir," said the second-mate.

"All right, then. I'll have the gig lowered and manned. The sooner you are off the better."

"We shall want a man or two to carry the bags," said Mr Gregory. "I'll have Small."

"And I'll have Widgeon," said Mr Morgan, "in case we find ducks."

"I'll have Bruff," said Mark to himself.

"Look here," said the captain; "this island seems to be uninhabited, and it may be a foolish precaution, but I should take it. The crew will have pistols, and I should advise you all to take your revolvers."

"Hot enough carrying our guns," said the first-mate.

"Never mind, sir," said the major. "I remember once in the neighbourhood of Malacca, how a party of us officers landed to get a shot at the snipe, and we were surprised by a party of copper-coloured scoundrels. By George, sir, there we were with nothing better than snipe-shot, sir, to defend ourselves against as murderous-looking a set of haythens as ever stepped."

"What did you do, Major O'Halloran?" said Mark.

"Bolted, sir—I mean we retreated through the bog. Murder! that was a retreat. Take your weapons, gentlemen, and young Strong here shall carry my revolver."

"No," said the captain, "carry your own, major. I'm going to lend him mine."

The preparations did not take long, and soon after the little party were being rowed over the deep dark blue water toward the lonely island, whose shores were right and left of a rocky nature, save in the direction they had chosen, where a slight indentation that could hardly be called a bay offered a splendid landing-place, being a curved stretch of soft white sand.

All at once the water seemed to change colour from dark blue to pale green, and on looking over the side the little party found that, instead of gazing down into the black depths, they were gliding over rocky shallows illumined by the sun, which showed them sea gardens full of growths of the most wondrous shapes, among which startled shoals of fish glided, while others, unmoved by the coming of the boat, played about, showing their armoured sides dazzling with orange and scarlet, blue and gold.

Mark could have stopped for hours, content to gaze down into the lovely transparent waters, but the boat glided on and soon afterwards touched the shore.

"There, my lads," said the first-mate, taking out a big india-rubber pouch of tobacco and pitching it to one of the men, "there is not a great deal of tide, but take care to keep the boat afloat. You can smoke and sleep, but take it in turns, so as to have some one on the watch."

The party sprang out, and the men left in the boat looked rather glum till the major supplemented the first-mate's gift by handing his cigar-case to another of the men.

"One minute," he said. "I think there are eight cigars in there, and I should like one for myself. I'll have that, and then you four men will have a cigar and three-quarters apiece, and you must divide them according to taste."

As this was going on, Mark stood gazing toward the ship, and as he looked he saw a white handkerchief waved.

It was too far off to be sure who waved that handkerchief, but it was either Mrs Strong, the major's wife, or Mary O'Halloran.

"It doesn't matter which," thought Mark, and taking off his cap he waved it in return.

"Now, gentlemen," said the first-mate, "load away, and then we had better decide where to go."

"Not necessary," said the major, closing the breech of his piece and giving the stock an affectionate slap.

"Not necessary?" said Morgan.

"No, sir. This is an uninhabited island, where there are no roads and nature has it all her own way. We shall have to go which way we can."

They struck inland, and the major's words, the result of old experience, proved to be true, for as they reached the belt of jungle, which came within some fifty yards of the shore, it was to find their course stayed by a dense wall of verdure that was literally impassable, the great trees being woven together with creepers, notable among which there was the rattan cane, which wound in and out and climbed up and down in a way that was almost marvellous.

"This is pleasant," said the major.

"Oh, we can get through, sir," said Mark. "Let me go first."

"Do," said the major, with a smile at Gregory, and as the lad pressed forward, "Experientia docet," he whispered. "I've been in a jungle before now."

"You can't get through here without an axe to cut your way," said Mark at the end of five minutes, as he stood perspiring and panting, gazing half angrily at the dense thicket.

"Thank you for the information, my lad," said the major smiling; "we knew that before."

"But the island can't be all like this?" said Gregory.

"Oh, yes, it can, my dear sir," said the major. "Islands can be anything out here in the tropics, especially near the Ayquator. Now look here: if we want to get inland—as we do, we must find the mouth of the first river and follow the sides of the stream."

"Sure, sor," said Billy Widgeon, "we passed that same about a hundred yards back, and the bosun and I knelt down and had a dhrink."

The major turned upon little Billy, who had spoken with a broad Irish accent, and stared at him, sticking his glass in one eye so as to have a better look.

"Look here, sir," he said; "you're not an Irishman, and that's a bad imitation of the brogue. Do you hear? You are not an Irishman, I say?"

"Sorra a bit, sor."

"Then is it making fun of me you are?" cried the major, suddenly growing broad in turn.

