that they were doing this not upon the gunboat's planks, and that
they could not get it overboard because the deck was that shown in the
tinselled picture of the Red Rover hanging upon the wall of the
gardener's cottage at home, while the sea beyond was only paper painted
blue. All the same, though, and in spite of his holding one end of the
gun, Chips was there, wearing a scarlet sash and waving a black flag
upon which was a grinning skull and cross-bones.

When he got as far as that, Fitz could get no farther, for things grew
rather too much entangled; so much so that it seemed to him that he
awoke just then with his brain seething and confusion worse confounded,
telling himself that he must have had the nightmare very badly indeed,
and wondering whether it was due to fever coming on, or something
indigestible he had had to eat.

But he said nothing about his dream for some hours, long after he had
been on deck, to find that there had been no alarm during the night, had
been refreshed by breakfast, and had heard that the gunboat was at
anchor where she had been the previous night, and this from Mr
Burgess's lips, for he had been down stream with the boat himself.

It was getting towards mid-day, when the sun was shining with full
power, and the opinion was strong on deck that if the gunboat people
intended to make another attack they would defer it till the day was not
quite so hot.

Just then Fitz Burnett seemed to come all at once to a conclusion about
his confused dream. Perhaps it was due to the heat in that valley,
having ripened his thoughts. Whatever it might have been, he hurried to
Poole, got hold of his arm, and told him to come forward into the bows.

"What for?" asked Poole.

"Because there's no one there, and we can talk."

"All right," said the lad. Leading the way he perched himself astride
upon the bowsprit and signified that his companion should follow his
example; and there they sat, with the loose jib-sail flapping gently to
and fro and forming an awning half the time.

"Now then," said Poole, "what is it? You look as if you had found
something, or heard some news. Is the gunboat going away?"

"I wish it were," was the reply. "I wanted to tell you that I had last
night such a dream."

"Had you? Well, are you going to tell it to me?"

"No; impossible, for I can't recollect it all myself, only the stupid
and muddled part of it. But I have been trying to puzzle it out this
morning