"About the management of the ship? Yes, poor fellows, and both suffering too. You see that scoundrel has let the whole day pass by without letting me go and attend the captain. You are right, Dale, they must both be feeling horribly about the ship. Think you can sleep?" "Sleep? No; nor you. It is far too rough for that. Think this is a good seaworthy ship, Mr Frewen?" "I think so. I hope so," he replied. "The owners stand high for their character. I wish the crew were as good as the ship. Dale, do you think we might break out to-night? We could do it without being heard; I am sure that I could saw round the lock of the door." "But Bob Hampton and the others would not be ready for us, and we should not have their help," I protested. "But this seems such a chance, my lad, with all that noise, and I want to be clear in case of accidents." "Hist!" "What is it?" "Something tapped at the cabin-window." I ran to it, and began to unscrew the fastening, for it was closed tightly to keep out the spray, since more than once a great wave had struck against it with a heavy thud that evening, and we did not want a wet cabin to add to our other miseries. I swung open the round iron frame, and gazed at the furious sea, all covered with its white foam, but there was nothing visible for a time. Then all at once something swung by as the ship rose after careening over and literally rolling in the hollow between two great waves. It was momentary, and like a faint shadow, but directly after, with the swing as of some great pendulum, it passed by again. The next time I was ready for it, feeling as I did that it was some of Bob Hampton's work, and reaching out as far as I could get my arm, I gazed straight before me, trying vainly to make out what it was in the darkness. "See anything?" "No," I said; but the next instant something struck my hand, swept by, came back, and I had hold of it to draw into the cabin, cut the string again, and then hastily closed the window--just in time too, for a wave broke against it directly after with a heavy thud. CHAPTER TWENTY TWO. As soon as the roar and rush of water had passed, Mr Frewen whispered-- "Another pistol?" "Yes," I said, for I had been hurriedly tearing off the drenched canvas in which it had been wrapped so securely that though the woollen bag in which pistol and cartridges lay was quite damp, as far as I could tell they were none the worse for being dipped again and again into the sea. For there is a capital quality in canvas as a protector; as the material gets thoroughly soaked it swells and tightens, till it is a long way on toward being waterproof; and after carefully feeling the weapon, and examining it in every way we could in the darkness, Mr Frewen expressed his opinion that it was uninjured, and placed it in his breast to dry.