carelessly beside the companionway puffing meditatively upon

his pipe as though he had been but watching an indifferent

cricket match.

As the last officer went down he thought it was time that

he returned to his wife lest some members of the crew find

her alone below.

Though outwardly calm and indifferent, Clayton was inwardly

apprehensive and wrought up, for he feared for his wife's

safety at the hands of these ignorant, half-brutes into

whose hands fate had so remorselessly thrown them.

As he turned to descend the ladder he was surprised to see

his wife standing on the steps almost at his side.

"How long have you been here, Alice?"

"Since the beginning," she replied. "How awful, John. Oh,

how awful! What can we hope for at the hands of such as those?"

"Breakfast, I hope," he answered, smiling bravely in an

attempt to allay her fears.

"At least," he added, "I'm going to ask them. Come with

me, Alice. We must not let them think we expect any but

courteous treatment."

The men had by this time surrounded the dead and wounded

officers, and without either partiality or compassion

proceeded to throw both living and dead over the sides of

the vessel. With equal heartlessness they disposed of their

own dead and dying.

Presently one of the crew spied the approaching Claytons,

and with a cry of: "Here's two more for the fishes," rushed

toward them with uplifted ax.

But Black Michael was even quicker, so that the fellow

went down with a bullet in his back before he had taken a

half dozen steps.

With a loud roar, Black Michael attracted the attention of

the others, and, pointing to Lord and Lady Greystoke, cried: