e ocean, and cast on to the raft, she rose,
and threw herself beside it, sobbing bitterly in her anguish of heart.

A few minutes' pause had ensued after the fearful death scream of the
mutineer, Smith, had rung forth on the night air, for the seamen
consulted together, and the result was soon seen.

On they came with a fierce shout, but this time, taught by experience,
they divided into two parties; one, attacking the captain and his men in
front, received their fire and were soon beaten back, losing one of
their number, the uncertain light alone saving them. The second, under
cover of the diversion, dashed into the cabin, and rifled the arm-chest,
which they broke open.

"Now, my lads, it's our turn," shouted one of the men as he loaded and
fired, hitting the carpenter Morris, who fell uttering a deep groan.

Three of Captain Weber's small party were _hors de combat_. The
carpenter was fast bleeding to death. Hughes was lying senseless on the
planking of the raft, while Adams, whose wound had broken out again, was
in a helpless condition. The ultimate result of the struggle seemed no
longer doubtful.

"It's but a question of time, Lowe," said the captain. "I've always
been kind to the lubbers. Let the scoundrels have the gold--I'll tell
them so."

"Let me go among them, sir."

"No; it is my duty, and Andrew Weber is not the man to shirk it."

Holding up his hand, and putting down the revolver he had in his grasp,
he walked quietly towards the end of the raft where the men were
gathered together.

He saw at once what he had not known before, namely, that through some
negligence they had got at the cases of spirit, and had been drinking
heavily, and he felt all hope was gone. Had they been sober an appeal
to their better sense might have availed--as it was he knew it to be
useless; still there was no other chance left.

"My lads, we've been too long together to be murdering each other this
way. I've never done you wrong. Tell me what ye want," he said.

"We want the gold, you old porpoise, and we'll have it; and we want the
raft, and we will have that, too," was the reply.

"I don't care about the gold, Phillips," replied the old seaman. "It's
all that remains to me, and I had hoped to fit out another craft with
it; but the moan's soon made. Take it."

"Too late! Too late, damn ye!" howled the drunken seaman. "Back to
your quarter-deck, or take the consequences. I say, aft there, look out
f