CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.

The astounding intelligence, conveyed by the final sentence of this
staggering speech, deprived me for the moment of the power of motion.

"A barrel of powder aboard!" These were his very words, and I had no
reason to doubt that they were true. On the contrary, his behaviour,
and that of those who were with him, went far to prove their truth. On
no other supposition could I account for their haste to be gone; but the
hypothesis of the powder at once explained it. Beyond a doubt the
speech was true. There was a barrel of powder aboard! Both he and the
mate were aware of it.

The dastards had made a sort of compromise with their consciences in now
declaring it. They had preserved silence about it until they were
themselves safe. If they had divulged the secret sooner, the whole crew
might have followed them into the gig--dreading to stay any longer on
board--and, therefore, they might not have got off so snugly. Now,
however, that they were themselves beyond danger, there could be no harm
in letting the others know it, as it might quicken their efforts at
escape. Of course they did not desire to see their old associates blown
into the air--if it could be helped without any risk to themselves--but
they had taken good care to remove the risk, before offering any hint
about the probable catastrophe.

The skipper, as soon as he had given utterance to the appalling speech,
sank back upon his seat; and, pulling along with the rest, the gig moved
rapidly away.

I say that the astounding intelligence deprived me of the power of
motion, and equally so of speech. It occurred to me to ask for an
explanation--an additional averment as confirmation of its truth; but,
before I could recover myself, it was too late--the boat was almost
beyond hail. It would be no use shouting after. They would not hear,
or, if they did, would not heed me; and what mattered it, for I could
not doubt but what the man had said was meant as serious truth. Though
not sober, he would hardly have jested then, and in such a fashion. The
time and the circumstances were too solemn for jest--even for him,
unfeeling fiend that he was.

No; he had spoken but the truth--the simple truth. Beyond all hope of a
doubt there was a barrel of powder on board the _Pandora_!

Where was it? In the store-room, now filled with fire? where else was
it likely to be? on the half-deck, or in the hold? No--not probable--
none of us ha