off
at a brisk pace to the "Black Hole." He soon reached it; and on his
approach was promptly challenged by the two guards, who happened to be
the same two truculent ruffians who were on guard when Dickinson tried
to communicate with the prisoners.

In reply to the challenge, Bob informed them that they were wanted by
Ralli, _immediately_, at the cottage (that being the most distant
building), and that he had orders to keep guard until their return.

"What are we wanted for?" was the suspicious question.

"Oh! I believe there's some more people to be locked up here," answered
Bob nonchalantly.

"All right!" answered the one who had asked the question. "Come on,
Mike. And you--you young swab--mind you don't let a soul come near here
while we're gone; if you do, Ralli'll just skin yer. D'ye hear?"

"All right!" answered Bob, placing his back against the door; "you go
on; I won't give Ralli a chance to skin me, never fear. He's a good
deal more likely to skin _you_ if you don't look sharp."

The two guards accordingly set out in the direction of the cottage; but
they had not gone half a dozen steps before they returned, cursing and
swearing most horribly.

"Here, you young cub, what's the pass-word? Damn me if I hadn't
forgotten that," exclaimed one of them, making towards Bob with
outstretched hand.

"Stand back!" said Bob. "If you advance another step I'll shoot you
both like dogs."

"The pass-word; the pass-word," demanded the ruffianly pair. "Give the
pass-word at once, or by --- I'll split your skull with this cutlass."

Bob saw that he had not a moment to lose; that his life hung upon a
thread; and that, moreover, if he allowed these fellows to overpower
him, the whole scheme would probably fail; he therefore whipped out his
pistols, and, taking rapid aim, pulled both triggers at the same
instant. There was a single report; and one of the men staggered
forward, shot through the body, whilst the other threw up his arms and
fell back heavily to the ground with a bullet in his brain.

Bob remembered for many a long day afterwards, and often saw in his
dreams at night, the wild despairing glare in the eyes of the dying
pirate as the flash of the pistol glanced upon the glazing eyeballs for
an instant; but he had no time to think about such things now. Stooping
down and applying his mouth to the keyhole he said, loud enough to be
heard by those within:

"Stand clear in there; I'm about to blow th