Bertie offered no remonstrance. The seat was not a comfortable one to lie upon. It was one of those which are found in steamers, formed of rails, with a space between each rail. Possibly when they reached the open sea it would be less comfortable still. But Bertie lay quite quiet, and never said a word. It was not exactly what his heroes would have done. They would have faced the villain, and dared him to do his worst; and when he had done his worst, and sent six shots inside them, with a single bound they would have grasped him by the throat, and with a laugh of triumph have flung him head foremost into the gurgling sea. But Bertie did not do that. So long as they remained in the river one or two of the passengers still continued to move about the decks. The night was so glorious that they probably thought it a pity to confine themselves in the stifling cabins. But by degrees, one after the other, they disappeared, until finally the decks were left in possession of the captain and Bertie, and those whose duty it was to keep watch at night. Although they had passed Hurst Castle and reached the open sea, the weather was so calm that hardly any difference was perceptible in the motion of the vessel. Bertie still lay on the seat, looking at the stars. He had no inclination to sleep, and even had he had such inclination, not improbably the neighbourhood of "Uncle Tom" and his revolver would have banished slumber from his eyes. He was not a sentimental boy. Sentimental boys are oftener found in books than life. But even unsentimental boys are accessible to sentiment at times. He was not a religious boy. Simple candour compels the statement that the average boy is not religious. But that night, lying on the deck, looking up at that wondrous canopy of stars, conscious of what had brought him there, aware of his danger, ignorant of the fate which was in store for him, knowing that for all he could tell just ahead of him lay instant death, he would have been more or less than boy if his thoughts had not strayed to unwonted themes. Through God's beautiful world, across His wondrous sea--the companion of a thief. Bertie's thoughts travelled homewards. A sudden flood of memories swept over him. All at once the captain paused in front of him. "Shall I throw you overboard?" There was a glitter in his eyes. A faint smile played about his lips. Bertie was not inclined to smile. His tongue clave to the roof of his mouth. "I have been asking myself the question, Why should I not? I shall have to dispose of you in one way or other in the end; why not by drowning now? One plunge and all is over."