olled indolently up on
deck, and glanced up at the well-set sails, and saw the bows pointing
due north, and as their eyes fell on the bright pistols and side-arms at
the officers' belts, it was evident they were in some doubt as to what
course to pursue.

They talked together in surly groups, arguing probably that on the high
sea, away from support, and in the presence of a forewarned and
forearmed body of officers, their chances of seizing the ship were not
promising; and one or two were bold enough audibly to regret their folly
for not having struck their blow and hoisted the red flag while the
_Zebra_ lay in friendly company in the Downs.

Finally, as I supposed, it was decided to wait till we reached Yarmouth
Roads, and claim the support of the mutineers there. Meanwhile orders
were obeyed with ominous silence; and worse still, the few loyal men on
whom the officers had counted to stand by them were got at and drawn
into consultation with their messmates, and some of them were seduced
into taking part with the malcontents.

Next afternoon we sighted sails to northward; but as just then the
breeze fell dead, we were unable before nightfall to ascertain whether
they were ships of Admiral Duncan's squadron or not. While Lieutenant
Adrian was deliberating with the other officers as to whether we should
put off a boat to get word of them, the men came aft in a body and
demanded a conference.

Their spokesman was an Irishman whom I recognised as one of the new
hands brought on board at the last moment off Dublin. He was a glib,
noisy fellow, clever most likely at anything but seamanship, of which he
knew nothing, and very little acquainted with the seamen's grievances of
which he elected himself to speak.

Lieutenant Adrian, who was in an ill-enough temper at the time, ordered
him to take himself and the dogs at his heels to the place they came
from, unless he wanted to taste the lash.

The men, who had expected some such reception, stood their ground, and
ordered Callan, for that was the leader's name, to say on.

"It's not yourself we need to speak to," said Callan, "it's the captain.
Let us see him."

"My lads," said the ship's surgeon, who was one of the officers present,
"you are like enough to see your captain in his shroud before morning,
for he is this moment at death's door."

"So much the worse," replied Callan. "There was hope of justice out of
Captain Swift; there's none at all out of the lieute