It was towards the dawn that, stopping in my walk, I listened, and heard amid the whistling of the wind and the wash of the water a little mutter of sound somewhere in the disintegrating darkness below. I called to Legrand under my breath, and I heard his "hist." He was at attention, his ears straining in the wind to get news of what was passing. Then there was a shot, and the noise of a mêlée at the ladder. Oaths and shouts and the reports of revolvers echoed from the wooden walls.
"Can you see, Phillimore?" screamed Legrand against the wind.
"They are attacking the gangway," I shouted back. One of the two men who stood armed near me rushed forward.
"Go back, go back," thundered Legrand from the bridge. "Go to your post."
I was aware that the Prince had come out on the hurricane deck, which was on the level of the bridge, and as I peered into the gloom, suddenly a shout from the second man in my neighbourhood made me wheel sharply about. I turned in time to see him fire at some figures that came over the port side of the yacht. Immediately I guessed that this was the real attack, and that the assault on the ladder was but a diversion, I ran forward, calling to Legrand, I found Barraclough on the other side of the deck-houses, using a cutlass, and I moved to his assistance. Three men had reached the deck, and a fourth was clambering over. The seaman who had called out fired wide, and the next moment went down under a heavy blow from the figure in front. I discharged a shot, but missed the man as he made his rush. Barraclough simultaneously gave way, and I saw him being pushed backwards against the side of the saloon. I fired again at one of his assailants, who fell away with a curse, and just then the first flush of the coming dawn moved over the waters, and shed a little light on the scene. It disclosed the burly form of Holgate in grips with Legrand, who had descended from the bridge, and Barraclough still struggling with his opponent. I had just time to make this out when one of the mutineers struck at me with a heavy bar, and the blow, owing to a movement on my part, fell on my right arm and paralysed it. He raised his weapon again while I fumbled to get the revolver out of my useless hand into my left, when Day suddenly emerged from somewhere with a levelled pistol. My antagonist dropped like a log. Day fired again, and then with an oath Holgate threw the second officer heavily to the deck, and pointed a revolver. There was a pause of two seconds, then a report, and Day slipped, moved his arms helplessly, and slid along the deck. A shout now came from the other side of the ship where the struggle at the gangway had been going on; and in a moment a stampede was upon us.
I was forced back by sheer weight of numbers to the head of the companion-way, using my weapon with some wildness, for all was passing before me in confusion. I had received a hard crack on the head and scarcely knew what I was doing, but was merely sustained in my resistance by a sense of continuity, inherited, as it were, from the earlier part of the struggle. Somehow I found myself in the shelter of the corridor that led to the apartments of the Prince, his sister and his guest, and, for some reason I could not with my dizzy head conjecture, I was alone. I looked down the corridor, which was in gentle light, but saw nothing; it was as silent as though it had been plunged in the profound peace and slumber of the night. Without, the racket of noises reached me as in a dream, and I remember that I sat down on a couch in the corridor, my empty revolver in my hand.
What ensued or how long I sat there I do not know; but I think it could not have been very long. I was aroused by a voice, and looked up stupidly. A face floated in the mists before me, and I nodded in a friendly way, smiling, and opened my mouth to speak. Instead I lurched forward and was conscious of warm arms, the soft pressure of a human body, and the fragrance of a dress. There was a time when I seemed to sway alone in a cold and dreary vacancy, but soon there returned to my senses the warmth and the fragrance and the ineffable comfort of some presence. Some liquid was forced between my lips, and I drank; and as I drank my brain cleared, and I looked and was aware who was supporting me with her arm. It was Princess Alix.
"Madam——" I began stuttering.
"Hush! Drink this," she said quickly. "We have need of you. We cannot spare a man like you. You have no dangerous wound?"
"I think not," I said with difficulty. "A blow on the head——"