"No, sir, not I," said Billy, looking as serious as a judge and scratching his head the while.

"Then why did you talk like that?"

"I dunno, sor."

"You don't know, you scoundrel?"

"No, sir. I once lived in Ireland for a whole year, and we used to talk like that; and I suppose it was hearing you say Ayquator, sir, turned on the tap."

Gregory turned away so as to ask the second-mate a question just then, and they both looked very red in the face as the major coughed, blew out his cheeks, and ended by clearing his throat and speaking as a drill-sergeant does.

"You'd better be careful, sir. Now, gentlemen," he added, "suppose we go on."

"I say, bosun," said Billy, rubbing one ear until it was quite red, "what have I been a-doing of?"

"Getting your tongue in a knot, my lad. Come on."

He led the way and Billy Widgeon followed, talking to himself and evidently thoroughly puzzled as to the meaning of the major's attack.

But now the attention of all was attracted by the little trickling stream which made its way from beneath some low growth, and lost itself directly in the sand; but though the way was blocked up it was evident that here was a road into the island, for the dense wall of verdure took somewhat the form of an arch; and as soon as a way had been forced through, Bruff dashed on ahead, splashing about and barking excitedly.

"That's not the way to get sport, is it?" said Morgan. "Hadn't we better call the dog back?"

"Yes, call him," said the major.

Mark called, but the dog had evidently gone beyond hearing, so they followed, finding themselves in an opening about sixty feet wide as soon as they had passed the arch, and with the sky above them, while they were walking in the gravelly zigzagging and winding bed of a little river, with a wall of mighty trees to right and left.

It was evident that at times there was a tremendous current here, and that the whole place was flooded after the heavy rains, for the first-mate pointed out, some five feet from the ground, a patch of dry grass and broken twigs, matted together just as they had been washed down the river and left there from the last flood, while now the stream was reduced to a trickling rivulet, with a pool here and a pool there, some of which were deep and, from the swirling motion of the water, evidently contained big fish.

There was plenty of room for walking at the sides of the gravelly stream, and after progressing some little distance inland, at the bottom of what was like a channel, whose walls were huge tree-trunks towering to a great height, the party began to look out for birds.

"Phew! it's hot work," said Morgan, wiping his face, for the heat in that airless chasm was terrific. "I don't think we shall get many birds."

"I'm not going to try," said Gregory, "for it's neck-breaking work staring up in the tops of these trees."

"We'll find some ducks soon," said the major, "or some ground pigeons. You leave it to me. But where's that dog?"

There was no answer, for evidently no one knew. One thing was certain, however, Bruff had ceased barking, and therefore was not likely to disturb any game that might be on the way.

But though they progressed nearly a mile inland not a bird was visible. There was the loud whizzing whirr of innumerable cicadas, and once or twice they heard a piping cry, after that all was stifling heat and silence.

Their progress was very slow, for after finding there was not much chance of getting a shot the various members of the party began to inspect the objects around them. The major lit his cigar, Mr Gregory examined the sand to see if it contained gold, Mr Morgan tried to find crystals among the pebbles, Mark gazed up at the patches of ferns and orchids among the branches of the trees, and Small and Billy Widgeon took a great deal of interest in the various pools they passed, but found no fish, for at their coming the occupants of the pools took fright and stirred up the sand and mud so that the water became discoloured.

"And I lays as they're eels," said Billy Widgeon, as he carried on a discussion with Small.

"And I says they're big jacks or pikes," replied the boatswain; "but I want to know wheer they're going to feed the beasts."

"Feed what beasts?" said Mark, who was listening to their dispute and gazing down into a good-sized pool where the water was still in motion.

"These here beasts, sir," said Small with a grin. "All on us. These canvas bags is heavy, and I want to see the weight o' the wittles distributed. Much easier to carry that way, and the bottles pitched overboard."

"Hist!" whispered Billy Widgeon, who was peering through some bushes where the little river made a curve.

"Whatch yer found, Billy?"

"Don't make a row, and come and look here, Mr Mark, sir. Here's such a whacking great effet, same as used to be in our pond at home."

Mark hurried to his side, followed by Small.

"Why, it's a 'gator," the latter said as he reached the spot where there was an extensive pool, quite undisturbed, for the screen of bushes had hidden it from the passers-by.

"A crocodile!" said Mark as he gazed excitedly into the clear water at the plainly defined shape of the little saurian, for it was not above four feet long.

"Wait a minute," whispered Billy; "I'll give him such a wonner in the skull," and picking up a heavy piece of stone from the many lying in the half-dry river-bed he pitched it with fairly good aim just above the basking reptile.

