“No; I must go on deck. There’s everything to do, and we’re short-handed. I’ll leave you the light.”
“Thank you, yes,” he cried, wringing my hand.
“Tell Miss Denning I’m so glad,” I said hastily; and then I hurried out. But I was no sooner outside than I remembered my message, and ran back, to find, as I expected, that Miss Denning was sobbing on her brother’s shoulder; when to my horror she left him, and with a cry flung her arms about my neck and kissed me.
“Oh, Alison Dale,” she cried warmly, “bless you, and thank you! You have always been like a dear good brother to us both, ever since we have been on board.”
“He has—he has,” cried Mr Denning warmly, and he looked as pleased as could be at his sister’s behaviour; while as for me, I would have given anything to be outside the cabin. For to a lad of my age, being thanked for what I had done was painful in the extreme; and in a hurried way I hastened to tell them my message, and briefly about how we had found friends in the mutineers’ ranks, and then of our attack and success.
But my stay was brief. We had so far mastered one enemy, but were suffering from the attack of another, which we had ignored for a time; while now it was impressing itself upon us all, as I soon found, in a very serious way.
On reaching the deck, along which I had to guide myself by holding on by the side, and catching at rope and belaying-pin, I found that the sea had risen higher, and the wind was rushing through the rigging with almost hurricane force. But I made my way to the forecastle-hatch, where Mr Preddle was still on guard, as I could see by the light of the swaying lantern, and Mr Brymer was with him.
“Ah, Dale,” he cried, “I’m glad you’ve come. I want you to stay on guard with Mr Preddle. You have a pistol?”
“Yes,” I said, pointing to my belt.
“That’s right. I want to go to the wheel. Hampton is there now. I should like to do more, but it is terrible work now, short-handed as we are; and we must run on in this blind fashion, for I have no idea where we are.”