uch things as that."

"Not take up a delightful life yonder?"

"No; the cost is too great. I should have to be false to my class, and
to my companions in misfortune here."

"Bah!--they are not so squeamish. They come, all of them, and are glad.
You will join us?"

"No, sir, no."

"But your fish--dying!"

"Poor things! It is a disappointment, sir; but I cannot do as you wish
me to, even to save them."

"You will not?"

"No, sir, no."

"Idiot!" cried Jarette, sharply, and directly after the door was banged
and fastened.

"My fish--my fish--my poor little fish!" muttered Mr Preddle; "but I
couldn't, even to save them."

Then there was silence, and I softly recovered the little hole and
looked round at Mr Frewen, who nodded and smiled.

"Yes," he whispered, "it is quite true: he is a gentleman, poor fellow,
in spite of all."

Then we listened again, and heard door after door opened, as Jarette
went round to see his prisoners; and principally, I fancy, to make sure,
as he used his eyes sharply, that no one was likely to escape.

Door after door was opened, and then we heard fierce angry voices, one
of which I was sure was Captain Berriman's. We could not hear what was
said, but his voice sounded threatening, and Mr Frewen whispered--

"Thank heaven! I was afraid the poor captain had been murdered."

Hardly had the words passed his lips before we heard a sharp report, a
piercing shriek, and a heavy fall.

Then for a few moments there was silence, but a quick muttering of
voices followed, and then a door was banged.

A few moments later as I stood there panting, and with the perspiration
standing out upon my forehead, another door seemed to have been opened,
and I heard a quick angry voice speaking loudly and upbraidingly.

"Mr Denning!" I said excitedly, as I turned to my companion, whose
face looked terrible in its rage and despair.

"Whose voice was that, Dale?" he cried wildly.

"Mr Denning's, I'm sure."

"No, no, the lady's cry."

"I--I--don't know," I stammered.

"You do--you do!" he cried wildly, as he caught me by the breast; "speak
out."

"I--I half fancied it was Miss Denning shrieked out," I faltered.

"Yes," he groaned. "Yes, and I am shut up like this. Is there no way
of escape?"

And all this while the angry muttering and talking went on, Mr Denning
evidently bitterly upbraiding Jarette, and the latter mockingly defiant,
and uttering what sounded like contemptuous reto