I worked eagerly with all the rest till the big entry was completely filled up, Mr Frewen taking the lead, and lifting and packing in the chests, till the solid wall was formed—one so well bonded together, as a bricklayer would call it, that it seemed to me that it would require a battering-ram to force a way through.
As I walked away, hurrying eagerly first into one cabin and then another, in search of trunks and portmanteaus that would fit into the various openings, I suddenly found myself face to face with Miss Denning, whose pallid countenance lit-up on seeing me, and she held out her hand to cling to mine.
“Oh, Mr Dale,” she whispered half hysterically, “is there much danger?”
“Oh no, I hope not,” I said, speaking in an encouraging way; but she shook her head.
“Don’t—don’t speak to me like that,” she cried. “I’m not a child. Be frank with me, and tell me as if I were your sister. There is danger, is there not?”
“Well, I’m afraid there’ll be a fight,” I said; “but we have plenty of firearms, and we’ve got right on our side, and I hope we shall give the scoundrels such a lesson that they will come down on their knees.”
“I’m afraid not,” she said. “But tell me, why is it? Is it what they call a mutiny? I thought all such things were over now.”
“So did I, Miss Denning,” I said; “but that’s what it is. I never thought of it before, but I suppose we must have a very valuable cargo on board.”
“Yes, my brother said there was a large sum in specie.”
“Money, that is, isn’t it?” I said. “Well then, that’s what has tempted the scoundrels. But don’t you be frightened. Mr Frewen and the rest will take care that the blackguards don’t get into the cabin, and I’m going to try if I cannot fight too.”