"What's that hatch under the poop, close to your cabin?" she asked. "How on earth should I know?" retorted Mrs. Shallop. "It's no odds to me what it is." The girl went aft, lifted the hatch, and lowered the lantern into the cavernous depths. The place was an after-hold, its for'ard end terminating in a strong transverse bulkhead, while the curved timbers and raking sternpost comprised the remaining walls. "We'll lower the Arabs down that hatch," declared Olive firmly, when she rejoined her companion. "They'll be safe enough in there." "No; overboard with them," persisted Mrs. Shallop. "You'll be tried for murder on the high seas if you do," continued Olive. The threat caused the woman's blood-thirsty schemes to evaporate. "All right, then," she conceded grudgingly. With very little assistance Mrs. Shallop dragged the unresisting forms of the five Arabs aft, after searching them in a very methodical fashion for concealed arms. This done, she passed a rope round each Arab in turn and lowered him into the hold; while at Olive's suggestion a stone jar filled with water was placed in their prison. "Guess they'll be scared stiff when they come to," was Mrs. Shallop's grim comment, as she closed and secured the hatch. "Where's any food? That job's made me feel quite peckish." She disappeared into her cabin, while Olive, left to her own resources, began her watch and ward by the side of the still unconscious Wireless Officer. CHAPTER XXXV The End of the Voyage Three days later the dhow was bowling along up the Mozambique Channel with the Madagascar coast showing broad on the starboard beam. Peter was once more in charge of things. He had made a quick recovery from his hurts, although he still experienced a difficulty in swallowing. Preston too was making favourable progress. His latest wound was a clean cut. Up to the present there had been no complications, and his amateur nurses had good reason to think that none would be forthcoming. With Mahmed things were different. Twenty-four hours elapsed before he regained consciousness. He was suffering from at least half a dozen deep knife wounds and several others of a lesser degree of danger. In addition to a serious loss of blood, he was in a high fever. Peter was greatly concerned over the dangerous state of his trusty servant. He had thought of putting into the nearest port in Madagascar and landing Mahmed for medical treatment, but the boy besought Mostyn Sahib so fervently that he should not be left that Peter decided to carry on. There was no longer any doubt about the dhow's position. On board, Mostyn had discovered, amongst other articles of navigation, a British-made sextant, and, as soon as the Acting Chief recovered sufficiently Preston had fixed the latitude. The absence of a chronometer mattered little, since the Madagascar coast was visible to starboard.