he
ladder he had been so long abusing right up against the side. "Now,
then, up with yer, Mr Oliver Lane, sir."

"No, no; up, Drew."

"Quick: don't shilly-shally," roared Mr Rimmer. "Now, boys, fire!"

A ragged volley came from overhead as Drew ran up the ladder, and then
leaned down to hold out his hand to Panton, who went up more slowly,
with an arrow sticking in his shoulder.

"Now, Smith," cried Oliver.

"No, sir. Orficers first," was the reply.

"Confound you, you'll be too late!" roared Mr Rimmer, and Smith sprang
up as the savages came on with a rush, and, literally driven by Wriggs
to follow, Oliver went up next, while Wriggs followed him so closely
that he touched and helped him all the while, the ladder quivering and
bending and threatening to give way beneath their weight.

The next moment the mate's strong hands had seized Oliver's sides and
pitched him over the sail cloth to the deck, while, as Wriggs got hold
of a rope and swung himself in, the ladder was seized and dragged away
as a trophy taken from the enemy, the savages yelling wildly, and then
increasing their rate of retreat, as a fresh volley was sent after them.

"Oh, murder, look at that!" yelled Wriggs, excitedly, as he climbed up
and looked over at the retreating foe.

"Tommy, old lad, see here. The beggars! Arter my troubles too, all the
night: they've carried off my ladder, after all."

The moon was now high above the mist, and bathed the deck with the soft
light, veining it at the same time with the black shadows of stay, spar,
yard, and running rigging.

"Don't fire, lads," cried Mr Rimmer. "We mustn't waste a shot. Wait
till they come on again. Now, gentlemen, thank God you're all back safe
again. Eh? Not safe? Don't say anyone's hurt."

"Yes, Lane's hurt, and Panton."

"So's Billy Wriggs, sir," said Smith.

"Course I am, mate, so would you be if you'd slipped your foot between
the ratlines of an ugly old ladder, and broke your ankle."

"Why, I did, Billy, right up to the crutch, and snapped my thigh-bone in
half," growled Smith.

"I'll see to you as soon as I can. Here, two of you carry Mr Lane down
into the cabin."

"No, Mr Panton first," said Oliver. "He's worst."

"Don't stand on ceremony, gentlemen," cried the mate, angrily. "Mr
Drew, are you all right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then take command here. You have your gun, keep a sharp look-out, and
no mercy now, down with the first of the treacherous dogs