Then the reality, the stern, horrible reality, of all that was before me
came with terrible force; for as I scanned the rapidly drying deck, all
strewed and splotched with trampled wet powder, I saw one great patch
that did not seem to dry up at all, and the next moment I grasped what
it was, and shuddered, for it was blood.

And then I felt that in spite of the absurdity of the appearance of
Walters and some of the men, we poor creatures, shut up there in that
saloon-cabin, with ladies depending upon us for protection, were face to
face with death; for when weak, thoughtless men were once committed to
an enterprise and led away, there would be no bounds to the excesses
they might commit.

Strong thoughts, terrible thoughts these, but the weapons, the powder,
and the blood showed me that there was no exaggeration.

A cold shudder passed through me as I stood there watching, and ready to
report the next movement on the part of our enemies. My eyes felt a
little dim, too, as I looked round vainly in search of Jarette, who must
be, I was sure, planning some means of getting us all into his power.

The door was only opened widely enough for me to look along the deck
where the men were watching the door; and I was just thinking that if we
all made a bold dash at them, armed as we were with right upon our side,
there was no reason why we should not scatter them; and once scattered
and Jarette mastered, the rest would, I knew, be easy enough.

"And we shall have to do it," I thought. "I can't do much, but I could
and I would lick Walters."

My fingers itched to get at him as I thought all this, and the blood
flushed up into my temples.

"A mean, contemptible coward!" I muttered, as I gazed at him. "Yes,
you may stand there as cocky as you like with your pistols, but they
don't frighten me. You daren't fire them, and you showed what a coward
you were when you were told to lay the powder here and--Hallo!"

The current of my thoughts was changed on the instant as something came
down very softly from above--something soft and grey-looking hanging
from a string. There was not a sound, but I grasped directly what it
meant.

Some one had gone softly up on to the poop-deck, and was standing just
over my head, letting down this something by a string, so that it should
lie gently close up to the door.

I could not look right up and see, but I knew as well as could be that
it was Jarette there leaning over the rail; an