There was a dull plunge; the water seemed to be all alive for a few minutes, swirling and eddying, and sending rings to the edge, and then it began to subside, but it was discoloured now, and evident that the one crocodile they had seen was not without companions.

"Now, it's my 'pinion," said Billy, "that if you'd come fishing instead o' shooting, and rigged up rods and lines and tried for these here things in these ponds, you'd have had some sport."

"But what would you have baited with?" said Mark, laughing.

"I d'know," said Billy Widgeon. "Yes, I do," he continued, "dog. They say as 'gators and crockydiles is rare and fond o' dog."

At that moment, by an odd coincidence, there was a piteous howling heard, followed directly after by a shot and then by another.

"Major's shot your dog, Mr Mark," said the boatswain, with a comical look at the captain's son, as they hurried on.

"Bruff wouldn't have howled before he was hurt," said Mark excitedly. "They've shot some wild beast. Why didn't we keep up with them?"

"Hope it ar'n't lions or tigers," said Billy, as he panted on under the load of a bag which contained certain bottles of beer.

"No lions or tigers in an island like this," said Small oracularly. "Oh, there they are."

A turn in the river-bed had brought Mark and his companions in sight of the major and the two mates about a hundred and fifty yards away. Mr Morgan was kneeling down by a pool doing something to the dog, while the major and Gregory looked on.

"I was right," said Small; "they have shot your dog, Mr Mark."

At that moment Bruff caught sight of his master, and uttering a loud bark, he started off from where he stood and came limping on three legs towards Mark, holding his right fore-paw in the air and whimpering piteously.

"Why, Bruff, old chap, what is it?" cried Mark, as the dog came up holding out his leg as if for sympathy; "have they shot you? Why, no; he has been in a trap."

"No," said the boatswain, examining the dog's leg, "he's been fighting and something has bitten him. Wild pig, for a penny."

"Here, Mark, my lad," cried the major, "you nearly lost your dog."

"What's been the matter?" cried Mark.

"A crocodile got hold of him by this pool."

"How, how!" cried Bruff, throwing up his head and giving vent to a most dismal yell, as if overpowered by the recollection.

"Ah, I said as they likes dog," said Billy Widgeon sententiously.

Bang, bang!

Then, as the smoke rose up slowly after the discharge of both barrels of his piece, Morgan exclaimed:

"See that?"

"See it! I nearly felt it," cried the major, drawing back from the edge of the disturbed pool, from which a good-sized crocodile, evidently pressed by hunger, had charged out at his legs. "Did you hit him?"

"Yes, I must have hit him both times, for he swerved at the first shot, and turned back at the second; but small-shot can't do much harm to one of these scaly-hided ruffians."

"Well, I should like to kill that brute," said the major, looking ruffled, and speaking as if he thought that a great insult had been offered to an officer in Her Majesty's service. "Think it was the one which laid hold of the dog?"

"How, how!" cried Bruff piteously, and then, trotting on three legs to the water's edge, he began to bark furiously.

"Call him away," cried Morgan excitedly, cocking his gun and following the dog; "that pool swarms with the beasts."

"Here, Bruff, Bruff, Bruff!" cried Mark.

But his cry would have been too late, even if the dog had obeyed, for at that moment the water was parted and a hideous head with dull gleaming eyes appeared, as one of the monsters made a rush at Bruff.

Morgan was ready for him, though, and quick as thought, from a distance of not more than four yards, he poured the contents of his gun right in the reptile's face, following it up with the second barrel.

To the delight of all, the monster gave a bound and made a clumsy leap out on to the dry ground, where it lay beating the water with its tail, giving it resounding blows, and only lying still to begin again.

"Shall I give him another shot?" said Gregory.

"No; half his skull is blown away," said the major. "Let him die."

"Put the game in the bag, sir?" said Billy respectfully.

"Ask Mr Morgan," said the major haughtily. "I did not fire the shot."

Small took out his great pocket-knife, and cut a rattan to a length of about twenty feet, and after trimming off the leaves readily contrived a running noose at the end, then cleverly contrived to noose one leg as well. A sharp snatch drew the noose tight, and at the boatswain's suggestion everyone took hold of the cane and the struggling reptile was hauled right away from the water to die, proving a goodly weight though it was not above nine feet long.

"There, Bruff, old man," said the boatswain, "suppose you give one of his paws a nip to serve him out. It would be only fair. Shall I give him the knife, sir?"

"No," said Mr Gregory, "the brute is dying. Good heavens! what's that?"

It was unmistakably a shot, and not fired with a fowling-piece, but evidently from some good-sized gun.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

HOW THERE WAS A STARTLING SURPRISE.

