A flash and a dull report served for my answer then; and as the bullet crashed through the woodwork, there was a yell, a dull sound as of a fall, and then in the momentary silence Mr Preddle said-- "Those were my orders; I was obliged." A ragged volley was fired then from below, and we heard the bullets striking the wood, and saw two or three splitting the thick wood at the top of the hatchway. But we stood back too much for either of them to touch us, as we listened, trying to distinguish the words said, as we pictured, no doubt pretty accurately, what was going on in the forecastle; for a dull groaning told only too plainly that Mr Preddle's shot had taken effect. What I pictured was the men lifting their bleeding companion forward to one of the bunks, while others were talking and raging furiously about the shot. I shuddered, and yet I felt excited, and that it was a necessity. And just then I made out Jarette's voice shouting at the men, and giving some order which only evoked a deep growl. "I don't like having to fire like that," said Mr Preddle just then; "and I feel now as if I ought to fetch the doctor.--Ah, Frewen," he cried, "I've just shot one of the men." For there were Mr Frewen, the mate, and Barney Blane, all panting and eager to help us. I told him what had happened, and Mr Brymer said quietly-- "On their own heads be it. This may act as a warning to them. But there must be no hesitation; our lives and that of Miss Denning depend upon swift action. At the first stroke of an axe, fire again." "I will," said Mr Preddle firmly; and by the light of the lantern I saw that the chambers of his revolver were exposed, and that he was thrusting in a fresh cartridge. "Ought we to send down Mr Frewen?" said Mr Denning just then. "Don't ask absurd questions, sir," replied Mr Brymer angrily. "Come, Frewen. Now, my lad." He turned away, and before following, Barney Blane got beside me, to say in my ear-- "Disappynted again, sir. I did think I was to have a go at Frenchy now." He hurried off; and the shrieking of the wind ceased for a few moments, during which we strained our ears to try and make out what went on below, when very faintly, but the word distinctly heard, came the cry-- "Help!" "There is some one forward there by the bowsprit!" I cried excitedly; and leaving my companions, I crept to the bows, and, holding on tightly, climbed up and looked over, seeing nothing but the foaming water churned up by the ship as she plunged on and on, looking as if she were moment by moment going to split upon what might have been one huge black rock right ahead. I changed my position, and got to the other side of the bowsprit to hold on and look over there, but still I could see nothing, and though I shouted again and again there was no reply.