it, on the outside of this boat."

While these strange words were yet in her mouth, three of the sailors
suddenly rose up with their knives drawn, and eyes full of murder, and
staggered aft as fast as their enfeebled bodies could.

Hazel uttered a loud cry, "Welch! Cooper! will you see us butchered?"
and, unshipping the helm, rose to his feet.

Cooper put out his arm to stop Mackintosh, but was too late. He did stop
Morgan, however, and said, "Come, none of that; no foul play!"

Irritated by this unexpected resistance, and maddened by drink, Morgan
turned on Cooper and stabbed him; he sank down with a groan; on this
Welch gave Morgan a fearful gash, dividing his jugular, and was stabbed,
in return, by Prince, but not severely; these two grappled and rolled
over one another, stabbing and cursing at the bottom of the boat;
meantime, Mackintosh was received by Hazel with a point blank thrust in
the face from the helm that staggered him, though a very powerful man,
and drove him backward against the mast; but, in delivering this thrust,
Hazel's foot slipped, and he fell with great violence on his head and
arm; Mackintosh recovered himself, and sprang upon the stern thwart with
his knife up and gleaming over Helen Rolleston. Hazel writhed round where
he lay, and struck him desperately on the knee with the helm. The poor
woman knew only how to suffer; she cowered a little, and put up two
feeble hands.

The knife descended.

But not upon that cowering figure.

CHAPTER XXI.

A PURPLE rippling line upon the water had for some time been coming down
upon them with great rapidity; but, bent on bloody work, they had not
observed it. The boat heeled over under the sudden gust; but the ruffian
had already lost his footing under Hazel's blow, and, the boom striking
him almost at the same moment, he went clean over the gunwale into the
sea; he struck it with his knife first.

All their lives were now gone if Cooper, who had already recovered his
feet, had not immediately cut the sheet with his knife; there was no time
to slack it; and, even as it was, the lower part of the sail was
drenched, and the boat full of water. "Ship the helm!" he roared.

The boat righted directly the sheet was cut, the wet sail flapped
furiously, and the boat, having way on her yielded to the helm and
wriggled slowly away before the whistling wind.

Mackintosh rose a few yards astern, and swam after the boat, with great
glaring eyes; the loos