Burgoyne's solitary meditations were interrupted by the appearance of the purser and Barnes the steward, the latter carrying a tin pannikin of lime juice.

"That's better, Mr. Burgoyne," exclaimed Holmes, seeing that the patient had recovered consciousness. "My word, that was some fight by all accounts. You didn't half sock the blighter."

Alwyn drank deeply before replying:

"S'pose it was," he admitted. "Goodness only knows why I did take the fellow on, though. How long shall I have to stop here, do you think?"

"Matter of a couple of days," replied the purser. "Pity you didn't settle that chap Strogoff. He didn't attend afternoon parade, thank goodness, but he was fooling around all the blessed morning, finding fault with things."

Burgoyne raised himself on one elbow. The movement sent a thrill of pain all over his body.

"He didn't see Miss Vivian, I hope?" he asked anxiously.

"Young Bill? No. Young Bill was kept in the background, so to speak. Hello! Here come the others. Hadn't any idea it was knocking-off time."

Branscombe grinned sympathetically when he saw his chum.

"You low-down bruiser!" he exclaimed. "Did they teach you that in the navy?"

"Partly," admitted Alwyn. "I'm afraid I departed somewhat from the recognized canons of the ring towards the end. Had to, or I mightn't have been here now. Well, any news?"

Phil divested himself of his soiled patrol coat, and revealed the fact that he had encompassed his waist with an uncut length of about ten fathoms of inch-and-a-half manila rope.

"A slight contribution to the general fund, eh, what, Withers?"

The Second Engineer produced his share of the day's plunder; one hack-saw blade and four pieces of files each about three inches in length.

"I had Satan's own job to get them," he explained. "The hack-saw blade I managed by a sort of three-card trick, and old Li Whong never twigged it. I spend most of the time in the workshop breaking off the tips of eighteen-inch files and rounding off the jagged edges. Li issued twenty-four out to the men, and twenty-four were returned; but he didn't notice that, instead of eight eighteen-inch and ten fourteen-inch, he received four eighteens and fourteen fourteens. How's that, umpire?"

"Excellent," conceded Burgoyne.

"'Spose you haven't formed a satisfactory programme?" inquired Branscombe. "Hardly to be expected from a battered old prize-fighter like you."

"I have," replied Alwyn, "subject to alterations. In the first place, any idea of surprising the guard must be scrapped. Although there are more prisoners than guards when the Malfilio is away, there's too much alertness on the part of the pirates to warrant success. We'd be bowled over like rabbits, especially if they caught us out in the open with those machine-guns. What I propose doing is to select a small crew—unfortunately I can't take it on, as I'm senior man here—cut out one of the boats, provision her, and make a dash for the Marshall Islands."

"That's all very fine," admitted Phil, after Alwyn had explained his movements earlier in the day "Collaring the boat seems feasible; but how about provisioning her? We can't lug fifteen days' grub down through that tunnel and stow it away. And there's fresh water to be taken into account. We've no barricoes. Even if we had, how could we get, say, thirty gallons, or nearly three hundredweight of water to the boat?"

"That is a proposition," admitted Burgoyne thoughtfully. "Ten gallons ought to be sufficient, though. We must devise some way of getting hold of a barrel or two. Now as regards provisioning the boat. Has anyone a pencil?"

Withers supplied the required article.

"Phew!" ejaculated Burgoyne. "I feel like one of those 'Every Picture tells a Story' advertisements we used to see in the papers at home. You fellows carry on with your grub while I draw a rough chart of the island. I don't think it will be very much out."

In spite of several interruptions, and at the cost of considerable physical discomfort, Burgoyne completed the plan.

"Now," he continued, "there's a free passage right round the island inside the reef. Here's our compound; there's where the fence ends on the western side. Right underneath is a cave. If that won't suit, probably the others will. What's to prevent us going down by means of a rope and exploring? If everything's O.K. we can lower our reserve stock of provisions, and hide the stuff in the cave until it's wanted. Then, when opportunity serves, the crew told off to cut out the lifeboat will run her round one dark night, provision, and be more than hull down before dawn. If they fall in with a ship, so much the better. If not, they can make the Marshall Islands, and in less than a month there ought to be half a dozen cruisers off the island."

"Sounds all right," admitted Branscombe. "But how about a course?"

"I've a compass," replied Alwyn. "It's only a pocket one, and I don't know what the variation and deviation are. But steer due south and one can't go wrong. Whoever goes in charge of the boat takes the compass."

"Who will?" asked Withers.

"Branscombe," replied the Third Officer. "At least, he's down for the job. I can't go, unfortunately, but Phil is the only other officer available who has had experience in boat-sailing and navigation."

"Thanks, old son!" exclaimed Phil.

"You haven't gone yet, dear old thing," rejoined Bur............