the mutineers
that the Prince and his following were either dead or prisoners. Which
had been their fate? The shadow of the man in front of me, scarcely a
dozen paces away, turned and stopped and seemed to put his ear to the
woodwork. It must be (I reflected) the chart-house door by which he
stood. What was he listening for? Was it possible that some of our men
were shut up in the chart-house? I shuffled a step or two nearer and
watched him. He was fully armed, for I could make out a weapon in his
hand, and he had something by his side, probably a cutlass. It was
probable that he was placed guard over the prisoners. I drew two steps
closer still. Holgate's voice still painfully dominated the wind and
water, and I ventured yet a pace nearer. Did he turn now the man must
see me, for I was in the gray light of the dawn, a deeper shadow than
the wooden walls by which I lurked. My hands twitched, and I almost
seemed to have sprung before I did spring. Then I knew I was on his
back and had a leg twisted about his legs. He fell heavily, and I
thrust a hand across his mouth. He struggled hard, writhing upon the
deck under the weight of my body like a snake, and a choking sputter
issued from his throat. Hastily I dragged a handkerchief from my pocket
and pushed it into his mouth. The struggling increased. I glanced up
and found that we had fallen under the door of the chart-house; also in
that same glance I observed that the key was in it. No doubt it had
been turned on the outside. I reached up a hand, but missed the key by
a few inches. The endeavour had loosened my hold of my prisoner, and I
was flung against the door with a thud; but I hurled myself upon him
again just in time to prevent him from withdrawing the gag. In the
struggle which ensued I managed to push him a little closer under the
door, and then, with a desperate effort, stretched out and turned the
key. I was fumbling for the handle when the man once again evicted me
from the possession of his body, and I fell in a heap, jamming the
door, which opened outwards. But on that I was aware that my back was
being jarred and scored, and the next instant I was tumbled over at the
foot of the mutineer, who had got on his legs at last. The door was
thrust open with a noise, and men issued from it, stepping over my
body.

"It is I--Phillimore," I gasped. "Run for the cabins."

Some one helped me to my feet, and I saw the mutineer drop with a sword
point through him; and