It was lucky for me that it was dark, for though the noise I made brought them round me, I had time first to slit the canvas and slip out, panting, and not knowing which way to turn. I knew they dare not fire, for fear of hitting one another, and starting off, I ran them once right round the deck, keeping as much as I could under the bulwarks. The second time round I came right against one fellow, and sent him down head over heels; but I knew it couldn't last, and that in spite of doubling they must have me. I could hear panting and voices all round, and on leaving off running, and creeping cautiously about, more than once I felt some one pass close by me--regularly felt them, they were so close. Once I thought of getting into the chains, but I knew if I did they would see me as soon as it was daybreak. Then I thought I might just as well jump overboard, and make an end of it, as be pitched over; directly after, I fancied I could crawl under the spare sail that covered the long-boat, and lie there. Last of all, I made for the poop, meaning to try and climb down to one of the cabin windows, but I stopped half-way, on account of the binnacle-light, and crept back towards the fore-part, to see if I could get down to the fore-cabin passengers. But it was of no use, and the only wonder was that I did not run right into some one's arms; but the chances, perhaps, were not, after all, so very much against me, and I kept clear till they grew savage, and I could hear that they were cutting about at me with either knives or cutlasses; and in spite of my trouble then, I could not help wondering how they had come by their arms, for, of course, I could not know then how Van had stolen them from the cabin while the skipper was asleep. "I may as well knock under," I said to myself, and I was about to give up, meaning first to give 'em one more round, when I stumbled. Twice over I had felt my bare feet, slip upon the deck, in what seemed blood, and had shuddered as I thought of how I should leave my footmarks all over the clean white boards; but this time I stumbled over what seemed to be a body, and should have fallen, if I had not gathered up my strength for a jump, and thrown myself forward, when, as if in one and the same moment, there was a crash as of breaking glass, a heavy fall, and then a foot was upon my throat, and a pistol held to my head. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ STORY TWO, CHAPTER SEVEN. I was that shaken and confused by my fall, that for a moment I could not speak, and when I could say a few words, I did not know who I was speaking to, expecting that it was Van, till a voice I seemed to know whispered: "If you attempt to move, I fire." "I ain't going to move, Mr Ward," I says at last: "it's been too hard work to get here; but if you'll pynt your pistol up at the skylight, it'll be better, or some one else will be tumbling down after me. Only wish Sam Brown would."