k for the use
of the Faithful, who were thirsty. He was mad, and ready for desperate
steps. He hastened to the mess-room of Howe, and entered just as that
worthy was taking a draught from the bottle he had filled at the tanks
the evening before.

"What's that?" demanded he.

"Water," replied Howe, good-naturedly.

"Give us a drink--will you? I'm almost choked," asked Raymond, glad to
see that there was still an alternative.

"No, I thank you," answered Howe, putting the stopper back into the
bottle. "We don't do the heavy jobs, and then provide for those who are
too cowardly to help us."

"We are in the same boat with you; and it isn't fair to let our fellows
suffer while you have water."

"You wouldn't go in with us. We have only a bottle apiece," pleaded
Howe.

Raymond appealed to others in the room, but all of them were of one
mind. The salt beef had created a tremendous thirst among those who had
eaten it, and all who had water made large draughts upon the supply.
The bottles had contained pickles, olives, ketchup, and other similar
articles, so that the water was not very palatable. In the course of
the forenoon, Raymond and his party stealthily attempted to obtain
possession of these bottles, but the runaways were too vigilant for
them; and before dinner the thirsty ones were exceedingly
uncomfortable, to say the least. They tried to conceal their condition
from the Faithful as much as possible, but they were all very nervous
and disquieted.

At one o'clock, after the regular dinner of roast beef and rice pudding
had been served to the Faithful, the tables were again prepared for the
rebels; but the bill of fare was corned beef and hard bread--not a drop
of water. Peaks and the head steward paced the unsteady floor, as they
had done at breakfast time. Raymond, whose tongue and lips were parched
with thirst, became desperate again, and attempted to force his way
into the kitchen. He was seized by the boatswain, and the more he
struggled, the more he was shaken up. He refused to behave himself, and
Peaks thrust him into the brig.

CHAPTER IX.

THE LAST OF THE MUTINEERS.

The gale continued to blow ugly and gusty during the day, until eight
bells in the afternoon. The fog hung heavy over the ocean, and the bell
was rung every five minutes, in accordance with the English Admiralty
instructions. The ship had been standing close-hauled to the
north-north-west since noon, when she had tacked, at t