an out.
Here be the bloody murders, the man-killers, the domned sons uv a
landlord. C'm'an out, ye divils."

They heard, and they came, from both doors, with bloody faces and
blackened eyes, and, seeing the captain and his aids, charged as one
man. In vain Murphy's poised brick and Hennesey's persuasive voice. In
vain the leveled pistols of the captain and mates and their thundering
orders to stop or be shot down. There came a volley of bricks, and the
captain's pistol was knocked from his hand, while a second brick,
striking him on the head, robbed him of sense and volition. Each of the
mates fired his pistol once, but not again; the bullets flew wide, and
the firearms were twisted from their hands, while they were tripped up,
struck, and kicked about until helpless to rise or resist. Hennesey and
Murphy were also borne to the deck and punished. Some might have been
killed had not one inspired Celt given voice to an original idea.

"Lock 'em up!" he shouted. "Lock 'em up in the kitchen, an' nail the
dures on thim!"

They joyously accepted the suggestion. The four weak and stricken
conscious men were dragged or shoved into the galley by some, while
others lifted the unconscious captain after them. Then the doors were
closed, and soon they heard the hammering of nails over the jangle of
voices. Then the jangle of voices took on a new and distinct note of
unanimity.

"Turn the boat, Denny," they shouted to the man at the wheel. "Turn the
boat around. We'll go home in sphite o' thim, the vilyuns."

Their footfalls sounded fainter and fainter as they rushed aft; and
Murphy picked himself up from the floor, now almost denuded of its
brick paving.

"For the love of Gawd," he groaned, wiping the blood from his eyes,
"are they goin' to beach her in this gale?"

The galley was lighted by two large deadlights, one each side, too
small to crawl through, but large enough for a man's head. Murphy
reached his head through one of them and looked aft. They had
surrounded the wheel, and their war-cries were audible. As many as six
were handling the spokes, and the big ship was squaring away before the
wind, heading for that dim spot of blue in the murk and smoke to
leeward. Murphy could see it when the ship pitched into a hollow--about
forty miles away.

"And us locked up like rats in a trap," he muttered. "She'll strike in
four hours, and Gawd help us all if we can't git out of here."

But there was no getting out, and they