ern-gallery and so the
sea itself. And now, laying by the hat and cloak I cast myself on
Adam's bed and there outstretched in great content, hearkened to the
distant voices and tramp of feet where they laboured to put out the
fire.

Little by little these sounds became merged with the droning of the
wind and the never-ceasing surge and hiss of the seas; lulled by this
and the sense of my comparative safety, I presently fell a-slumbering.
And sleeping thus, dreamed myself young again and playing with the
child Damaris, thrilling to the clasp of her little, childish hands,
joying in the tones of her clear, sweet child voice--she that grown up
I knew for none other than Joan Brandon.

CHAPTER XXI

TELLETH HOW THE SAID FIRE CAME ABOUT

"Lord love me, shipmate, here's you to hang at peep o' day and
a-smiling in your dreams!"

"What--Adam!" says I, sitting up.

"In few short hours, Martin, here will be ninety odd souls earnestly
seeking to swing you up to the main-yard and you a-slumbering sweet as
any innocent babe, and burn me, shipmate, I love you the better for't!"

"What of the fire, Adam?"

"Why, 'twas an excellent fire, Martin, and smoked bravely! What's more
it served its divers purposes whiles it lasted."

"Is it out then, Adam?"

"This two hours."

"And what might you mean by its purposes?"

"Well, mayhap you were one o' them, Martin. Here's the second time
fire hath served ye well, you'll mind."

"How!" I cried, starting to my feet, "Will you be telling me 'twas you
set this fire going?"

"As to the other purpose, shipmate, 'tis yonder--hark to it!" And
smiling grimly, Adam held up a sinewy finger, as, from somewhere
forward, rose a confused and dismal wailing.

"In heaven's name what's toward now, Adam?"

"The crew are singing, Martin, likewise they dance, presently they
shall fall a-quarrelling, then grow pot-valiant, all in regular and
accepted order. Already one poor rogue hath been aft to demand the
women of us d'ye see, and--"

"To demand the women!" says I in gasping astonishment.

"Aye, the women, Martin--my Lady Joan and her maid, d'ye see."

"God's love, Adam!" I cried, gripping his arm, "And you--what said you
to the vile dog?"

"Nought! I shot him!"

"Is the mutiny broke out then?"

"Not yet, shipmate, but 'tis coming, aye 'tis coming, which is very
well--"

"And what hath brought things to this pass?"

"Rum, Martin! The fire was in the store-room where there i