A strict watch was kept, of course, and there was a slight alarm once, but it passed off; and the sun rose again, with the wind dropping, and leaving us once more rocking gently upon the smooth ocean.
We were all in better spirits though, thanks to the cook and the few hours of rest every one had managed to snatch. Mr Frewen gave us the news, too, that the captain was decidedly better, and that Miss Denning was nursing him constantly.
This was a bit of relief to me, for it kept Miss Denning in the cabin, and I was determined not to let her see my face till I looked different.
About an hour later, first one and then another crawled along the deck very silently to try and make out what was going on in the forecastle.
I did not go, neither did Mr Frewen or Mr Preddle. Mr Denning was in the captain’s cabin resting; but all came back with the same story, one which relieved me, for I was startled, thinking that the party were all smothered by being shut down in the cabin place in such hot weather.
Dumlow, Blane, and Bob Hampton all said that the men were sleeping, and that they thought they had been at the drink.
Mr Brymer crept close up in his turn, listened for some time, and confirmed the men’s statement.
“Getting ready for a fresh attack,” he said. “I’ll have a talk to the captain as to what is to be done.”
He placed another trusty man on duty, ready to give the alarm if the mutineers woke and tried to break out, and then proposed that we should all go into the captain’s cabin and have a council of war once more.
“Think he can bear it, Frewen?” he said.