him up and give him one, Mr Roylance," said Sydney, quickly; and
while he went on bandaging the arm which Rogers held for him, Roylance
and the boatswain went up to the chests and kegs which formed the
stores, and filled a little tin.

"Thankye, sir," said Strake, holding out one of his great gnarled hands
for the tin, but drawing it back, for it trembled so that he could not
take the rum; but he turned sharply round, laid his arm against the
rock, and laid his face upon it, to stand so for some minutes before he
turned back, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand.

"Bit watery, sir, that's all," he said, with a smile. "Don't tell Mr
Belton, sir, what you see. Most men got their soft bit somewhere. I
dunno, though. I've knowed Master Syd from a babby, and I wouldn't mind
if you told he; but pray don't say a word before Mr Mike Terry.
Thankye, sir.--Hah! That's good rum, as I well knows. Here's success
to yer, sir, and may you never know what it is to be a father." With
which doubtful wish the boatswain drained the tin and smacked his lips.

"Well, sir, since you are so kind, I--No, put it away, my lad. No more
to-night."

The rum was replaced, and they rejoined the group near the lower gun,
just as the finishing touches were being given to Pan's wound by means
of a handkerchief being tied loosely about his neck to act as a sling.

"Got that bit o' rope, lad?" said the boatswain, and then, "Thankye," as
it was handed to him. "Beg pardon, sir, ought this here boy to have his
fust dose to-night or to-morrer morning?"

"Not till I prescribe it, Strake," said Syd, smiling, and the old man
coiled up the piece of rope and put it in his pocket, very much to Pan's
relief.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

"And where have you been?" said Syd next day, after examining his second
patient's injury.

"Down in a big hole yonder," said the boy. "It's on'y a sort o' crack,
but as soon as you gets through there's plenty o' room; and when I'd got
a blanket and a bit o' sail to sleep on, it beat the straw corner up in
the tater-loft at home all to nothing, on'y I was getting very tired o'
nearly always biscuit. I say, Master Sydney, sir, you won't let father
give me the rope's-end will you?"

"You deserve it for smuggling yourself on shore."

"Didn't you smuggle yourself ashore too, sir?" said Pan, innocently.

Sydney and Roylance exchanged glances, and went to see how Mr Dallas
was getting on.

The morning had broken b