Tredgold seized him by the arm and, whispering indistinctly in his ear,
hurried him below.

"Get your arms out of the cabin as quick as you can," he said, sharply.
"Then follow me up on deck."

Mr. Chalk, trembling violently, tried to speak, but in vain. A horrid
clanking noise sounded overhead, and with the desperation of terror he
turned into the new cabin and, collecting his weapons, began with frantic
haste to load them. Then he dropped his rifle and sprang forward with a
loud cry as he heard the door close smartly and the key turn in the lock.

He stood gazing stupidly at the door and listening to the noise overhead.
The clanking ceased, and was succeeded by a rush of heavy feet, above
which he heard Captain Brisket shouting hoarsely. He threw a despairing
glance around his prison, and then looked up at the skylight. It was not
big enough to crawl through, but he saw that by standing on the table he
could get his head out. No less clearly he saw how easy it would be for
a mutineer to hit it.

Huddled up in a corner of the cabin he tried to think. Tredgold and
Stobell were strangely silent, and even the voice of Brisket had ceased.
The suspense became unbearable. Then suddenly a faint creaking and
straining of timbers apprised him of the fact that the Fair Emily was
under way.

He sprang to his feet and beat heavily upon the door, but it was of stout
wood and opened inwards. Then a bright idea, the result of reading
sensational fiction, occurred to him, and raising his rifle to his
shoulder he aimed at the lock and pulled the trigger.