pass it in here, it may prevent some of us
from stumbling. Don't be afraid of the
women and children, Davis. They shall not
endanger the brave men who are saving
them."

I left her at once to get the torch. The
Pirate Captain was still fast asleep as I stole
on tiptoe, into the hall, and took it from the
tent. When I returned, and gave it to Miss
Maryon, her sister's little deaf and dumb boy
saw me, and, slipping between us, caught
tight hold of one of my hands. Having been
used to riding on my shoulders for so many
days, he had taken a fancy to me; and,
when I tried to put him away, he only clung
the tighter, and began to murmur in his
helpless dumb way. Slight as the noise was
which the poor little fellow could make, we
all dreaded it. His mother wrung her hands
in despair when she heard him; and Mr.
Fisher whispered to me for Heaven's sake to
quiet the child, and humour him at any cost.
I immediately took him up in my arms, and
went back to Short.

"Sling him on my back," says I, "as you
slung the little girl on your own the first day
of the march. I want both my hands, and
the child won't be quiet away from me."

Short did as I asked him in two minutes.
As soon as he had finished, Mr. Macey passed
the word on to me, that the quarter of an
hour was up; that it was time to try the
experiment with Drooce; and that it was necessary
for us all to humour him by feigning
sleep. We obeyed. Looking out of the
corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Macey take the
mad Serjeant's arm, point round to us all,
and then lead him out. Holding tight by Mr.
Macey, Drooce stepped as lightly as a woman,
with as bright and wicked a look of cunning
as ever I saw in any human eyes. They
crossed the hall—Mr. Macey pointed to the
Pirate Captain, and whispered, " Hush!"—
the Serjeant imitated the action and repeated
the word—then the two stepped over his
body (Drooce cautiously raising his feet the
highest), and disappeared through the portico.
We waited to hear if there was any noise or
confusion. Not a sound.

I got up, and Short handed me his jacket
for the gag. The child, having been startled
from his sleep by the light of the torch, when
I brought it in, had fallen off again, already,
on my shoulder. "Now for it," says I, and
stole out into the hall.

I stopped at the tent, went in, and took
the first knife I could find there. With the
weapon between my teeth, with the little
innocent asleep on my shoulder, with the
jacket held ready in both hands, I kneeled
down on one knee at the Pirate Captain's
head, and fixed my eyes steadily on his ugly
sleeping face.

The sailors came out first, with their shoes
in their hands. No sound of footsteps from
any one of them. No movement in the ugly
face as they passed over it.

The women and children were ready next.
Robert, the ship's boy, lifted the children
over: most of them holding their little hands
over their mouths to keep from laughing—
so well had Robert persuaded them that we
were only playing a game. The women
passed next, all as light as air; after them,
in obedience to a sign from me, my
comrades of the Marines, holding their shoes
in their hands, as the sailors had done before
them. So far, not a word had been spoken,
not a mistake had been made—so far, not a
change of any sort had passed over the
Pirate Captain's face.

There were left now in the hall, besides
myself and the child on my back, only Mr.
Fisher and Mr. Pordage. Mr. Pordage!
Up to that moment, in the risk and excitement
of the time, I had not once thought of
him.

I was forced to think of him now, though;
and with anything but a friendly feeling.

At the sight of the Pirate Captain, asleep
across the way out, the unfortunate,
mischievous old simpleton tossed up his head,
and folded his arms, and was on the point of
breaking out loud into a spoken document
of some kind, when Mr. Fisher wisely and
quickly clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Government despatches outside," whispers
Mr. Fisher, in an agony. "Secret service.
Forty-nine reports from head-quarters, all
waiting for you half a mile off. I'll show
you the way, sir. Don't wake that man
there, who is asleep: he must know nothing
about it—he represents the Public."

Mr. Pordage suddenly looked very knowing
and hugely satisfied with himself. He
followed Mr. Fisher to within a foot of the
Pirate Captain's body—then stopped short.

"How many reports?" he asked, very
anxiously.

"Forty-nine," said Mr. Fisher. "Come
along, sir,—and step clean over the Public,
whatever you do."

Mr. Pordage instantly stepped over, as
jauntily as if he was going to dance. At the
moment of his crossing, a hanging rag of his
cursed, useless, unfortunate, limp Diplomatic
coat touched the Pirate Captain's forehead,
and woke him.

I drew back softly, with the child still
asleep on my shoulder, into the black
shadow of the wall behind me. At the
instant when the Pirate Captain awoke, I had
been looking at Mr. Pordage, and had
consequently lost the chance of applying the gag
to his mouth suddenly, at the right time.

On rousing up, he turned his face inwards,
towards the prisoners' room. If he had
turned it outwards, he must to a dead
certainty have seen the tail of Mr. Pordage's
coat, disappearing in the portico.

Though he was awake enough to move, he
was not awake enough to have the full
possession of his sharp senses. The drowsiness
of his sleep still hung about him. He