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"Sorry," he answered, composing himself to sleep. Courtenay glanced at the chronometer. "I must be off," he announced. "Tollemache may need some help with his bombs, and those Chileans require looking after." Christobal, too, quitted the chart-room to visit his patients.

Is it you, Christobal, who has followed the ship's course so closely?" "Not I, my dear fellow. Miss Maxwell is only saying what I feel, indeed, but could not have expressed as admirably. Our silent friend, Tollemache, is the man who observes. I was so amazed when I came on deck half an hour ago that I sought him out, and he told me something of the night's later happenings.

"What do you think of it?" Christobal asked Tollemache, as the latter appeared to be sauntering after the chief officer. "Rot!" said Tollemache. "But what can we do? He is committing suicide." "One must do that occasionally. It's rotten, but it can't be helped." Christobal threw out his hands in a despairing gesture. "I tried to stop him, but I failed," he cried.

Telling Tollemache to mount guard, he raced back to the saloon hatch and summoned assistance. The others searched the ship in small detachments, but the Indians were gone; it was manifest that none beyond those driven off at the first onset had secured a footing on deck.

Each of the men admired her coolness, but Tollemache, who had been quietly scrutinizing the nearer hills, gave painful emphasis to this gruesome topic by exclaiming: "There they are now: smoke signals." Sure enough, thin columns of smoke were rising from several points on the land. It could not be doubted that these were caused by human agency.

Tollemache and Suarez are best able to form an opinion. What do you say, Tollemache?" "Not a bit of use; they are insatiable. The more you give the more they want. The only way to deal with those rotters is to stir them up with a Gatling or a twelve-pounder." Suarez, when appealed to, shook his head.

Tollemache and Walker had dragged out of the smothering spray near the port davits three men who seemed to be merely stunned. These, with the chief officer, and perhaps four survivers of the explosion, made up the list of living but non-effective members of the ship's company.

She went thither, and could not get in to read without certain formalities. While these were being complied with, she was at a stand-still. That same evening came a line from Arthur Wardlaw: "DEAREST HELEN I hear from Mr. Adams that you desire to know the name of the counsel who defended Robert Penfold. It was Mr. Tollemache. He has chambers in Lincoln's Inn. "Ever devotedly yours,

The saloon, the decks, the forecabin, were places of the dead. Fearing lest Elsie might pass, Christobal, before attending to Boyle, had thrown table-cloths over the bodies of men slain in the saloon, for Gray and Tollemache had sternly but vainly striven to repress the second revolt.

She guessed that many of the men, after mounting watch until broad daylight, were asleep. Others were at work below, as was testified by a subdued sound of hammering, with the sharp clink of metal against metal. Walker was tinkering at the engines. With him, in all likelihood, were the captain and Tollemache.