long before I
could learn all that I wanted to ascertain. I, therefore, went on deck
again, loosed the immense sail, and spread a fold of it over the small
skylight in order to mask the light in the cabin--should I be fortunate
enough to obtain one--and then went forward to the forecastle to hunt
for a lantern of some sort. I found the fore-scuttle not only closed,
but also secured by a stout iron bar, the slotted end of which was
passed over a staple and secured by a padlock. Fortunately, however,
the individual who had last visited the little vessel had been too
careless or too lazy to remove the key from the lock, therefore all I
had to do was to turn the key, remove the padlock from the staple, throw
back the bar, lift off the cover, and my way down into the forecastle
was clear. But I had no sooner lifted off the hatch cover and was
preparing to descend than, to my utter consternation, I became aware of
the fact that the forecastle was inhabited. For as I flung my leg in
over the coamings I distinctly heard a sound of stirring, followed, to
my amazement, by the drowsy muttering of a voice in English, grumbling:

"What the blazes do they want now; and who comes off here at this time
o' night? 'Taint time to turn out yet, I'll swear, for I don't seem to
have been asleep more'n five minutes!"

English! Then the speaker must certainly be a friend, and without more
ado I dropped down into the little forecastle, exclaiming:

"Hillo, there! Who are you, my friend; and what the dickens are you
doing locked up here in this forecastle?"

"Who am I?" retorted the voice. "Why, I'm an Englishman; my name's Tom
Brown, and the name of my mate here is Joe Cutler; both of us late of
His Britannic Majesty's schooner _Wasp_, what foundered in a gale o'
wind somewheres off this here coast a while since. We was picked up off
a bit of wreckage by the crew of this here hooker--what turned out to be
something in the piratical line--and brought into harbour. And since
we've been here we've been made to work like niggers because we wouldn't
jine the `brotherhood,' as they calls theirselves. Latterly we've been
kept aboard this here feluccer, because it appears that there's some
chap ashore there as they don't want to see us. Ay, and if it comes to
that, perhaps you're the chap. Seems to me as I've heard your voice
before. Who are you at all, gov'nor?"

"My name is Delamere," I replied, "and I commanded--"

"Of course, o