"I'm going down to the saloon below," I said. "This set of cabins is isolated, except for the doors at each end to the deck and the door that gives on the staircase to the saloon. Can I depend on you to hold out for five minutes? A shout will bring me up at a moment's notice."
"Yes," she said breathlessly.
I opened the second door that admitted to the staircase and glanced down. No one was visible, and no sound was audible. I turned, nodded reassuringly to the Princess, and descended. The saloon was empty, and there were no signs of any struggle. I passed along the passage towards the officers' quarters, but everything was in order; and finally retraced my way towards the kitchens, which abutted on the engine-room, but were separated from it by a thick partition of steel and wood. As I went, the yacht rolled and sent me against a closed door with a heavy bump. From within issued a sound, subdued but unmistakable as that of a human voice. I reflected that the mutineers would not be here, for it was evident that the door was locked, and no mutineer would secure himself in a cabin in the midst of his triumph. I rapped loudly on the door and called out:
"It's Phillimore. Who is in here?"
After a pause I heard the bolt go back and the door opened a little, disclosing the face of Lane.
"You, doctor?" he said. "Thank the Lord we're not all done yet." He flung the door wide, and I could see now that his companion was the head steward.
"Where's the Prince?" I asked anxiously.
"I don't know," he said, heaving a big sigh. "Thank the Lord there's some one else alive. I was forced down the companion and fell. Lost my weapon, too, or I'd 'a' showed more fight. Great Scott, I rolled all the way down, not before I'd done for one or two, I tell you."
"Well, you're wanted upstairs now," said I, "both of you. We've got the ladies on our hands, and we've got to find out where the Prince is. Day is dead."
Lane whistled. "Poor beggar!" he observed. "But Jackson must stay here. This is our magazine, my boy—where the grub is. If we've got to stand a siege we've got to seize the grub-chest. The storage chamber's along here."
The advice seemed excellent. "Yes," I answered, "that is true. Well, let Jackson wait here and lie low. He won't be discovered here."
"I dare say the cook's somewhere hidden about here, sir," observed Jackson.
"All the better. Find him if you can. And remember that, if we pull through, this means a big business for you, Jackson, and cook, too."
"Yes, sir," he assented mildly.
"Now, then, Lane," I went on, and the purser followed me into the saloon. We mounted the staircase, and I took the chance of closing the doors at the head that gave access to the deck. Then I rapped on the door that gave on the Prince's corridor. It was opened by the Princess eagerly.
"We are two more, Miss Morland," I said cheerfully, "and here is one of them."
"But my brother!" she cried out.
"I've not discovered his whereabouts yet," I said evasively.
"Do you think that he's–" She did not finish.
"Not a bit of it," I said, as decidedly as I could, for, to tell the truth, I had my grave doubts. "I have unearthed Mr. Lane and the steward. Why shouldn't I unearth Mr. Morland, too?"
Yet, if the others were alive, why was the yacht so quiet?
She sighed, and then looked over at the couch on which Pye sat huddled. "That man's no use," she said contemptuously. "He's been doing nothing but drink brandy."
Lane crossed over to him. "The beggar's drunk," said he in disdain.
"Then you must hold one door and Miss Morland the other," said I.
"But you–" She paused.
"I am going on another expedition. You must let me out and in. Two knocks will warn you."
So saying, I slipped the bolt and got out on deck. From the appearance of the sky I judged that it was only half an hour since I had found myself in the corridor. It was light enough to make out things fairly well, and now I could discern on the bridge the portly form of Holgate struck with this light. The figure of a man was visible a little in front of me by the chart-house. I heard Holgate's voice raised wheezily in orders, and the replies of the men came back to me inarticulately. As I crouched under the shelter of the cabins on the lee side I became aware of a faint but continuous line just over the bulwarks, and then the explanation of the mysterious silence on the yacht dawned on me. It was the coast line, from which we could not be more than a couple of miles away, and in the confusion of the fight, no doubt, the Sea Queen had lost her course and been driven inshore. It had, therefore, become imperative for Holgate to devote his attention and the activities of his men to the danger that threatened, more particularly as the heavy wind had threshed itself into a gale abeam.
Now at this juncture I must confess that I was entirely at a loss. I could not move a foot across the deck without being discovered, since it was merely the fact that I was in the lee of the cabins and in the deeper shadows of the dawn that enabled me to skulk where I was. Yet I was reluctant to go back without having carried the search a stage further. It was obvious from the calm which reigned among the mutineers that the Prince and his following were either dead or prisoners. Which had been their fate? The shadow of the man in front of me, scarcely a dozen paces away, turned and stopped and seemed to put his ear to the woodwork. It must be (I reflected) the chart-house door by which he stood. What was he listening for? Was it possible that some of our men were shut up in the chart-house? I shuffled a step or two nearer and watched him. He was fully armed, for I could make out a weapon in his hand, and he had something by his side, probably a cutlass. It was probable that he was placed guard over the prisoners. I drew two steps closer still. Holgate's voice still painfully dominated the wind and water, and I ventured yet a pace nearer. Did he turn now the man must see me, for I was in the gray light of the dawn, a deeper shadow than the wooden walls by which I lurked. My hands twitched, and I almost seemed to have sprung before I did spring. Then I knew I was on his back and had a leg twisted about his legs. He fell heavily, and I thrust a hand across his mouth. He struggled hard, writhing upon the deck under the weight of my body like a snake, and a choking sputter issued from his throat. Hastily I dragged a handkerchief from my pocket and pushed it into his mouth. The struggling increased. I glanced up and found that we had fallen under the door of the chart-house; also in that same glance I observed that the key was in it. No doubt it had been turned on the outside. I reached up a hand, but missed the key by a few inches. The endeavour had loosened my hold of my prisoner, and I was flung against the door with a thud; but I hurled myself upon him again just in time to prevent him from withdrawing the gag. In the struggle which ensued I managed to push him a little closer under the door, and then, with a desperate effort, stretched out and turned the key. I was fumbling for the handle when the man once again evicted me from the possession of his body, and I fell in a heap, jamming the door, which opened outwards. But on that I was aware that my back was being jarred and scored, and the next instant I was tumbled over at the foot of the mutineer, who had got on his legs at last. The door was thrust open with a noise, and men issued from it, stepping over my body.
"It is I—Phillimore," I gasped. "Run for the cabins."
Some one helped me to my feet, and I saw the mutineer drop with a sword point through him; and then we ran, I between two of the others, one of whom I was conscious was Ellison. A shout sailed down to us from the bridge, and there was the noise of a revolver shot, but luckily it missed us, and we gained the companion-way in safety, locked and barred the door, and knocked on the entrance to the corridor. Lane opened it.
"His Royal Highness, by gum!" he cried excitedly, and for the first time I was able to recognise my companions. The Prince was there, safe and scathless, and with him Barraclough, Ellison, and a fourth man, who was Grant.