"Your spirit will do more for you than I can, sir," was the reply. "I am sorry to say, though, that Captain Berriman is completely prostrated. He must have received a crushing blow from behind." "Then you will fight?" said Mr Denning, eagerly. "Of course," said the mate quickly. "Now, gentlemen, please, the first thing is to pile up all the chests and boxes we have at command in the companion-way, so as to keep out the ruffians. They will get at the drink, and then stop at nothing. I'm afraid I cannot lift, but I can fire a pistol or a gun." "And I cannot lift," said Mr Denning, with his eyes flashing, "but I can fire with this and take good aim. I brought it to shoot birds on the voyage. It will be gaol-birds now!" Just then there was a stir and movement on deck, and the men gathered in that saloon made a rush for the door with such fierce determination that my heart gave a leap, and I felt that I was about to see blood shed, as I had often read of it in books. But this was no romance. There were quick whispers, and as it rapidly grew lighter I saw Mr Denning stand right in the centre with the mate and Mr Frewen, all armed with guns ready to fire upon any one who appeared; but the alarm passed off, and Mr Denning being left on guard, the others all set to work carrying chests and portmanteaus from the different cabins, so many being available that they were used as so many bricks, and carefully built up from floor to ceiling, but with openings left in through which the defenders of the saloon could fire when the attack was made. I worked eagerly with all the rest till the big entry was completely filled up, Mr Frewen taking the lead, and lifting and packing in the chests, till the solid wall was formed--one so well bonded together, as a bricklayer would call it, that it seemed to me that it would require a battering-ram to force a way through. As I walked away, hurrying eagerly first into one cabin and then another, in search of trunks and portmanteaus that would fit into the various openings, I suddenly found myself face to face with Miss Denning, whose pallid countenance lit-up on seeing me, and she held out her hand to cling to mine. "Oh, Mr Dale," she whispered half hysterically, "is there much danger?" "Oh no, I hope not," I said, speaking in an encouraging way; but she shook her head. "Don't--don't speak to me like that," she cried. "I'm not a child. Be frank with me, and tell me as if I were your sister. There is danger, is there not?" "Well, I'm afraid there'll be a fight," I said; "but we have plenty of firearms, and we've got right on our side, and I hope we shall give the scoundrels such a lesson that they will come down on their knees." "I'm afraid not," she said. "But tell me, why is it? Is it what they call a mutiny? I thought all such things were over now."