, but I'm very glad you're not such a hard-hearted
scoundrel. Poor boy! he must be famished. Here, give me that knife."

The captain handed the knife, but in doing so brushed his sleeve over
the flame of the candle he carried, and extinguished it.

"How provoking!"

"Never mind," said his brother; "one must do."

As he spoke, the admiral hacked a great piece off the breast of the
pheasant, and added it to the legs and wing.

"There," he said, "that ought to keep him going till breakfast. Must
have a bit o' salt, Harry. Hush!"

He stooped down and blew out the remaining candle, as the captain caught
his arm, and they stood listening.

For the creaking of a door had fallen upon their ears; and partly from
involuntary action consequent upon the dread of being caught in so
unusual a position, partly from the second thought to which he
afterwards gave vent, the admiral sought refuge in the dark.

"Burglars, Harry," he whispered. "They're after your plate."

"Hist! don't speak; we may catch them," was whispered back, and the two
old officers stood listening for what seemed an interminable length of
time before they saw the dim reflection of a light; heard more
whispering, and then the door leading into the larder passage was softly
opened.

"Coming into the trap," thought the captain, as with his heart beating
fast he prepared for the encounter which he foresaw must take place.
"Be ready," he said, with his lips to his brother's ear.

"Right. They're going to board," was whispered back.

They were not long kept in doubt, for the larder door was suddenly
thrown open, and three men dashed in armed with bludgeons and a cutlass.
There was a sharp scuffle in the darkness, in which the two brave old
officers made desperate efforts to master their assailants, but only to
find that their years were against them, and they were completely
overcome.

"You lubbers! Do you give in?" cried a hoarse voice--that of the man
sitting on the captain's chest, while two men were holding down the
admiral, who still heaved and strove to get free.

"Strake, you scoundrel! is it you?" panted the captain.

Barney executed a curious manoeuvre, half bound, half roll, off his
master, and brought up close to one of the larder shelves, while one of
the other men left the admiral and ran out, to return with a light.

The scene was strange. Barney was standing supporting himself against
the larder shelf, with his elbow on the cold s