murderer, should
live to claim his freedom, and work out his vengeance; or, rendered
powerful by the terrible experience of the prison-sheds, should seize
both, in defiance of gaol or gaoler.

With his head swimming, and his brain on fire, he eagerly listened for
more. It seemed as if the fever which burnt in his veins had consumed
the grosser part of his sense, and given him increased power of hearing.
He was conscious that he was ill. His bones ached, his hands burned, his
head throbbed, but he could hear distinctly, and, he thought, reason on
what he heard profoundly.

"But we can't stir without the girl," Gabbett said. "She's got to stall
off the sentry and give us the orfice."

The Crow's sallow features lighted up with a cunning smile.

"Dear old caper merchant! Hear him talk!" said he, "as if he had the
wisdom of Solomon in all his glory? Look here!"

And he produced a dirty scrap of paper, over which his companions
eagerly bent their heads.

"Where did yer get that?"

"Yesterday afternoon Sarah was standing on the poop throwing bits o'
toke to the gulls, and I saw her a-looking at me very hard. At last she
came down as near the barricade as she dared, and throwed crumbs and
such like up in the air over the side. By and by a pretty big lump,
doughed up round, fell close to my foot, and, watching a favourable
opportunity, I pouched it. Inside was this bit o' rag-bag."

"Ah!" said Mr. Gabbett, "that's more like. Read it out, Jemmy."

The writing, though feminine in character, was bold and distinct. Sarah
had evidently been mindful of the education of her friends, and had
desired to give them as little trouble as possible.

"All is right. Watch me when I come up to-morrow evening at three bells.
If I drop my handkerchief, get to work at the time agreed on. The sentry
will be safe."

Rufus Dawes, though his eyelids would scarcely keep open, and a terrible
lassitude almost paralysed his limbs, eagerly drank in the whispered
sentence. There was a conspiracy to seize the ship. Sarah Purfoy was
in league with the convicts--was herself the wife or mistress of one of
them. She had come on board armed with a plot for his release, and this
plot was about to be put in execution. He had heard of the atrocities
perpetrated by successful mutineers. Story after story of such nature
had often made the prison resound with horrible mirth. He knew the
characters of the three ruffians who, separated from him by but two
i