“Mr Conyers will acquaint you with his decision in due time, when he has had leisure for reflection,” said she, in those haughtily scornful tones of hers that I remembered so well. Then I felt and yielded to the pressure of her guiding hand, and presently found myself groping my way, with her assistance, down the companion ladder and into the cabin. She guided me to one of the sofa-lockers, upon which I mechanically seated myself; and then I saw her go to the swinging rack and pour out a good stiff modicum of brandy, which she brought and held to my lips. I swallowed the draught, and after a few seconds my senses returned to me, almost as though I were recovering from a swoon, Miss Onslow assisting my recovery by seating herself beside me and fanning me with her pocket-handkerchief, gazing anxiously in my face the while.

“There, you are better now!” she exclaimed encouragingly, as she continued to regard me. “Oh, Mr Conyers,” she continued, “I am so very sorry to see you thus. But I am not surprised, after all the hardship, and anxiety, and hard work that you have been called upon to endure since the wreck of the unfortunate City of Cawnpore. What you have so bravely borne has been more than sufficient to undermine the health of the strongest man; and now, when we hoped that a few hours more would bring us to the end of our troubles, comes the cruel shock and disappointment of these wretches’ base ingratitude to complete what hardship, anxiety, and suffering have begun. But cheer up; all is not yet lost, by any means; our deliverance is merely deferred until you shall have carried out the wishes of these men; therefore, since we have no alternative, let us accept the inevitable with a good grace—do what they require as speedily as may be, and so bring this unfortunate adventure to an end. And,” she continued, after a barely perceptible pause, “have no anxiety on my account; O’Gorman and his accomplices will not molest me if you will but conform to their wishes. And, if they should, I shall be prepared for them: ‘Fore-warned is fore-armed’!”

You may imagine how deeply ashamed of myself and of my late weakness I felt as I listened to the heroic words of this delicately-nurtured girl, who had known nothing either of danger, privation, or hardship until this frightful experience of all three had come to her with the wreck of the ship which was to have conveyed her to her father’s arms. Yet terrible as her situation was, she uttered no word of repining, her courage was immeasurably superior to mine; her sympathy was all for me; there was no apprehension on her own behalf; and now, at the moment when a new and dreadful trouble had come upon the top of all that we had previously undergone, when our brightest hopes were dashed to the ground, it was she who found it needful to encourage me, instead of I having to comfort and encourage her!

Nor would she permit me to suffer the humiliation of having proved less strong than herself; at the first word of apology and self-condemnation that I uttered she silenced me by laying the whole blame upon the anxiety and fatigue to which I had been of late exposed; and when at length she had salved the wound inflicted upon my self-esteem by my recent loss of self-control, she set about the task of coaxing me to yield with at least an apparent good grace to the demands of the men—seeing that we were completely in their power, and could do no otherwise—in order that we might secure such full measure of good treatment from them as they might be disposed to accord to us. And so convincingly did she argue that, despite my reluctance to acknowledge myself conquered, I at length gave in; being influenced chiefly thereto, not by Miss Onslow’s arguments, but by the galling conviction that in this way only could I hope to save her from the violence with which the scoundrels had almost openly threatened her in the event of my non-compliance.

This matter settled, I went on deck, where I found the entire crew congregated about the binnacle, awaiting me. They watched my approach in silence—and, as I thought, with ill-concealed anxiety—until I was within two paces of the group, when I halted, regarding them steadfastly. By this time I had completely recovered the command of my temper, and my self-possession; and as I noted their anxious looks I began to realise that, after all, these fellows were by no means so independent of me that they would be likely to wantonly provoke me; and I resolved to bring that point well home to them, with the view of driving the most advantageous bargain possible.

“Well, men,” said I, “I have considered your proposal;—and have come to the conclusion that I will accede to it—upon certain conditions which I will set forth in due course. But, first of all, I should like to know what you would have done supposing I had not happened to have been a navigator?”

The rest of the men looked at O’Gorman, and he replied:

“Oh, you’d just have had to join us, or have gone overboard.”

“Yes,” said I. “And what then? How would you have managed without anyone to have navigated the ship for you?”

“We should ha’ had to ha’ done the best we could,” replied Price nonchalantly.