carry, with a view to a more or less prolonged stay on the Chatham
Islands. Then they shut the door and noiselessly crept forward,
intending to wake Frycollin and take him with them.

The darkness was intense. The clouds were racing up from the
southwest, and the aeronef was tugging at her anchor and thus
throwing the cable more and more out of the vertical. There would be
no difficulty in slipping down it.

The colleagues made their way along the deck, stopping in the shadow
of the deckhouses to listen if there was any sound. The silence was
unbroken. No light shone from the portholes. The aeronef was not only
silent; she was asleep.

Uncle Prudent was close to Frycollin's cabin when Phil Evans stopped
him. "The look-out!" he said.

A man was crouching near the deck-house. He was only half asleep. All
flight would be impossible if he were to give the alarm. Close by
were a few ropes, and pieces of rag and waste used in the work at the
screw.

An instant afterwards the man was gagged and blindfolded and lashed
to the rail unable to utter a sound or move an inch. This was done
almost without a whisper.

Uncle Prudent and Phil Evans listened. Ali was silent within the
cabins. Every one on board was asleep. They reached Frycollin's
cabin. Tapage was snoring away in a style worthy of his name, and
that promised well.