med to bring
him to himself at once. He turned sharply upon Rodd and gave him a
grave nod of the head, and said quietly--

"I am afraid you are right, my boy. Morny, my lad, I told your father
that in this expedition you should be to me as my son. Let me play the
father to you now, and tell you that it is your duty to act as a man."

"Act as a man, sir--" began Morny.

"Yes, my boy; act and not talk. Aboard, every one of you, my lads," he
continued, to the sailors. "I am afraid we have been wiled away here by
a cunning trick, for what reason remains to be proved. But whatever it
means, we are twelve staunch men with our duty before us, and that is,
to get back as quickly as possible to the schooner and the brig. I may
be deceived, but I believe we are the victims of a plot, and if so I am
afraid it will go hard with that Spaniard when we meet. Now, then, I
don't know how long it will take, but we have got to do it, and when we
get back to our schooner, no matter what has happened, there's ten
guineas apiece as a sort of prize-money for the brave lads who have
helped to pull us through."

A loud excited cheer burst from the crew, and several voices broke in
afterwards with something indistinguishable amidst the noise.

"What's that? What's that I hear?" cried the doctor sharply to Joe
Cross.

"The lads say they don't want no ten guineases, sir, but they'd all give
as much as that to get hold of that dirty Spaniel by the neck."

"Hah!" ejaculated the doctor. "Now then, not ten guineas, but twenty,
for the man among you who can guide us through this wilderness of waters
back to our stout Devon boat. Now then, who's the one among you who can
act as guide?"

A dead silence fell upon the group, and for the first time since their
start a black storm-cloud began to spread slowly over the sky.

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.

WET DUST IN THE EYE.

It was the precursor of a terrible tropic tempest, with bluish lightning
that was blinding, while the roar of heaven's artillery was incessant.
But not a man blenched as the rowers bent to their oars, gladdened by
the feeling that the current was with them, as they sent the boat
rapidly along for their last halting-place. But a mile had hardly been
covered when, with a wild shriek and roar, down came the rain, not in
showers or in drops, but in sheets so heavy that before a minute had
elapsed every one was drenched, and soon after two of the men had to
begin to bale.