e was silent again.

"I--Poole."

"Yes, father," said the lad softly.

"Are you there?"

"Yes, father."

The boys exchanged glances.

"I--I think--Hah!"

The skipper was fast asleep.

The two lads remained silent for a few moments, watching the sleeper,
and then Poole looked full in his companion's eyes and slowly took out
the revolver which he had thrust into his breast, before raising the
hammer and bringing the cartridge-extractor to bear so that one after
another the charges were thrust out, each to fall with a soft tap upon
the cabin-table, after which the chambers were carefully wiped out, and
the weapon put back into a holster close to the head of the berth, the
cartridges being dropped into the little pouch attached to the belt.

When all was done, steadily watched by Fitz the while, Poole raised his
eyes to his companion once again.

"Shall we do as you and father did just now?" he asked.

"Yes," said Fitz slowly and sadly, "if you will."

"Will?--Of course!"

The two lads shook hands.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

LAND HO!

Two days passed, during which time Fitz kept to his cabin, and towards
evening Poole came down, to find the middy seated with his back to the
door gazing through the cabin-window at what seemed to be a beautiful
blue cloud low-down on the horizon.

"Hullo!" cried Poole cheerily. "You can see it, then?"

"Yes," said Fitz, without looking round. "That's land, I suppose."

"Yes, that's one of the islands; but look here, what's the good of going
on like this?"

"If I choose to sit at my prison-window and look out for the islands, I
suppose I have a right to do so," said Fitz coldly.

"I say, take care. Recollect you have not quite got your strength up
again. Mind you don't fall."

"May I inquire what you mean?" said Fitz haughtily.

"Of course. I mean, take care you don't tumble off the stilts now you
have got on to them again."

"Bah!" ejaculated the boy.

"Well, what's the good of going on like that, sulking and pretending you
are a prisoner?"

"There's no pretence in that," said Fitz bitterly.

"Yes, there is," retorted Poole quickly. "It's all shammon and gam--I
mean, gammon and sham. You are no more a prisoner than I am. Why, even
father says you seem to be riding the high horse. I suppose you do feel
a bit awkward about coming on deck amongst the men, after going through
that--I mean, after what happened."

"Oh, say it!" cried Fitz angrily. "After