risen and mounted to the deck together, and were still in the first burst of their wonder at the desolation which met their gaze, when the long-meditated attack on Wilder was made. “What means this awful change?” demanded Mrs Wyllys, with a lip that quivered, and a cheek which, notwithstanding the extraordinary power she possessed over her feelings, was blanched to the colour of death. The eye of Wilder was glowing, and his brow dark as those heavens from which they had just so happily escaped, as he answered, menacing his assailants with an arm,— “It means mutiny, Madam; rascally, cowardly mutiny!” “Could mutiny strip a vessel of her masts, and leave her a helpless log upon the sea?” “Hark ye, Madam!” roughly interrupted the mate ‘to you I will speak freely; for it is well known who you are, and that you came on board the ‘Caroline’ a paying passenger. This night have I seen the heavens and the ocean behave as I have never seen them behave before. Ships have been running afore the wind, light and buoyant as corks, with all their spars stepped and steady, when other ships have been shaved of every mast as close as the razor sweeps the chin. Cruisers have been fallen in with, sailing without living hands to work them; and, all together, no man here has ever before passed a middle watch like the one gone by.” “And what has this to do with the violence I have just witnessed? Is the vessel fated to endure every evil!—Can _you_ explain this, Mr Wilder?” “You cannot say, at least, you had no warning of danger,” returned Wilder, smiling bitterly.