they bring us grub; if they do, we
can be pretty sure they won't visit us again for several hours.
That'll give us time. Hist, Marty, 'ere comes some one now! Quick,
slip on your 'andcuff and play 'alf dead!"

Some thin points of light, suddenly shooting into their dark prison,
from around the edges of the trap-door over their heads, gave rise to
the boatswain's exclamations. Martin, observing the light at the same
instant as the bosun, knew that the rug that covered the square in the
cabin floor had been drawn aside. Some one was about to come down to
them.

Martin bent his arms behind him and quickly slipped his free hand into
the handcuff. Then he lay down on his side.

The boatswain encircled the stanchion with his arms and legs and
adjusted the loose manacles to his wrists and ankles. Except to a
close examination, the pair appeared to be as tightly shackled as when
their captors introduced them into their present surroundings. They
crouched tense and still, their eyes on the square door overhead,
waiting.

The trap-door opened. A flood of daylight rushed into the storeroom
and lighted a wide patch of boxes and kegs; not, however, reaching to
the spot where Martin and the boatswain lay.

"Fog gone," Martin heard his companion mutter.

A man stepped into the light, bearing a lighted lantern in his hand,
and started to descend the ladder. But it was not Charley Bo Yip with
food, as the boatswain had expected. It was the Japanese, Ichi.

Ichi stepped out of the square of daylight at the bottom of the ladder,
lifted his lantern, and sent its beam down the gloomy passage. The two
observant prisoners were disclosed.

"Ah, Mr. Blake! I perceive you have regained consciousness, and the
power of locomotion," came to Martin's ears in the softly modulated,
even voice he so well remembered as being part of the one-time visitor
to Josiah Smatt. "May I inquire if you have also recovered speech?"
added Ichi.

"Answer 'im," whispered the boatswain, as Martin lay silent and
glowering.

"Yes," said Martin.

"Ah, my dear boatswain, Henry, is a wise counselor," remarked Ichi,
proving the acuteness of his hearing. "You are to be congratulated,
Mr. Blake. One does not usually recover with such admirable quickness
from the effects of the cervical plexus hold my man, Moto, practised
upon you. And you, my good boatswain--it is with great pleasure that I
perceive the workings of Fate have chastened the--er,