him.

Suddenly, in a violent rolling of the ship, Negoro fell, and he would,
doubtless, have been thrown into the sea if he had not held on to the
binnacle.

Tom gave a cry, fearing the compass would be broken.

Dick Sand, in a moment of wakefulness, heard that cry, and rushing out
of his quarters, he ran aft.

Negoro had already risen, but he held in his hand the piece of iron
which he had just taken from under the binnacle, and he hid it before
Dick Sand could see it.

Was it, then, Negoro's interest for the magnetic needle to return to
its true direction? Yes, for these southwest winds served him now!

"What's the matter?" asked the novice.

"It's that cook of misfortune, who has just fallen on the compass!"
replied Tom.

At those words Dick Sand, in the greatest anxiety, leaned over the
binnacle. It was in good condition; the compass, lighted by two lamps,
rested as usual on its concentric circles.

The young novice was greatly affected. The breaking of the only compass
on board would be an irreparable misfortune.

But what Dick Sand could not observe was that, since the taking away of
the piece of iron, the needle had returned to its normal position, and
indicated exactly the magnetic north as it ought to be under that
meridian.

Meanwhile, if Negoro could not be made responsible for a fall which
seemed to be involuntary, Dick Sand had reason to be astonished that he
was, at that hour, aft in the ship.

"What are you doing there?" he asked him.

"What I please," replied Negoro.

"You say----" cried Dick Sand, who could not restrain his anger.

"I say," replied the head cook, "that there is no rule which forbids
walking aft."

"Well, I make that the rule," replied Dick Sand, "and I forbid you,
remember, to come aft."

"Indeed!" replied Negoro.

That man, so entirely under self-control, then made a menacing gesture.

The novice drew a revolver from his pocket, and pointed it at the head
cook.

"Negoro," said he, "recollect that I am never without this revolver,
and that on the first act of insubordination I shall blow out your
brains!"

At that moment Negoro felt himself irresistibly bent to the deck.

It was Hercules, who had just simply laid his heavy hand on Negoro's
shoulder.

"Captain Sand," said the giant, "do you want me to throw this rascal
overboard? He will regale the fishes, who are not hard to please!"

"Not yet," replied Dick Sand.

Negoro rose as soon as the black's ha