en down once more as far as the forecastle, we all began to
partake of the savoury Australian dish the cook had prepared, with an
abundance of rich gravy, and the whole surrounded by a thick wall of
beautifully cooked white rice.

Though our meals had been rough and unsatisfactory for many hours, every
one began his dinner with manifest distaste, for it was impossible to
avoid thinking of what had been done; but after a portion had been taken
into the cabin by Mr Denning for his sister, and a little of the gravy
and rice to the captain by the doctor's orders, first one made a little
pretence of eating by nibbling at his biscuit, then another tasted the
savoury-looking dish and commented upon it, and a minute later, as a
jovial chorus came rolling out of the forecastle-hatch, Mr Frewen began
to eat.

"Come, Dale," he said, "have some dinner, and forget all that. It was
your duty, my lad."

"Yes; I will try," I said; and making an effort, I mastered my
disinclination and swallowed a mouthful.

"Capital, isn't it?" said Mr Frewen, smiling.

"Yes, it is good," I replied; and I went on, feeling surprised at my
returning appetite.

The result was that Mr Brymer and Mr Denning fell to, and we were
all--perhaps in a forced manner, to encourage each other--loud in our
praises of the dish, of which we ate heartily.

In fact, when I had nearly finished my plateful, a thought struck me,
and after a little hesitation I turned to Mr Brymer.

"Well?" he said. "What is it, Dale?"

"I was thinking, sir," I said.

"What of--the gang singing? They're passing the bottle round pretty
freely."

"No, sir," I said. "I was thinking how tantalising it must be to hear
this dinner going on, and smell it, and not get some."

"Oh, we'll call the men to finish it when we've done. Poor fellows!
they work hard for us, and we will not stand on ceremony now."

"I meant Walters, sir," I said.

"Humph! The treacherous young hound! Why, you don't mean you want to
take him some?"

"Yes, I do, sir," I said quickly. "I don't like him, or defend him, but
I'd give him a plate of this."

Mr Brymer looked round the table and frowned.

"Well," he said, "take him some, but mind he don't get out."

I rose eagerly. Mr Preddle smiled all over his round, plump face, and
well filled a plate, which I bore to the cabin in which Walters was
prisoned, and unfastening it, bore it in.

He was leaning against the ship's side, gazing out of the