undone with terror. Upon these turned Captain Harris, as Ready and I, stemming the torrent of maddened humanity, regained the poop ourselves.     

       “For'ard with ye!” yelled the skipper. “The powder's underneath you in the lazarette!”      

       They were gone like hunted sheep. And now abaft the flaming hatchway there were only we four surviving saloon passengers, the captain, his steward, the Zambesi negro, and the quarter-master at the wheel. The steward and the black I observed putting stores aboard the captain's gig as it overhung the water from the stern davits.     

       “Now, gentlemen,” said Harris to the two of us, “I must trouble you to step forward with the rest. Senhor Santos insists on taking his chance along with the young lady in my gig. I've told him the risk, but he insists, and the gig'll hold no more.”      

       “But she must have a crew, and I can row. For God's sake take me, captain!” cried I; for Eva Denison sat weeping in her deck chair, and my heart bled faint at the thought of leaving her, I who loved her so, and might die without ever telling her my love! Harris, however, stood firm.     

       “There's that quartermaster and my steward, and José the nigger,” said he.       “That's quite enough, Mr. Cole, for I ain't above an oar myself; but, by God, I'm skipper o' this here ship, and I'll skip her as long as I remain aboard!”      

       I saw his hand go to his belt; I saw the pistols stuck there for mutineers. I looked at Santos. He answered me with his neutral shrug, and, by my soul, he struck a match and lit a cigarette in that hour of life and death! Then last I looked at Ready; and he leant invertebrate over the rail, gasping pitiably from his exertions in regaining the poop, a dying man once more. I pointed out his piteous state.     

       “At least,” I whispered, “you won't refuse to take him?”      

       “Will there be anything to take?” said the captain brutally.     

       Santos advanced leisurely, and puffed his cigarette over the poor wasted and exhausted frame.     

       “It is for you to decide, captain,” said he cynically; “but this one will make no deeference. Yes, I would take 

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