I crept in despair towards the hatchway. I was unable to interpret from the sounds and curses that issued from the forecastle what had happened, and feared that I should see Mr. Bludsoe trampled upon by those he had tried to rescue from their own folly. Yet, as I raised my head to peer down, I heard his voice ring out: "There's no need for anyone else to pay the price Mulligan has paid. Down with your weapons!" Dirks and pistols clattered to the deck. Some of the points of the knives stuck into the timber. I looked at these shivering blades and thanked Providence that they had found lodging there instead of in the mate's breast. Out they came, sullen but subdued. Mr. Bludsoe drove them aft with his pistol points. "Thank you, lad," he said, as he passed me, "I owe my life to you!" I peered down into the forecastle. Under the smoky lamp lay Mulligan--a huge, motionless mass. Blood flowed from his temple. The wind had died; the sun was hidden in haze; the sky darkened; the barometer fell. "We'll be in the midst of a tempest soon," Samuel Childs whispered to me, "if the rebels had held out they might have had the ship at their mercy." "Call all hands to shorten sail," the skipper said calmly to Mr. Bludsoe. The ship was made snug; the sails were furled; the spars, water casks, and boats were lashed; the hatches were battened down. Seeing that the men were thoroughly cowed, the skipper passed the word to the cook to serve them with breakfast. From the galley came the sound of pots and pans. The peace meal was ready. CHAPTER VII BETRAYED It grew warmer as we approached Gibraltar. Flying fish arose from the water and shot over the surface like silver arrows. Porpoises frolicked around us. Flocks of sea-gulls followed us as we passed the southern coast of Europe. Through the Azores we sailed until we came in sight of the red cliffs of St. Vincent, on the Portugal coast. Then we entered the Straits of Gibraltar and caught our first sight of the mountainous African coast. I had better note here that three continents form the shores of the Mediterranean Sea--Europe, Asia and Africa. The entrance to this sea from the Atlantic is guarded by the Pillars of Hercules, formed by Gibraltar on the European shore and "the Mount of God" on the African side. These pillars, it interested me to discover, were thought by the ancients to have been left standing by Hercules as monuments to his might when he tore asunder the continents. It will be remembered that along the sea these monuments of nature guarded, civilization had been cradled. Art, architecture, law, poetry, drama, and religion had come into being on these coasts. The treasure tomb that now nightly filled my dreams had doubtless been laid in these early days.