mate, who was a bold and active man. When he saw the convict approaching
him with the bloody knife in his hand, he kicked off his bonds, which he
had somehow contrived to loosen, and rushing down the deck he plunged
into the after-hold.

"A dozen convicts who descended with their pistols in search of him
found him with a match-box in his hand seated beside an open powder
barrel, which was one of a hundred carried on board, and swearing that
he would blow all hands up if he were in any way molested. An instant
later the explosion occurred, though Hudson thought it was caused by the
misdirected bullet of one of the convicts rather than the mate's match.
Be the cause what it may, it was the end of the _Gloria Scott_, and of
the rabble who held command of her.

"Such, in a few words, my dear boy, is the history of this terrible
business in which I was involved. Next day we were picked up by the brig
_Hotspur_, bound for Australia, whose captain found no difficulty in
believing that we were the survivors of a passenger ship which had
foundered. The transport ship, _Gloria Scott_, was set down by the
Admiralty as being lost at sea, and no word has ever leaked out as to
her true fate. After an excellent voyage the _Hotspur_ landed us at
Sydney, where Evans and I changed our names and made our way to the
diggings, where, among the crowds who were gathered from all nations, we
had no difficulty in losing our former identities.

"The rest I need not relate. We prospered, we travelled, we came back as
rich Colonials to England, and we bought country estates. For more than
twenty years we have led peaceful and useful lives, and we hoped that
our past was for ever buried. Imagine, then, my feelings when in the
seaman who came to us I recognised instantly the man who had been picked
off the wreck! He had tracked us down somehow, and had set himself to
live upon our fears. You will understand now how it was that I strove to
keep peace with him, and you will in some measure sympathize with me in
the fears which fill me, now that he has gone from me to his other
victim with threats upon his tongue.

"Underneath is written, in a hand so shaky as to be hardly legible,
'Beddoes writes in cipher to say that H. has told all. Sweet Lord, have
mercy on our souls!'

* * * * *

"That was the narrative which I read that night to young Trevor, and I
think, Watson, that under the circumstances it was a dramati