Giving them a gentle shake apiece, to arouse them, he sat down beside them and asked them bluntly if they felt disposed to run a little risk in an attempt to retake the barque, and so avoid a French prison.

“You may reckon on me for one, sir, if you’ve hit upon anything likely in the shape of a plan,” heartily answered the chief mate; “and Cross here, I know, won’t hold back either, unless I’m greatly mistaken in him.”

“Never fear,” said Cross; “if you give the word, sir, and the ship is to be retook, we’ll have her. But how do you propose to do it?—it’ll have to be a surprise, I s’pose?”

“Listen,” said George. “What I propose is this. The stern-ports are all open; and I believe that, by assisting each other, we may manage to creep out through them on to the main-brace boom-iron, and thence make our way along the ship’s side, outside the bulwarks, forward, when, by watching our opportunity, we may possibly manage to overpower the guard on the forecastle, throw off the hatch, and release our own lads, and then we must just make a fight for it. We may perhaps—we three—manage to take along with us a cutlass and a brace of pistols each; but the men must do the best they can with hand-spikes, belaying-pins, and, in short, anything they can lay their hands upon.”

“A very promising plan indeed, sir,” answered the chief mate. “The next question is, when are we to set about it?”

“The sooner the better,” answered George; “so go at once, please, for your pistols; load them carefully; take a cutlass each from the rack; and then we will proceed to business.”

In a very few minutes the trio were ready. Going softly into George’s state-room, they paused for a minute or two to listen for any sounds which might furnish them with a clue to the condition of affairs on deck; but nothing was to be heard, save the occasional clank of the wheel-chains, and the low humming of a song by the helmsman.

“It is all curiously quiet on deck,” whispered George to his two companions; “I can’t quite make it out; it undoubtedly means one of two things, however—either they are keeping a very strict and careful watch, or none at all; we shall soon see which. Now, Cross, stand by to give me a hoist, if I seem to require it; I will go first, and as soon as I am fairly out of the way, Mr Bowen can follow.”

Kicking off his boots and stockings, the skipper thereupon, without further ado, mounted the lockers, and passing his body cautiously out of the weathermost stern-port, held on by the edge of the port with one hand, whilst he reached out and felt for the brace-iron with the other. This he soon found, and grasping it firmly with his right hand, began to work himself cautiously towards it. The task he had set himself proved, however, to be much more difficult than he had expected; the rake of the ship’s stern so greatly interfering with his freedom of motion that at first he feared he would be obliged to abandon the attempt altogether, as he foresaw that, the moment he released his hold upon the edge of the port, he must infallibly swing off backwards, and, unless he could manage to retain his grasp of the iron, drop overboard. So he slipped in through the port again, to explain this difficulty to the mates, and to caution them to be careful when it came to their turn, and then resumed his attempt.

Once more securing a firm grasp upon the brace-iron, he watched the roll of the ship, and, seizing the first favourable opportunity, boldly swung himself off into the air, where he hung suspended by one arm, with his feet almost touching the water. In another moment he had both hands upon the iron, and, giving himself a vigorous upward swing, he was soon able to throw his feet over the tautly-strained main-brace. To scramble up and place himself astride the brace-block was now an easy task, and, settling himself firmly there, he prepared to assist the chief mate, when he should make his appearance.