wearied out by their journey and their
sufferings, had dropped into a slumber. From time to time one could hear
the dismal clank of fetters, and the start and incatching of the breath,
as some poor peasant, fresh from dreams of his humble homestead amid the
groves of the Mendips, awoke of a sudden to see the great wooden coffin
around him, and to breathe the venomous air of the prison ship.

I lay long awake full of thought both for myself and for the poor souls
around me. At last, however, the measured swash of the water against
the side of the vessel and the slight rise and fall had lulled me into
a sleep, from which I was suddenly aroused by the flashing of a light
in my eyes. Sitting up, I found several sailors gathered about me, and
a tall man with a black cloak swathed round him swinging a lanthorn over
me.

'That is the man,' he said.

'Come, mate, you are to come on deck!' said the seaman armourer. With a
few blows from his hammer he knocked the irons from my feet.

'Follow me!' said the tall stranger, and led the way up the hatchway
ladder. It was heavenly to come out into the pure air once more. The
stars were shining brightly overhead. A fresh breeze blew from the
shore, and hummed a pleasant tune among the cordage. Close beside us
the lights of the town gleamed yellow and cheery. Beyond, the moon was
peeping over the Bournemouth hills.

'This way, sir,' said the sailor, 'right aft into the cabin, sir.'

Still following my guide, I found myself in the low cabin of the brig.
A square shining table stood in the centre, with a bright swinging
lamp above it. At the further end in the glare of the light sat the
captain--his face shining with greed and expectation. On the table stood
a small pile of gold pieces, a rum-flask, glasses, a tobacco-box, and
two long pipes.

'My compliments to you, Captain Clarke,' said the skipper, bobbing his
round bristling head. 'An honest seaman's compliments to you. It seems
that we are not to be shipmates this voyage, after all.'

'Captain Micah Clarke must do a voyage of his own,' said the stranger.

At the sound of his voice I sprang round in amazement. 'Good Heavens!' I
cried, 'Saxon!'

'You have nicked it,' said he, throwing down his mantle and showing the
well-known face and figure of the soldier of fortune. 'Zounds, man! if
you can pick me out of the Solent, I suppose that I may pick you out of
this accursed rat-trap in which I find you. Tie and tie, as we say at