“But I heard firing and a struggle in the saloon,” cried the captain, clinging to Mr Frewen’s arm.
“Well, yes, we have been re-taking the ship.”
“What?”
“Humph! Poor fellow, he could not bear it,” said Mr Frewen, as Captain Berriman sank back half-fainting, but he re-opened his eyes and clung to the doctor again.
“Too good—to be true,” he muttered. “Thank God—thank God!”
There was perfect silence for a few moments, as our poor wounded captain lay back with his eyes closed. Then with his face losing its feeble, despairing look, he said anxiously—
“I don’t see Brymer; is he hurt?”
“No; quite safe.”
“Mr Preddle?”
“We are all pretty sound, and the mutineers are shut down in the forecastle, sir.”