he arms were mostly on deck, but the ammunition, provisions, and most
of their scanty supply of water was below.

They were in a terrible situation. What deed of desperation the
negroes might do it was impossible to tell. There were matches; they
might fire the ship. There was the rum; they might still gain the
upper hand of all, when nerved and further crazed by liquor.

Two lanterns shed a melancholy light fore and aft. The wind had died
away and the heavens were sprinkled with stars.

Gary placed two men fully armed, at each hatch, then called the rest to
the quarter-deck for a consultation. He was calm, cool, yet heartless
and vindictive as ever.

Without caring for the men already sacrificed, he seemed only anxious
to save his vessel and as many of his mutinous victims as he might now
be able to carry into port. For Duff and Ralph he, even now, scarcely
veiled his dislike as he sat upon the hatch, binding his wounded head
with a handkerchief.

But before much was said, a sailor ran back crying:

"This way! This way! The fiends are after us again."

CHAPTER XXIII.

Adrift.

Seizing their weapons, the wearied men ran forward to the forecastle,
where the negroes had nearly cut another hole through the bulkhead
separating the crew's quarters from the hold.

One of the main hatch guards was holding them at bay, and had managed
to seize the implement with which they had gained their liberty, from
the savage who happened to be using it last. It was part of an old
hand saw, that had, by some neglect, been left unnoticed on the floor
of the hold.

Several shots drove back the blacks, then the hole, which was a small
one, was nailed up and another guard stationed.

Gary's next move was to order the two sound boats lowered and attached
by ropes to the side. He was impressed by this last effort of the
blacks that the worst might happen, and that they had better be
prepared. Once the horde of savages gained the decks, the vessel would
afford no refuge to their hated oppressors.

The night was somewhat advanced. In the horizon a few darker spaces
denoted the presence of clouds, though all above was clear.

The Wanderer's sails hung limp, unless now and then a feeble expansion
caused by some desultory puff be excepted. Gary divided the remainder
of the men into two watches, one of whom he caused to lie down on deck
for a little rest, with their arms at their sides.

Below, amid the darkness,