arried a doctor--the
boatswain, carpenter, sailmaker, cook, two stewards, twelve men--of whom
eight were A.B.'s and four only O.S.--and last, but not least--in our
own estimation--two apprentices, Tom Bainbridge, in his fifth year of
apprenticeship, being one, while I, Mark Temple, just turned seventeen
years of age, and in the third year of my apprenticeship, was the other.
There was not much love lost between Bainbridge and myself, by the way,
for he was of a sullen, sulky temper, and had tried hard to bully me
when I first made his acquaintance in the old _Boadicea_ before joining
the _Zenobia_. But our mutual ill feeling did not greatly matter, for
he was in the port watch and I in the starboard, so we very rarely met
except when it was a case of "all hands"; consequently we had not very
much opportunity to quarrel. And in addition to the above we carried
twenty cuddy passengers, of whom six were men, while the remainder
consisted of nine ladies and five children. I am afraid the above
details are not very interesting, but it is necessary to give them in
order that the reader may fully understand what is to follow.

As I have already mentioned, this story may be said to have had its
beginning about two bells in the middle watch--or about one o'clock in
the morning--on a certain specified date; for until then there had been
nothing out of the ordinary to distinguish the voyage from any other.
But some five minutes after I had struck two bells, in accordance with
the chief mate's instructions, and the lookout on the topgallant
forecastle had responded with the usual cry of "All's well!" one of the
forecastle hands came slouching along aft, and, ascending the poop
ladder with a certain suggestion of haste and trepidation, approached
the mate.

"Will ye mind steppin' for'ard a minute, sir?" he enquired. "There's a
strong smell o' burnin' down in the fo'c'sle, and--"

"A strong smell of burning?" interrupted Mr Bligh. "The dickens there
is! Yes, of course I'll go. Temple," turning to me, "just keep a
lookout for a minute or two while I'm gone, will ye?"

"Ay, ay, sir," I replied; and the mate dashed down the poop ladder and
went scurrying away forward, regardless of the drenching showers of
spray that came flying in over the weather cathead with every mad plunge
of the overdriven ship.

For the next five minutes I paced anxiously to and fro along the weather
side of the poop, with my ears wide open for any su