en us come in; spied us from one o' the
caves in the wolcano, an' we could not see them. The blasted fog just
played into their 'ands. 'Av'ing been ashore, they must 'ave found the
ambergrease. They needed a ship, and they took us. And there ye are!
Sails dead, Little Billy dead, God knows 'ow many o' the crew gone, the
lass at the whim o' Wild Bob Carew. Ow, what a bit o' blasted luck!
Swiggle me stiff!"

The boatswain growled desperate oaths to himself. For a few moments he
gave himself up to lurid and audible thought.

Martin, in as black a mood himself, kept his peace, but he, too, spent
the time in thought, in gloomy surmising, in attempting to form some
plan of action. "What to do--what to do!" The refrain sang in his
troubled mind. They must act, and act quickly. Ruth's safety, and the
lives of their comrades, if any were alive, depended on the boatswain
and himself. But--what to do?

Though they were free of their bonds, they were still boxed in this
storeroom like rats in a trap! Obviously the first thing to do was to
get out of the lazaret.

Martin commenced to formulate a hazy plan of lurking beneath the
trap-door until opened from above, and then trying to burst into the
cabin, trusting to luck aiding them there. A mad plan, fore-doomed to
failure, he conceded to himself, even as he thought of it. But, what
else? They must act! Ruth ...

In the somber field of Martin's misery bloomed a tiny flower; and
whenever his mental eye rested upon this exotic, a sudden glow of
happiness pervaded his being. This bright flower was a memory--the
thought of himself lying helpless on the cabin floor, while two soft
arms pressed his sore-addled head to a protecting bosom, and warm lips
caressed his face, and a dear voice entreated; the thought of the
boatswain's confirming words, "Carew pulled the lass away from 'uggin'
and kissin' you."

So, she loved him! She returned his love! The love he had seen
lighting her eyes, but which he could never force her to acknowledge by
words, she had unmistakably admitted by action. In that black moment
in the cabin, she had bared her heart to him--bared it fearlessly
before all that hostile, leering company. His love was returned. Ruth
loved him!

Such was the origin of the exultant thrills that shot brightly through
Martin's despair. But the triumphant thought was momentary. Love
could not brighten their lot; nay, love but made more numerous the grim
ho