leaned over,
grasped the chain-cable and almost without a sound made fast the painter
to one of the links.

CHAPTER FIFTY.

A DARING DEED.

The brains of the other occupants of the boat had been as active as
those of Fitz, and their owners had come to pretty well the same
conclusion, as they all involuntarily lowered their heads and sat
perfectly still listening, and hardly able to believe that the man who
was smoking was not watching them and about to give the alarm.

But the moments glided by and became minutes, while the silence on board
the gunboat seemed painful. The perspiration stood upon Fitz's brow,
forming drops which gradually ran together and then began to trickle
down the sides of his nose, tickling horribly; but he dared not even
raise his hand to wipe them away.

By degrees, though, all became convinced that they could not be seen,
and something in the way of relief came at the end of about a quarter of
an hour, when all at once the cigar in the man's mouth glowed more
brightly, and then brighter still as it made a rush through the air,
describing a curve and falling into the sea, when the silence was broken
by a hiss so faint that it was hardly heard, and by something else which
was heard plainly.

Some one, evidently the smoker, gave vent to a yawn, a Spanish yawn, no
doubt, but as much like an English one as it could be. Then, just
audible in the silence, there was the faint sound of feet, as of some
one pacing up and down the deck, another yawn, and then utter silence
once again.

No one stirred in the gig; no one seemed to breathe; till at last Poole
raised his hand to Fitz's shoulder, leaned closer till he could place
his lips close to his companion's ear, and whispered softly--

"I think they've let the fires out. I've been watching where the funnel
must be, and I haven't seen a spark come out."

Fitz changed his position a little so as to follow his companion's
example, and whispered in turn--

"Nor I neither, but I fancy I can see a quivering glow, and I've smelt
the sulphur quite plainly."

There was another pause, and Poole whispered--

"Think there's anybody on deck?"

The answer came--

"If there is he must be asleep."

"What about that chap who was smoking?"

"I think after that last yawn he went below."

"Then isn't it time we began?"

Fitz whispered back--

"Yes, if we are going to do anything; but our plans seem turned
topsy-turvy. We are close to the bo