ss. Mr. Sims had barely time to level the pistol he was
holding; but when he fired the deck was in darkness.

"This way, Mademoiselle," came my father's voice, and I ran towards it.
"Hold them off, Brutus," he was calling. "Ha! It is you, my son."

While he was speaking, he darted lightly aft, and I followed. Behind me
came the confused babel of struggling men. Someone was calling for a
light, and someone was shrieking for help. A man with a lantern was
running forward. I tripped him and we fell together, and then I felt a
hand on my collar. It dragged me to my feet. I struck at it blindly,
while I felt myself being half pulled, half carried through the black.
And then I heard my father's voice again, close beside me, as slow and
cold as ever.

"Close the door, Brutus," he said. "Listen to them. They must think we
are still there."

And then I knew what had happened. Brutus had dragged me with him, and we
were in a cabin. I heard my father fumbling about in the dark.

"Ah," he said, "here is the powder. Load these pistols, Brutus. Gently,
you fool! Do you want to kill me?"

"You are hurt, captain," cried Mademoiselle.

"It is not worth troubling over," said my father. "And you, my lady, you
are quite all right? I fear I handled you roughly. I was afraid for a
moment we might be inconvenienced."

"And now," I said sarcastically, speaking into the darkness before me, "I
suppose our troubles are over."

"I think so," replied my father. "Now that Brutus has thrown Mr. Sims
overboard. It might be different if he were still with us. He seemed to
be a determined and resourceful man. We are in the after cabin, Henry,
quite the pleasantest one on the ship, and not ten paces from the wheel."

Still out of breath, still confused, I tried to look, but could see
nothing. I could only smell the pungent odor of tarred rope and stale
tobacco smoke. Having finished speaking, I could hear my father still
moving about deliberately and moderately, seemingly well pleased at the
place where we had been driven.

"Yes," he said again, "not ten paces from the wheel, and now we will
finish it."

"Will you never be serious, sir?" I cried. "Do you suppose they are going
to let you take charge of the ship?"

"I think so," replied my father. "But first, I must take a swallow from
my flask. There is nothing like a drink to rest one. Open the port by the
door, Brutus."

And I felt him groping his way past me.

"Brutus," he said, "pa