"What in the world is that?" cried Gregory.

"That sir?" said the major importantly. "That was the report of a gun."

"Good gracious, man, I know that," said the mate.

"There again," cried Morgan.

"Ship firing signals for recall," said the major. "We are wanted aboard."

"Nonsense, sir!" said Gregory tartly. "We have no guns that would make such a report as that. What?"

This last was to Morgan, who whispered something to him excitedly.

"Pooh! nonsense, man!" cried Gregory again. Just then there was another shot, and another, and the first-mate's face turned of a muddy hue.

"It's fighting, as sure as I'm a soldier," said the major nodding his head.

"You're right, Morgan," said the first-mate hoarsely.

"Come along, quick! There's something wrong aboard the ship."

"Aboard our ship—the Petrel?" cried Mark, with a curious choking sensation coming upon him, and his heart beating rapidly.

"There, don't turn like that, my lad," said Morgan kindly, as he clapped the lad on the shoulder. "We only fancy there may be something wrong, and I hope we have been deceived."

"Do you think there will be a fight, Gregory?" said the major excitedly.

"Heaven forbid, sir!" said the first-mate solemnly.

"What are you talking about, sir? and you all the time with a double gun in your fist. Why, it warms the very blood in my veins."

"You see I'm not a fighting man, sir," said Gregory sternly. "Yes," he continued, as he saw the major give him a peculiar look, and reading his meaning, "you're quite right, sir, I am white, and I feel afraid— horribly afraid, as I think of what may be happening to those poor women left on board, and my poor captain and our men."

"And I forgot all about my wife and child," cried the major, increasing his pace, as he wiped the perspiration from his brow. "Come on, gentlemen, for heaven's sake!"

They were already going along at a double, where the rough river-bed would allow, but the progress was very slow, while, though they had come along leisurely, it was astounding how great a distance they had placed between them and the boat.

"For heaven's sake, come on, gentlemen!" said the major again, and at another time his remark would have seemed very Irish and droll, for he was last but one in the little party, and hard pressed to keep up in the intense heat of the inclosed and stifling place.

"Ahoy!" came from ahead just then.

"Ahoy!" answered the mate, who was leading, with Mark next; and the next minute they were face to face with the four men who had been left with the boat. "What is it, my lads?" he panted.

"Pirates, sir, praus!"

"Nonsense!" cried the mate fiercely.

"'Strue as true, sir. We was all half dozing in the boat when we heared a shot, and saw a prau alongside of the old Chicken, and another running up fast, and then there were more firing went on."

"And we ashore!" muttered the mate. "Keep on, my men. What next?"

"Don't know, sir," panted the spokesman; "we come on after you, sir."

"And left the boat?"

"She's got the grapnel out, sir, on the sands."

"But the men in the prau—they could see her."

"Oh, yes, sir; they could see her, sir."

"Man, man! what have you done? They will fetch her off and we shall be unable to follow."

"Don't blame the man, Gregory, but keep on. We may be in time to save her. Let me go first, I can run."

Mr Morgan sprang to the front, and with his gun at the trail ran on ahead at a pace that seemed marvellous; but Mark followed as rapidly as he could, Mr Gregory next, then the major, and the men in single file.

Mark ran on with a horrible feeling of despair growing upon him as he thought of those on board; his heart beat; there was the hot suffocating sensation growing more painful at his throat, and to his misery, in spite of his efforts, the ground was so rough and stone-strewn that he was being left behind, while Mr Morgan had disappeared from his view round one of the sharp turns of the river-bed.

All at once he remembered what he had before forgotten, namely, that he was wearing a belt and pouch, and that in the soft leather holster attached there was the revolver his father had lent him.

He had never fired such a weapon in his life, but he had seen this one handled and loaded, and taking it out, he hardly knew why in his excitement, he cocked it, and ran on with the piece in his hand.

Directly after he found himself close to the low growth through which the little river trickled to lose itself in the sand, and through the opening now broken larger by the passage of so many of his companions he forced his way out and stood upon the sands.

The sight which met his eye took from him the power of action for the moment, and he stood there panting, gazing straight away.

Out at sea lay the great Petrel with a couple of praus alongside, and as far as he could see, in his quick glance, the deck was covered with swarthy figures. But there was a scene being enacted close at hand which made him turn giddy, and the blood seemed to run to his eyes.

Mr Morgan had always been a pleasant friend to him from the time of his joining the ship; and now as Mark gazed it was to see him in a peril that promised instant death.

