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"He will not fire at you." "But he may hit us, sir." "Open that hatch, Mr Preddle," cried Brymer, and he cocked his pistol, Mr Frewen following suit. "That's right, sir; fire too, in case I miss." "But," cried the man, imploringly, "let me stay on deck, and I'll return to my duty." "We don't want you, dog!" cried Mr Frewen.
"Thank God!" cried a voice behind me, and I turned to see that it was Mr Frewen, who now ran to the entrance of the saloon, where I saw him grasping Miss Denning's and her brother's hands, and I knew he was saying "Saved!" Directly after he was back with us, who were carefully lifting Mr Brymer, while Mr Preddle lay so motionless that I was afraid he was dead.
That night passed quietly enough, and a soft breeze rose to send us gently through the water, Mr Brymer giving his instructions to the men at the wheel as to the course they were to steer, though I had not the least notion where we were bound for now.
"And suppose those scoundrels return, sir, what then?" cried Mr Brymer. Bob Hampton scratched his head. "Ah, you may well say what then, sir," he grumbled. "I hadn't thought o' that. Don't think they will come, do you?" "It is possible. They left in a scare, but if they see the ship still floating they may come back."
Then Dale here shall take them to the cook; the excuse for their being opened is to be that so many tins have gone bad." "Which is true enough," said the captain, feebly. "Exactly," continued Mr Brymer; "and these were opened to make sure that they were all right." "Well?"
"I am not likely to talk about it to anybody unless it be to Mr Denning," I said, feeling a little hurt. "Then pray don't mention it to him. It would only make him and his sister uneasy," cried Mr Frewen, quickly. "I'm afraid they've seen enough for themselves," said Mr Brymer. "Look here, youngster, I shall speak plainly to you, because you are a sensible lad.
"You rose," said Mr Brymer. "No, sir, I didn't; I'm only a cook, and not a fighting man. One does lots of things when a pistol's held to your head as you wouldn't do other times." "Bring the biscuit and water," said Mr Frewen, "and I'll speak to the men. They will not use pistols when they know food is going to be given to them." The cook shook his head. "You don't know Jarette, sir," he said.
I cried again, but I must confess that the sight of that pistol levelled at the boat altered my voice, so that it trembled slightly and I gazed at it rather wildly, expecting to see a puff of smoke from the muzzle. "Hail again, Dale," cried Mr Brymer. "Never mind his pistol, my lad. It would take a better shot than he is to hit us as we sail." "Mr Denning, ahoy!" I shouted once more.
"Now, sir," said Mr Brymer, firmly, "you know how we stand. I'm horribly averse to taking life, but things cannot go on as they are." "No," said the captain, in a voice hardly above a whisper. "You must act now, and firmly, before there is loss of life on our side." "That means then," said Mr Frewen, "shooting down every man who attacks us."
"Don't don't fire," one of the men yelled. "We give in." "Yes, yes; give in," came in a wild chorus. "The beggars surrender, sir," cried Bob Hampton, who was on his knees re-charging the cannon. "But get that there poker ready again, Neb. We'll hit 'em next time if they don't." "Ahoy!" cried Mr Brymer, through a speaking-trumpet.
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