filled and lit his pipe, remarking meanwhile to the unhearing Second, that the light breeze was dropping.
Abruptly, the Second Mate called his superior's attention, and in the same instant, so it seemed, the failing wind died entirely away, the sails settling down into runkies, with little rustles and flutters of sagging canvas.
"What's up?" asked the Mate, and raised his glasses.
"There's something queer going on over yonder," said the Second. "Look at the lights moving about, and Did you see that?"
The last portion of his remark came out swiftly, with a sharp accentuation of the last word.
"What?" asked the Mate, staring hard.
"They're shooting," replied the Second. "Look! There again!"
"Rubbish!" said the Mate, a mixture of unbelief and doubt in his voice.
With the falling of the wind, there had come a great silence upon the sea. And, abruptly, from far across the water, sounded the distant, dullish thud of a gun, followed almost instantly by several minute, but sharply defined, reports like the cracking of a whip out in the darkness.
"Jove!" cried the Mate, "I believe you're right." He paused and stared. "There!" he said. "I saw the flashes then. They're firing from the poop, I believe. . . . I must call the Old Man."
He turned and ran hastily down into the saloon, knocked on the door of the Captain's cabin, and entered. He turned up the lamp, and, shaking bis superior into wakefulness, told him of the thing he believed to be happening aboard the barque:—
"It's mutiny, Sir; they're shooting from the poop. We ought to do something" The Mate said many things, breathlessly; for he was a young man; but the Captain stopped him, with a quietly lifted hand.
"I'll be up with you in a minute, Mr. Johnson," he said, and the Mate took the hint, and ran up on deck.
Before the minute had passed, the Skipper was on the poop, and staring through his night-glasses at the barque and the derelict. Yet now, aboard of the barque, the lights had vanished, and there showed no more the flashes of discharging weapons—only there remained the dull, steady red glow of the port sidelight; and, behind it, the night-glasses showed the shadowy outline of the vessel.
The Captain put questions to the Mates, asking for further details.
"It all stopped while the Mate was calling you, Sir," explained the Second. "We could hear the shots quite plainly."
"They seemed to be using a gun as well as their revolvers," interjected the Mate, without ceasing to stare into the darkness.
For awhile the three of them continued to discuss the matter, whilst down on the maindeck the two watches clustered along the starboard rail, and a low hum of talk rose, fore and aft.
Presently, the Captain and the Mates came to a decision. If there had been a mutiny, it had been brought to its conclusion, whatever that conclusion
