prisoner."

"Yes; excellent," said Mr Frewen. "I'll open mine at once."

He crept cautiously across and opened the door to its full extent, and,
as he told me afterwards, he placed a heavy case of instruments against
it, so that it should not swing to again from the motion of the ship.

The next minute he was back, and we were watching and waiting as the
ship laboured terribly, the sea being now terrific; but, as Mr Brymer
whispered, everything possible had been done, and she was under
close-reefed storm canvas.

"I couldn't have done better myself there, but the men at the wheel are
steering very wildly."

There was silence again, and as I listened for a voice, the lanterns
forward swung to and fro, and so much water came aboard that I fully
expected to see them extinguished, when all forward would have been in
darkness.

"Is he never coming again?" whispered Mr Frewen at last.

"Oh yes, he'll come," said Mr Brymer. "They've got the grog forward
there, and perhaps he has gone below."

"Then why not crawl forward and clap on the forecastle-hatch?"

"Because it will be far safer for us to secure their leader; and,
besides, by closing up the forksle you might shut in our friends as
well."

"Yes, quite right," replied Mr Frewen, and we waited still, with the
wind shrieking amongst the cordage, and the night appearing blacker than
ever.

Thud! Plash!

A heavy wave had struck the bows, and the spray came hissing and rushing
along the deck after deluging the ship forward.

"I'm certain that my poor fish will all be killed by the salt water,
Dale," whispered Mr Preddle, but I only made an impatient movement, for
I was trying to hear what Mr Brymer whispered to the doctor, who did
not hear the remark, and said--

"What?"

"I say that was bad steering, and if I were in command, there would be a
row."

Thud! Splash!

This time the water must have curled over in a perfect deluge, for we
could hear it hiss and roar amongst the cordage on the leeward side, and
stream out of the scuppers.

"That must fetch him up if he is below," whispered Mr Brymer, and sure
enough the next moment we heard his voice shouting furiously at the men
at the wheel, though we could hardly make out a word he said.

"Look out! Here he comes!"

"To the wheel, not here," said Mr Frewen. "Shall we--"

There was not time to say more, for we caught an indistinct glimpse of
the figure in oilskins, as, balancing itself as well as