ough the swaying, surging
mass of men that hid the fallen officers from his view, he heard a
sound--the sound of a man's skull as it was smashed in by a heavy blow.

"He's done for," said a voice, with a savage laugh, "scoot, chaps,
scoot. This shindy will keep the old man quiet a bit, now one of his
fightin' cocks is gone," and the men tumbled down off the poop as quick
as their legs could carry them, leaving Challoner and the two prone
figures behind them. Cressingham had gone below for his revolver.

"Steward," called Challoner, "bring a light here, quick, and see where
the captain is," and, stooping down, he tried to raise Harman, then laid
him down with a shudder--his brains were scattered on the deck. Barton
was alive, but unconscious.

As Challoner was about to rise, Captain Cressingham stood over him and
raised his arm, and dealt him a crashing blow with a belaying pin. When
he regained consciousness he was in irons.

*****

A month later and he stood in the dock charged with murder. The
principal witnesses against him were his captain and Barton, the third
mate. The crew, who, of course, were also witnesses in the case, didn't
worry much about him. It wasn't likely they would run their necks into
a noose if it could be placed round any one else's. And in this
instance--superinduced by a vision of the gallows--fo'c's'le hands stuck
to one another and lied manfully together. None of them "had hurt Mr.
Harman."

But it was upon Cressingham's evidence that his fate hung; and
Cressingham, suave, handsome, and well-dressed, told the court how
Challoner had once attempted to murder Harman in the earlier part of the
voyage. Barton, with his arm in a sling, corroborated the lie with blunt
cheerfulness.

His Honour summed up dead against the prisoner, and the jury, impressed
by the calm, gentlemanly appearance of Captain Cressingham, and the
haggard, unshaven, and guilty look of the man whose life they held in
their hands, were not long in considering their verdict.

The prisoner was found guilty, but with a recommendation to mercy.

And then the judge, who was cross and tired, made a brief but affecting
speech, and sentenced him to imprisonment for life.

He went into his prison cell with hair as black as night, and came out
again as white as a man of seventy.

******

In a back room of the public-house he sat and waited till he had courage
and strength enough to face the streets again. And as he waited,