"Ay, trust 'em, messmate," growled Dumlow, "but it's no use to grumble. Ups and downs in life we see. We're down now, and it's their turn." "Now," said Barney. "Hush!" I whispered. We all listened, and plainly heard a step overhead, as if a man was walking along the deck. It passed by, sounding fainter, and died away, but at the end of a minute we heard it again, and knew that whoever it might be, he was returning and would pass by us again. This happened, and I feared that he would notice the cuts in the tarpaulin, but he went on, the footsteps grew fainter, and I fancied that I heard them continue on the ladder as the man ascended to the poop-deck. "Could you tell who that was, Bob?" I said. "Ay, sir. No mistaking that pair o' legs. They don't go like an Englishman's would. That was old Jarette." I set my teeth hard, and almost writhed at the feeling of impotence which troubled me. To have been so near success, and then for that scoundrel, who had promised to work faithfully for us if he were forgiven, to have played the spy, and contrived after hearing our plot to change the contents of the tins. For it was all clear enough now in my memory, and I could recall every word the man had said to the cook. "We ought to have kept some one on the watch while we made our plans," I said to myself, but felt how absurd it was to murmur now that the mischief was done. The heat seemed a little less intense now, but it was so terrible that the throbbing in my head commenced again, and I was ready to order an attempt to be made to force up one side of the hatch, when there was a whisper. "What say, Bob?" I replied. "Didn't speak, sir," was the reply. "You then, Dumlow?" "No; not me, sir." "Well then, Barney, it was you," I said tetchily. "What do you want?" "I never spoke, sir," said Barney, in an ill-used tone. "What do they want to say it was me for?" "Cheer up!" came now quite plainly. "Eh? Who spoke?" "Friend," was whispered again. "Yes, what? Who is it?" "Pst!" I waited for whoever it was to speak again, but there was not another sound, and I turned to where I believed Bob to be lying. "Who could that be?" I said. "Well, sir, when a man blows his words down through a slit in a tarpaulin--" "You think it came down through the hole you cut?" "Yes, sir, sure on it; but as I was a-saying, when a man blows his words down like that he might just as well be whistlin' a hornpipe for all you can tell who it is. But if I was put upon my oath afore a judge I should swear as it were Plum Duff." "What do you mean?" I said. "Well, sir, old Byled Salt Pork." "The cook?" "That's him, sir." "But he whispered `Friend,'" I panted excitedly. "Yes, and that's what bothered me. If it had been any one else it would ha' been all right, but one can't quite believe in a cook being your friend at any time. After what has taken place just lately I should say he was the worsest enemy we ever had."