"Right, sir. It's Natur's finest fizzick, as well I know. There, I'll
go and have a snap myself, for it's the middle o' the night, and I
haven't had a bite since breakfast."

There was silence then, and Carey thought the man had stolen softly
away; so he was trying to keep his promise, though the first effort he
made to partake of the food gave him intense pain. Then he started, for
Bostock said softly:

"He's pretty quiet now, sir; I hope he aren't hatching any noo tricks
again' us. Tell you what it is; I'm going down to him to-morrow with a
mattress to see if I can't smother him down till I've got his shooting
irons away. We shan't feel safe till that's done. My word! I should
like to chain him up in the cable tier till we could hand him over to
the 'Stralian police."

"Yes," said Carey, gravely. "Bob, that's the most sensible thing I've
heard you say."

"Is it, sir? Then I'll go and give myself a bit o' supper after that.
Are you eating?"

"I'm trying to, Bob."

"Trying's half the battle, sir. There, now I am off."

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

The dreary hours crawled along, and it seemed to Carey that he was
suffering from a long-drawn weary nightmare, made up of his own pain, a
sigh or two at times from the doctor and restless movements, groans, and
threats and cursings from the beachcomber.

It was a horrible night, for the boy, in addition to his other troubles,
felt as if he were somehow to blame for the sufferings of the wretched
man below.

Lying there in agony with broken legs! It was horrible, and the boy
could not have suffered more if he had himself been the victim of the
accident.

But there were breaks in the misery of that long dark night. Bostock
was soon back, announcing that his head was two sizes larger than usual,
but that he was all the better for his supper, and ready for anything
now.

He told the watcher, too, that the black fellows ashore were still
keeping up their fire, stopping probably to eat sometimes, but at others
re-making the fire till it blazed again, and playing in the bright light
at "Here we go round the mulberry bush."

But the little incident that gave Carey the most satisfaction was that
soon after Bostock's return to his post at the skylight there was a soft
rustling, a light thud on the floor, and directly after the black
squatted down close by where the lad was seated, and, though he could
not make out his figure, he felt sure that the Australia