-rigged ship?"

"Tchah! You've been to sea times enough, and a ship's on'y a yacht
growed up. Besides, there's no navigating wanted now as there's no
wind."

"But the boats!" I cried. "Look at the boats."

"Oh, I see 'em, my lad; well, that means fighting, and I never knowed a
boy yet as didn't know how to fight."

"We must try to beat them off, Bob," I said, ignoring his remark.

"Nay, not try--do it, sir; and you, being skipper, of course 'll give
'em a startler to show 'em what's waiting for 'em, if they try to board
again."

"What do you mean, Bob?" I cried.

"Well, come, I like that, sir," he said, with a laugh; "there have you
got the little signal-gun loaded and primed, and the poker all red-hot
and waiting, and i'stead o' having it run to the gangway, set open ready
to give 'em their startler, you says you don't know what to do?"

"Would you do that, Bob?" I said anxiously.

"No; but you would, sir, being skipper, and wanting to save the ship,
what's left o' the cargo, and all aboard."

"But it might sink them."

"And jolly well serve 'em right--a set of piratical sharks. Ahoy,
Barney!--you aren't to stop at that there wheel now; the skipper wants
you to lend a hand with the gun."

Barney ran up to us, and the gun was dragged to the open gangway, ready
for the mutineers, as they still rowed on.

"Neb, old lad," cried Bob, "give a hye to the red-hot poker, and when I
cries `Sarvice!' out you runs with it, and hands it to me."

"Ay, ay," growled Dumlow, in his deepest bass.

"It's all right, Mr Dale, sir," whispered Bob. "You can't hit 'em with
that thing if you try ever so; but it'll splash up the water, and scare
the lot on 'em so that old Frenchy 'll have no end of a job to get 'em
to come on."

I felt better at that, and waited for the attack. Mr Frewen was back
with us, and Mr Preddle too. Mr Denning was also in his old place
with his gun; and as the men, including the four who had joined us, were
armed with the weapons they had brought from the boat, they made a
respectable show.

"But do you think we can trust those men?" I whispered to Bob.

"Trust 'em, my lad?" he replied, with a chuckle. "You jest may. They
knows it would be all over with 'em if once Frenchy got 'em under his
thumb again. Don't you be scared about them; they'll fight like
gamecocks."

"If we could only get the wind again," said Mr Frewen, who looked
anxious.

"Is there any chance of it, Bob?" I a