r confounded `ghost-
ship' together! Such utter humbug and nonsense, and thinking you take
people in with such yarns in these days!"

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

FULL SPEED AHEAD.

I was so indignant at what the spiteful little brute said that I
incontinently turned on my heel and left him without another word, going
forwards towards the bridge to give the skipper Stoddart's message.

Here, the sight of Colonel Vereker's grand figure--one that would be
remarkable anywhere, towering above the rail and almost herculean in its
massive proportions, coupled with the sad look in his noble face, and
which reminded me somehow or other of one of the pictures of the old
Cavaliers of the Stuart days, made me resent the more the baseless
imputation of his being an imposter.

The idea of such a thing being possible could only have occurred to an
ignoble mind like that of Spokeshave; for one single glance at the
distinguished-looking gentleman's speaking countenance, with its finely-
chiselled features and lofty open brow, would have satisfied any
unprejudiced person that his was a nature incompatible with deceit and
meanness, even in the most remote degree.

"Well, young Haldane!" exclaimed old Mr Stokes, whom I found with
Captain Applegarth and the colonel when I reached the wheel-house.

"What do those smart chaps of mine down below say, hey, my boy?"

His face beamed as he spoke and he looked as if he would have liked to
have rubbed his hands together in his old way when he felt particularly
jolly, but unfortunately his crippled arm, which was still in a sling,
prevented that!

"Oh, that's all right, sir," I replied in an equally cheery tone, the
old chief's genial address making me forget at once my anger at
Spokeshave's contemptible nonsense. "Mr Stoddart directed me to tell
the cap'en that he may go on ahead as usual, as he likes, for everything
has been made taut and secure below and there need be no fear of another
mishap. He says he intends driving the engines as they were never
driven before, and he has put every fireman and oiler in the stoke-hold
on the job."

"Bravo!" cried the skipper, sounding the gong again and yelling down the
voice-tube that led below like one possessed. "Fire up, below there,
and let her rip!"

"Dear, dear," panted Mr Stokes, whose fears for his engines, which he
regarded with the affection which a young mother might bestow on her
first baby, began to overcome his interest in the chase