Even whilst he spoke the rest had pulled up a little square hatch cover with an iron ring in it; it fitted a large manhole a few paces abaft the companion-ladder; this hatch conducted to a part of the after-hold called the lazarette, a sort of store-room in which the cabin provisions and wines with other commodities were stowed. Captain Burke jumped from his seat; his wife fell upon him shrieking, and with her arms about his neck forced him to sit, beseeching him to have patience, to let the men have their way, to attempt no violence or they would kill him. He trembled with rage and weakness and grief, but he understood his powerlessness--which was merciful, for there was an angry stubbornness in the hurry and motions of the men which was as good as advising their captain, with a curse and a threat wrapped up in the hint, not to meddle with them, not to offer to hinder them if he valued his life. Very promptly the lot emerged from the lazarette, bearing cases and sacks, hams, cheeses, and so forth. They no doubt guessed they'd come to want plenty of provisions should they miss the ship they were after. They ran headlong up the ladder, none heeding us, but not above two minutes afterwards the boatswain's burly figure showed in the companion-way, and he bawled down: 'Capt'n Burke, we're all ready, and there isn't a second to lose. Ain't you going to join us along with the ladies?' He received no reply. He repeated the question, roaring it out in a bull-like bellowing, and then came a step or two down the ladder to stretch his neck that he might see us. I cried out: 'Are we to be left alone?' for I cannot express the horror that chilled me when I thought of the sailors leaving us to save themselves, insomuch that they might be on board another ship sailing towards the sun ere the Southern Cross was trembling in the south that night, whilst the three of us who stayed--two of them women--might go on rolling about in a wrecked and crusted hull till she grew sodden and sank, or split against an iceberg. 'Come you along with us, miss, if the captain and his wife won't leave the vessel!' cried the boatswain. 'No!' shrieked Mrs. Burke. 'Would you expose a delicate young lady in these seas in an open boat? Fools are you yourselves to go. You'll be heard of no more.' The boatswain without another word withdrew his great developed bulk from the hatch, but he was instantly replaced by another figure, and Mr. Owen's voice, shrill with excitement and hurry, cried down: 'Mrs. Burke, Miss Otway, aren't you coming? They'll be putting off without you if you pause.' 'He does not ask my husband to join them,' screamed Mrs. Burke, 'the wretch! does he think I would leave my husband?' Mr. Owen came swiftly down into the cabin and talked like a man in delirium.