There had been no attempt to remove Cyril's clothes, and, by the aid
of Lord Oliphant and of a sailor he called to his aid, he made his
way below, and was led through the line of wounded, until a doctor,
turning round, said,--

"This is the man who wishes to see you, Sir Cyril."

Although a line of lanterns hung from the beams, so nearly blind was
he that Cyril could scarce distinguish the man's features.

"I have sent for you," the latter said faintly, "to tell you that if
it hadn't been for your jumping down on to that fire-ship you would
not have lived through this day's fight. I saw that you recognised
me, and knew that, as soon as we went back, you would hand us over to
the constables. So I made up my mind that I would run you through in
the _melee_ if we got hand to hand with the Dutchmen, or would put a
musket-ball into you while the firing was going on. But when I saw
you standing there with the flames round you, giving your life, as it
seemed, to save the ship, I felt that, even if I must be hung for it,
I could not bring myself to hurt so brave a lad; so there is an end
of that business. Robert Ashford was killed by a gun that was knocked
from its carriage, so you have got rid of us both. I thought I should
like to tell you before I went that the brave action you did saved
your life, and that, bad as I am, I had yet heart enough to feel that
I would rather take hanging than kill you."

The last words had been spoken in a scarcely audible whisper. The man
closed his eyes; and the doctor, laying his hand on Cyril's arm,
said,--