You, Mr Rimmer!"

"Yes, my lad, and I'm very thankful."

"What, that you shot me?"

"Yes, through the arm instead of through the chest, for I couldn't have
doctored you then."

"I say! Oh! What are you doing?" cried Oliver.

"That's right, have a rousing shout if it will do you good, my lad,"
said the mate, whose fingers were busy. "But that's right, don't
shrink," he continued as he went on with his task, which was that of
plugging the two mouths of the wound with lint--

"Hallo! What is it?"

A sailor's head had appeared inside the cabin door.

"Mr Drew says, sir, as the savages are coming back, and would you like
to come on deck?"

"Yes, of course," said the mate hastily. "Go and tell him I'm coming."

"Yes, sir."

The man disappeared, and the mate turned to Smith.

"Here," he said, "carefully and tightly bind up Mr Lane's arm, so that
the plugs cannot come out."

"Me, sir? Don't you want me to come and fight?"

"I want you to obey orders," said the mate, sharply. "There, you will
not hurt, Mr Lane; and as for you, Mr Panton, don't let imagination
get the better of you, sir. I'll come down again as soon as I can."

"You won't hurt, sir," said Smith, with rough sympathy, as he took up
the bandage and examined the injured arm by the light of the lamp. "But
he can. All very fine for him to say that, after ramming in a couple o'
pellets just as if he was loading an elder-wood pop-gun. Look here,
sir, shall I take 'em out again?"

"No, no," said Oliver, trying hard to bear the acute pain he suffered,
patiently.

"But they must hurt you 'orrid, and he won't know when the bandage is
on."

"Tie up my arm, man," said Oliver, shortly. "It is quite right. That's
better--Tighter.--No, no, I can't bear it. Yes: that will do. How are
you getting on, Panton?"

"Badly. Feel as if someone was boring a hole in my shoulder with a red
hot poker."

"So do I," said Oliver; "and as if he had got quite through, and was
leaving the poker in to burn the hole bigger."

"Serve you right."

"Why?"

"You were always torturing some poor creature, sticking pins through it
to `set it up' as you call it."

"But not alive. I always poisoned them first."

"Worse and worse," said Panton, trying hard to preserve his calmness,
and to master the horror always to the front in his thoughts, by
speaking lightly. "That's what I believe they have done to me, but
they've failed to get me as a specimen."

"Ha