as we had, to find themselves lying helpless
on the floor.

We had reached this point when Barney's voice came, and it sounded
anxious.

"Better come now, Mr Dale, sir," he whispered. "We can get along here
again."

"Yes, I'll come soon," I whispered back, for to a certain extent I
forgot my troubles in the satisfaction of having been able to reach my
friends.

"Better come now, sir. They're getting scared behind yonder, and seems
to me there's on'y just wind enough left for us to breathe going back.
If you stop any longer there won't be none, for I shall swaller it all."

I explained what he said to me, and it was Mr Frewen who now spoke
through the tiny hole.

"Yes, go back directly," he said. "Come again in a few hours' time, the
air will be better again then, and we will cut this hole big enough for
you to come through."

I could have wished it to have been made bigger then, so that I could
get to my friends, but I knew it would be like forsaking the men I had
left, so after promising to return soon--thinking nothing now of the
difficulty of the journey--I said good-bye, and began to crawl back,
remembering directly plenty of things I should have liked to ask.

But now I had to think of my perilous journey back, and I shuddered as I
thought how nearly I had been wedged fast beside the crate. Somehow,
though, now that I knew the extent of my risk, it did not seem half so
bad, I reached the crate, changed from the horizontal to the
perpendicular opening, kept close to the top with my head and shoulders,
and let my legs go down till I could rest them on the crossbar of the
crate, made my way to the end round the corner, and reached the place
where Barney was anxiously waiting, and then paused for a few moments to
rest, ready to wonder at the ease with which I had returned. I said
something of the kind to Barney, and he laughed.

"Oh yes, sir," he said. "It's like going aloft when you're young. I
remember the first time I went up to the main-topgallant mast-head, I
said to myself, `On'y let me once get down safe, and you'll never ketch
me up here again;' while now one goes up and does what one has to do
without thinking about it, and--Hear that?"

"Yes; what are they bumping about on the deck?"

"Dunno, sir. Sounds like getting the big boats off from over the
galley. But they won't hear us, sir; let's get back to where we can
have a pull at the fresh air. Will you go first?"

"No; you know the