Some one had gone softly up on to the poop-deck, and was standing just over my head, letting down this something by a string, so that it should lie gently close up to the door.

I could not look right up and see, but I knew as well as could be that it was Jarette there leaning over the rail; and as I watched, the bag—for bag it certainly was—came lower and lower till it nearly touched the deck-planks, when it was swung gently to and fro till it would just touch the door. Then the string was dropped; and it had all been so well managed that the bag, with perhaps ten pounds of powder within, leaned close up.

“The cunning wretch,” I thought to myself, and I was so interested in the plan that I could not withdraw my eyes from the slit, but stood watching to see what would come next.

I was not kept waiting many moments before there was a thick black shower of dust scattered down from above, and I knew that Jarette must be throwing down powder, so as to form a train. And this he did cleverly enough, so that the deck was thick with powder, close up to the bag, and then the train grew thinner, and I felt that he would have to come down on the lower deck to finish his task.

Almost as I thought this, I saw a shadow, just the head and shoulders of a man, cast by the sun upon the deck, and I knew that our enemy was going to descend by the starboard ladder, and pass round to where he could scatter his powder.

And now for a moment I drew back, and whispered to Mr Frewen.

“Let me have the walking-stick now.”

“Right, my lad. Get yours, Mr Preddle, with the big hook.”

I heard a rustling behind me, and hurried back to watch, getting my eye on the deck in time to see a cloud of dust thrown toward the cabin-door, just as a farmer’s man might be sowing some kind of seed broadcast. And all the while, though the firing of that bag of powder would mean destruction, possibly death to some of us, I did not—mind, I who write you this am not boasting, but setting down the simple facts—I did not, I repeat, feel in the slightest decree alarmed, but so full of confidence, that it was like participating in some capital trick which was to result in confusion to a scoundrel.

The dust was thrown still, and I could see something very curious now, for as Jarette suddenly came into sight, I saw the mutineers, led by Walters, all draw back to some distance farther, while Jarette said something to him, I don’t know what, but I think it was insulting, and laughed.