Out there in the bright sunshine on the glancing sea lay the gig in which they had come ashore, and every detail in those brief moments seemed to be photographed on the lad's active brain. The gig was anchored as the men had said, but it was at some distance from the shore to which the men must have waded; and he recollected now how wet they had been. There before him was a small boat of Malay build coming from one of the praus, full of men, some rowing, some standing up with spears in their hands. They were swarthy-looking savages, in plaid sarongs of bright colours, these being twisted tightly about their waists, and in the band thus formed each had a kris stuck, above which the man's dark naked body glistened in the sun.

They were so near that the sun gleamed on their rolling eyes as well as flashed from their spears, two of which were now poised and held by their owners as if about to be hurled.

Mark shuddered as he saw all this, and the rest of the picture before him has yet to be described.

The boat was evidently coming to secure the gig, and to save this, and to prevent their being left alone and helpless upon this island without the means of communicating with the ship, Mr Morgan was straining every nerve. As Mark came out through the bushes, it was to see the second-mate reach the edge of the water, the sea having gone down some distance, and then he had a hundred yards to wade.

How it all happened Mark only knew afterwards from what he was told, but as he grasped the position he stood, as has been said, paralysed, and then in his agony of mind his power of action returned. Running down over the hard sand as quickly as he could, he watched the progress of events, and saw that the second-mate was still some distance from the gig, while the Malays were nearing fast. He was evidently so exhausted that he would not be able to reach the gig first, and as he realised this he paused for a moment, raised his gun and fired at the men.

This drew from them a savage yell, which seemed to be echoed from the praus; when as if to intimidate enemies and encourage the men a small gun was fired on board one of the vessels, and a little ball came skipping over the sea, to go crashing into the jungle.

Morgan went on a few steps farther and fired again; but though his shots evidently told, the men wincing and one falling, but only to spring up again, the fire did not check their progress, and they were fast nearing the gig.

Morgan made another desperate effort to reach it, when first one and then another of the Malays hurled his spear, which went through the air in a low curve.

Mark was now at the edge of the shallow water, with a blind feeling of despairing rage urging him on, boy as he was. What he was about to do he did not know himself. All he realised was that he must try and help Mr Morgan, who, as the spears were hurled, fell headlong into the deeper water, which splashed up around him glistening in the sun.

At this Mark uttered a groan and once more stopped short, as if paralysed, while, with a yell of triumph at the apparent success of their aim, the Malay boat came on and had nearly reached the gig.

But at that moment, as if moved by some other power, Mark raised the revolver and fired point-blank at the advancing boat.

Again and then again he fired—three shots—each, as the little weapon uttered its sharp ringing crack, sending a rifled bullet whizzing at the Malays. One ball struck the water before them, and went over their heads; the second passed before them, and the third struck one of the rowers, who leaped up with a yell and fell overboard.

This checked the progress of the on-coming boat. But as they dragged their wounded companion back into the boat they uttered another defiant yell, and, in spite of the two remaining shots sent pinging at them without effect, they reached the gig, and one man sprang in to cut the grapnel line.

At that moment there was quite a little volley fired from the edge of the jungle, the major and Gregory discharging four barrels at the Malays, and then with a shout they and the six sailors came running down the sands.

The man in the gig leaped back into the boat, and as the shots from the fowling-pieces were supplemented by bullets from the men's pistols the Malays rapidly paddled away, while Mark thrust back his revolver, and waded out to where Mr Morgan was trying to raise himself in the water and kept falling back.

"No, no, not much hurt, my lad," he gasped. "Got the gig ashore? Hah! That's saved."

He had just caught sight of Gregory's excited face as he came splashing towards him to pant hoarsely:

"That's right! Hold him a moment and I'll be back."

He was back directly with the gig, and by that time the men were about him, and the injured man was carried ashore, two of the sailors dragging the gig right up to the sands, upon which Mr Morgan was laid.

"Let me look," said the major, taking out his knife and ripping up the mate's shirt. "Ah! I see. I've had some experience of these things. A nasty cut, my dear boy, but it isn't wide enough to let out your spirit. You let me put a bandage on it, and I warrant it will soon heal."

"Poisoned, major?" whispered the injured man.

"Poisoned, bedad! Nonsense, man. It's a clean cut in your shoulder, and thank your stars it was there, and not in your chest."

"Look out!" shouted one of the men.

His reason was apparent, for one of the praus, seeing that the Malays were going back discomfited, began firing from her brass gun, sending a ball skipping over the water, and it finally dashed high up among the trees.

"Bah! let him fire," said the major scornfully; "they couldn't hit the Hill o' Howth, and the safest place to be in is the one they aim at. There, my dear boy, that's a business-like job, and it's in your left shoulder. Now, Gregory, what's to be done?"