d to perform all
the dirty jobs. The men, knowing I was a gentleman's son, took pleasure
in seeing me thus employed. Mark would willingly have helped me, but he
was always sent aft to some other work when seen near me.

I would gladly have changed places with him, but he told me that he was
as badly off as I was forward, for he got as much kicked about by the
captain and officers as I was by the men.

I had no one to talk to, for I could seldom get the opportunity of
saying much to him. I felt that I had not a friend aboard. The men,
when they had exhausted a few fresh provisions which they themselves had
purchased, again began to grumble at the bad quality of their food.
They took care, however, to say nothing when the third mate was forward,
but they went about their duty in a manner which it seemed surprising he
did not observe.

One evening, being my watch below, still feeling the effect of the rough
handling I had endured, I had crept into my berth to be out of the way
of my persecutors. Mark, as usual, was attending to his duties in the
cabin.

I had fallen asleep, when I was awakened by hearing some men speaking
close to me, though it was too dark to see who they were, and even if
they had looked into my berth they would not have discovered me; but I
recognised the voices of old Growles and the boatswain, and two other
men, who were the worst of the crew and the leading spirits for bad on
board. I was not much alarmed, though I scarcely dared to breathe for
fear of attracting their notice. I cannot repeat all they said, for
they frequently made allusions which they knew that each other
understood; but I heard enough to convince me that they were hatching a
plot to overpower the officers and passengers, and to take the vessel
into Buenos Aires, or some other place on the banks of the River Plate.
One of the men proposed killing them and throwing them overboard. Old
Growles suggested that they should be put into a boat and allowed to
shift for themselves, just as their officers were treated by the
mutineers of the "Bounty." The boatswain said that he thought the best
way of treating them would be to put them on shore on some desert island
far-away to the southward, seldom visited by ships, so that they could
not make their escape.

"But they'll die of hunger, if you do that," remarked another man.

"They'll die, at all events, so it matters little," answered the
boatswain. "Our business is to get r