side of the horrible place. The sergeant was
haranguing them, while another man, whom she supposed to be the petty
officer, pulled them to their feet one by one. A good deal of his
labour was wasted, for the _Scarrowmania_ was rolling viciously, and as
soon as he had got a few upright half of them collapsed again. Wyllard
glanced towards them compassionately.

"I believe most of them have had nothing to eat since they came on
board, though it isn't the company's fault," he said. "There's food
enough served out, but before we picked the breeze up the men laid
hands upon it first and half of it was wasted in the scramble. Then it
seems they pitched these youngsters out of their berths."

"Don't they belong to anybody?" Agatha asked. "Is there no one to look
after them?"

Wyllard smiled drily. "I believe one of your charitable institutions
is sending them out, and there seems to be a clergyman, who has a
curate and a lay assistant to help him, in charge. The assistant won't
be available while this rolling lasts, and the other two very naturally
prefer the saloon. In a way, that's comprehensible."

He left her, and proceeded to help the man who was dragging the urchins
to their feet.

"Get up!" said the sergeant. "Get up, and fall in. Dress from the
left, and number off, the ones who can stand."

It appeared that the lads had been drilled, for they scrambled into a
line that bent and wavered each time the _Scarrowmania's_ bows went
down. After that, every other lad stepped forward at the word; the
order was, "Left turn! March, and fall in on deck," and when they
feebly clambered up the ladder Wyllard, who turned to Agatha, pointed
to a door in a bulkhead of rough white wood.

"It should have been locked, but I fancy you can get in that way, and
up through another hatch," he said. "The single women, and women with
children are in yonder, and if you want to be useful there's a field
for you. Get as many as possible up on deck."

Agatha left him, and her face was rather white when at last she came up
into the open air, with about a dozen forlorn, draggled women trailing
helplessly after her. The lads were now sitting down in a double line
on deck, each with a tin plate and a steaming pannikin in front of him.
There were, she fancied, at least a hundred of them, and a man with a
bronzed face and the stamp of command upon him was giving them the
order of the voyage. He was the one she had already notice