job," cried a voice. "We've had enough," and there
was an outcry of applause.

Immediately on that there was a loud rapping on the door near us.

"When I've played my cards and fail, gentlemen," said Holgate's voice,
"I'll resign the game into your hands."

"What is it?" shouted Barraclough. "Fire, and be hanged!"

"You mistake, Sir John," called out Holgate. "We're not anxious for
another scrap. We've got our bellies full. All we want is a little
matter that can be settled amicably. I won't ask you to open, for I
can't quite trust the tempers of my friends here. But if you can hear
me, please say so."

"I hear," said Barraclough.

"That's all right, then. I won't offer to come in, for William Tell may
be knocking about. We can talk straight out here. We want the contents
of those safes, that's all--a mere modest request in the
circumstances."

"You've got the safes," shouted Barraclough. "Let us alone."

"Softly, Sir John, Bart.," said the mutineer. "The safes are there safe
enough, but there's nothing in 'em. You've got back on us this time, by
thunder, you have. And the beauty of the game was its simplicity. Well,
here's terms again, since we're bound to do it in style of
plenipotentiaries. Give us the contents of the safes, and I'll land you
on the coast here within twelve hours with a week's provisions."

There was a moment's pause on this, and Barraclough looked toward me in
the dim light, as if he would, ask my advice.

"They've got the safes," he said in perplexity. "This is more
treachery, I suppose."

"Shoot 'em," said Lane furiously. "Don't trust the brutes."

"Wait a bit," said I hurriedly. "Don't let's be rash. We had better
call Mr. Morland. There's something behind this. Tell them that we will
answer presently."

Barraclough shouted the necessary statement, and I hurried off to the
Prince's cabin. I knocked, and entered abruptly. Mademoiselle sat in a
chair with a face suffused with tears, her pretty head bowed in her
hands. She looked up.

"What are we to do, doctor? The Prince says we must fight. But there is
another way, is there not?" she said in French. "Surely, we can make
peace. I will make peace myself. This agitates my nerves, this fighting
and the dead; and oh, Frederic! you must make peace with this 'Olgate."

The Prince sat awkwardly silent, his eyes blinking and his mouth
twitching. What he had said I know not, but, despite the heaviness of
his appearance, he looked abject