"I cannot fight, but I can load for you," said a voice from behind; and looking round, as many of us did, there stood Mr Bell, pale as a ghost, but quite calm, and leaning upon his sister's arm; while, if I could have seen anything in a woman to admire, I should have said she looked beautiful just then--being quite pale and calm--like the sea of a still morning before the sun rises. "There's something to fight for there," says Sam in my ear. "Why didn't they all stop at home?" I says. "Just look what a mess they've got themselves in through being aboard ship, which is the last place as they should be in." What Mr Ward had said seemed to have warmed the captain up; for sooner than see another take his place, he set to, and began to hunt out what arms he could find, after placing Mr Ward to guard the broken skylight, which he did with a revolver and a thin skewer of a thing out of a walking-stick, and it put me in mind of what I have read about some one being put in the fore-front of the battle; but the young man never said a word; and then, after a bit of a rummage, the captain came back to serve out what arms he could get told of, but that wasn't many, for the enemy had pretty well emptied the locker where they were kept. A precious poor lot there was left for us to defend ourselves and a whole tribe of women and children; my share being an empty pistol, which didn't seem to be so much use as a fellow's fist, that being a handy sort of weapon in a tussle. Everything was done quiet as could be, so as not to let them on deck know what we were doing; but as soon as the arming part was finished, and I looked round, I could see that the game was up, for two more pistols, two cutlashes, and a couple of guns--sporting-guns, that two of the passengers had used to shoot sea-birds with--was all we could muster. As is always the case when it's wanted, neither of these passengers had any more powder; and when Mr Ward's little pistol-flask had been passed round once, there was not another charge left; but the captain had gone to get more, and we were expecting him back, piling up hammocks and bedding the while, to keep the mutineers off, and to have something to fight from behind. I was doing all I could, after shoving a good charge of powder and a whole handful of small-shot into my pistol, when Mr Ward beckons to me and whispers: "Go and see why he don't come back; it's time to be on the alert, for they are moving on deck." I stepped lightly off--my feet being bare, making no noise on the planks--when coming upon the captain quickly, I saw him just putting down a water-can, and he turned round to me, looking pale as a sheet, as he says: "It's no use, my lad; resistance would be vain, for they've contrived to wet what powder we had. Look at it."