So, taken altogether, writing was an arduous undertaking. After several attempts, Bob declared himself satisfied with his effusion. It was as peculiar as the writer himself. Some of the letters were printed, and gave the missive a very strange appearance, especially when the printed letter came in the middle of a word. "He made me swear not to tell," the letter commenced, "or your hair would stand on end." Bob scratched his head as he read it. "That's good!" he murmured. "I ain't splitting." His spelling was as bad as his writing, but those little mistakes we have rectified, as it is with the subject matter, not the correctness of the orthography or chirography, that we have to deal. "But if I dare tell you, you'd put all the prisoners in irons before the night got dark, and there may be bullets underneath the tin. Your boy, Bob." When perfectly satisfied with the epistle, Bob began to wonder how he could give it to Tempest without the act being seen. After considerable head scratching, he put the paper on Tempest's plate, the dinner table being set. Then he stood outside the cabin to watch whether the letter reached its proper destination. CHAPTER XXXIII. THE MUTINY QUELLED. Lieutenant Tempest saw the paper as soon as he entered the cabin, and was very much inclined to resent the placing of dirty paper on his dinner plate. But when he saw Bob's signature, he became amused. He was about to throw the document away, when Bob shouted from the outside: "Read it, sir." "Ah! You there, Bob? What is it? Want more grog, or extra biscuits, or is it something you want for Mr. Scarron?" Bob happened to see Luiga nearby, and knew that the West Indian was listening. "Yes, cap'n," he answered, "the doctor sent me for some, and I didn't see you, so I wrote it down." Tempest glanced over the paper, and saw at once that Bob was acting very diplomatically. "Will you ask the doctor to see me about it? He had better come at once." Luiga heard Tempest's remark and felt easier. "Thought he had split. If he had I would have slit his throat for him before he was an hour older." Tempest was alone. "What does he mean?" he asked himself. "'He made me swear.' Who did? 'Make my hair stand on end,' 'put prisoners in irons before night got dark'--really, Bob, your composition is an enigma. 'Bullets may be under the tin.' It is a conundrum hard to read." The doctor entered at that moment. Bob had sense enough to see that he was suspected by Luiga, and so he must remove that suspicion and trust to Tempest to find an excuse for the English doctor. Luiga was close to the cabin when the doctor entered, and all his suspicions vanished when he heard Tempest say: "Ah, doctor! Bob has been trying to make me understand what you want for poor Scarron. A doctor's prescription is usually hard to read, but Bob's is worse." It so happened that the doctor had really commissioned Bob to ask Tempest for an extra allowance of grog for Scarron.