"From the beginning there was really nothing to prevent us taking
possession of the ship. The crew were a set of ruffians, specially
picked for the job. The sham chaplain came into our cells to exhort us,
carrying a black bag, supposed to be full of tracts; and so often did he
come that by the third day we had each stowed away at the foot of our
bed a file, a brace of pistols, a pound of powder, and twenty slugs. Two
of the warders were agents of Prendergast, and the second mate was his
right-hand man. The captain, the two mates, two warders, Lieutenant
Martin, his eighteen soldiers, and the doctor were all that we had
against us. Yet, safe as it was, we determined to neglect no precaution,
and to make our attack suddenly at night. It came, however, more quickly
than we expected, and in this way:--

"One evening, about the third week after our start, the doctor had come
down to see one of the prisoners, who was ill, and, putting his hand
down on the bottom of his bunk, he felt the outline of the pistols. If
he had been silent he might have blown the whole thing; but he was a
nervous little chap, so he gave a cry of surprise and turned so pale,
that the man knew what was up in an instant and seized him. He was
gagged before he could give the alarm, and tied down upon the bed. He
had unlocked the door that led to the deck, and we were through it in a
rush. The two sentries were shot down, and so was a corporal who came
running to see what was the matter. There were two more soldiers at the
door of the state-room, and their muskets seemed not to be loaded, for
they never fired upon us, and they were shot while trying to fix their
bayonets. Then we rushed on into the captain's cabin, but as we pushed
open the door there was an explosion from within, and there he lay with
his head on the chart of the Atlantic, which was pinned upon the table,
while the chaplain stood, with a smoking pistol in his hand, at his
elbow. The two mates had both been seized by the crew, and the whole
business seemed to be settled.

[Illustration: "THE CHAPLAIN STOOD WITH A SMOKING PISTOL IN HIS HAND."]

"The state-room was next the cabin, and we flocked in there and flopped
down on the settees all speaking together, for we were just mad with the
feeling that we were free once more. There were lockers all round, and
Wilson, the sham chaplain, knocked one of them in, and pulled out a
dozen of brown sherry. We cracked off the necks of the bottles, p