the sail-cloth.

"This is too much," cried Terry. "You meddling young fool!"

Syd flushed for a moment into anger. "Roylance! Strake!" he cried,
"take that idiot away." As he turned from the astounded middy, he threw
off his jacket, gave one glance at Dallas, whose eyes were fixed upon
him in a wild despairing way; and then knife in hand he was down upon
his knees.

"Here, Barney," he said, in cool firm tones, as recollections of what he
had seen in the wood at home played once more through his brain; "down
on your knees there by his head, and bathe his face with the cold water.
Keep back on the windward side," he continued. "Mr Roylance, let four
men hold a sail over us to keep off the sun."

His orders were so full of the force which makes men obey, that they
were acted upon at once; and all the time Syd was on his knees busy.

Without a moment's hesitation he had inserted his sharp knife at the
left knee-band, and slit up the garment right to the groin, laying bare
a ghastly wound that seemed to go right to the bone, and from which the
blood came in one spot with a regular throb, throb, which Syd knew meant
death before long if it was not stopped.

"Water, here!" he shouted.

"I must protest against this boy's meddling," cried Terry. "Mr Belton,
let him die in peace."

"Mr Roylance--" came in faint tones from the white lips of the wounded
man, "take--Mr Terry--"

He fainted as he spoke, but it was enough. At a word from the
midshipman two of the sailors secured Terry by the wrists, and he was
forced away, while two other men ran for a bucket of water.

"Leave his head now, Barney," cried Syd, in a quick, decided voice.
"Your neckerchief, man. Quick, roll it up."

This was handed to the young operator, who passed it under Dallas's limb
far up, tied it round in a knot, called for a jack-knife, and then
shouted to the willing man who handed it to shut it up. This done he
passed the knife inside the neckerchief, pressed it down on the inner
part of the thigh, and then took his sheathed dirk from his belt.

This he also passed under the neckerchief, and began to twist round a
few turns, drawing the bandage tightly down on the knife-handle, which,
as he still twisted, was forced firmly home, pressing the artery against
the bone.

This done, and the dirk secured so that it could not twist back, Syd
turned to the gaping wound, from which the blood still welled, but
sluggishly. The water was ready,