hat's enough; you lads remain here with me. Have Harwood watch
LeVere, while the rest of you get out the boats."

"How many, sir?"

"The two quarter-boats will hold us all. Knock out the plugs in the
others--and Watkins!"

"Ay, ay, sir."

"See that Miss Fairfax is placed safely in the after-boat, and then
stand by. Send me word the moment all is ready. That's all--we're
going to be busy here presently."

I had glimpse of the thick fog without as he pushed through the door,
and of a scarcely distinguishable group of men on the deck. Those
about me could only be located by their restless movements. I stepped
down one stair conscious of increasing movement below, the meat
cleaver still gripped in my hands.

"Any of you armed with cutlasses?"

"Oui, M'Sieur, Ravel DeLasser."

"Stand here, to right of me, now another at my left. Who are you?"
"Jim Carter, sir."

"Good; now strike hard, lads, and you others be ready."

"What's up, sir?" asked a gruff voice. "Has they busted out from
between decks?"

"That's what's happened. The cabin is full of 'em, and it is your life
and mine in the balance. If we can get away in this fog they'll never
find us, but we've got to hold them here until the boats are ready."

"Is it Sanchez?"

"It was Sanchez, but I killed him. That is where we've still got them
huskies, without a leader."

"But they've got arms."

"Only hand weapons," broke in Carter contemptuously. "We're as good as
they are--thar ain't no powder."

"Sure of that?"

"Course I am. I cleaned up that rack two days ago. There's ball in the
bandoliers, but no powder. I wus goin' ter break open a cask, but
Estada put me at another job."

"Then that leaves us on even footing, lads, we ought to be equal to
them with the cold steel--can any of you see below?"

CHAPTER XXIV

IN CLASP OF THE SEA

The sound of voices, of moving bodies and bits of furniture overturned
were plainly discernible, but the darkness was far too dense below to
permit the eye perceiving what was taking place. Yet I could picture
the scene, the leaderless mob surging blindly forward, each man vocal
in his own tongue, swaying with rage, many smarting with wounds,
uncertain where we had disappeared, yet all alike crazed with a desire
to attain the open deck. The rattle of steel, the curses, told me some
among them had reached the arm rack, and seized whatever weapons they
found there. In their struggle the rack was overturned, an