The discovery of the cook made a great difference in the state of affairs. It was found that he had been forced by Jarette's threats to work for the mutineers, and if they had gained the upper hand he would no doubt have sided with them again; but now he seemed to return gladly to his regular duties, and he was as energetic as possible in preparing breakfast, waiting on Miss Denning and her brother, and when he was not cooking, making himself generally useful, as the advertisements say, about the cabins, especially that of the captain, to whom, unasked, he began to act as nurse. That morning, by Mr Brymer's orders, he filled a number of bottles with fresh water, and got ready a quantity of biscuits, which he was told to bear to the mutineers. "But I dursen't, sir," he said. "That Jarette would swear I was a traitor as soon as he heard my voice, and shoot me same as he did poor Phipps." "What! the steward?" cried Mr Frewen. "Yes, sir, dead, on the night they rose." "You rose," said Mr Brymer. "No, sir, I didn't; I'm only a cook, and not a fighting man. One does lots of things when a pistol's held to your head as you wouldn't do other times." "Bring the biscuit and water," said Mr Frewen, "and I'll speak to the men. They will not use pistols when they know food is going to be given to them." The cook shook his head. "You don't know Jarette, sir," he said. "I'll go with you and help you," I cried, for I fully believed Mr Frewen's words, which proved quite correct, till we had passed down all that we had taken, the men eagerly thrusting up their hands and seizing bottle and biscuit. Then as the last bottle of water was handed through the opening Bob Hampton had left when he nailed the boards over, Jarette shouted-- "That isn't all, is it?" "Yes," I said, "that's all you'll get;" and fortunately I started away and fell back in my fright, for quick as lightning the scoundrel thrust out a pistol and fired at me, the flash being so close that I felt sure for the moment that I was hit. In fact I was stunned, but it was from the sharp rap which I gave the back of my head on the deck. "Hurt?" cried Mr Frewen, running to my help, as I sat up rubbing the back of my head. "Hurt? Yes, of course I am," I cried, angrily; but I laughed it off the next minute, for I was afraid that they would think it cowardly of me for shrinking away. "I'm afraid it will be some time before they get any more refreshments," said Mr Preddle, laughing; and now by Mr Brymer's orders a tarpaulin was drawn over the top of the hatch, but it had not been there a minute before a knife-blade was passed through it, and a good-sized piece cut out. Then a board was thrown on, but it was only tossed away, and shot after shot was fired, evidently, from the good aim taken, by some one who could see the people on deck.