rail, and over on to the deck, whose planks it
began to belabour heavily, while we gazed excitedly at the beautiful
creature glistening in its splendid coat of many colours, which flashed
gold, silver, orange, scarlet, and metallic blue and green at every
quivering blow.

"What is it?" said Mr Denning eagerly, and I remember thinking how
animated and well he looked that day.

"Well," said the captain, "many years as I've sailed these seas, I
hardly know what to say. It's something like a dolphin, but it's more
like a bonito, and it isn't unlike an albicore. What should you say,
Brymer?"

"Quite fresh to me," said the mate. "Certainly one of the mackerel
family, by its head and the great crescent moon tail."

"Yes, and the short fins on front, top, and bottom. Never mind, it
looks a good one for the table, and I congratulate you, Mr Denning,
upon your luck. Going to try again?"

"No," said the invalid, peevishly, as he glanced quickly from his sister
to the doctor and back. "Thank you for helping me, Alison Dale. Lena,
your arm; I'll go below."

No one spoke till he had disappeared, and then the captain shook his
head.

"Poor chap," he said, with a sigh. "Here, Dale, Walters, carry the fish
to the cook; Hampton--Dumlow, swabs and a bucket."

"Keep tight hold," I cried to my companion, who was holding the head of
the fish by a loop of yarn passed through its gills, while I carried it
by getting a good grip of the thin tail.

"Do you want to carry it yourself?"

"Not at all. Too heavy."

Just then the fish began to quiver as if it were all steel spring, and
waggled its tail so sharply that it flung off my grasp, and once more I
offended Walters, for the fish fell across his feet.

"There!" he cried, "you can't deny that. You did it on purpose. A
filthy, slimy thing!"

As he stood there with both his hands clenched I thought he was going to
strike me; but even if he had it would have made no difference, I should
have been obliged to laugh, and laugh I did, till as I was wiping my
eyes I found that Jarette the French sailor was close up and looking at
me keenly.

"Here, Barney Blane," I said, "take hold."

The man grinned and came and helped me bear it away to the cook, after
which I put away the tackle, hanging it to dry before giving it back to
its owner.

CHAPTER NINE.

All at once, just as our life at sea was as calm and peaceful as could
be, Captain Berriman grew quite queer in his