Within two minutes Burgoyne was sleeping the sleep of sheer exhaustion, nor did he awake until the slanting rays of the early morning sun shone in his face, as the boat heeled to the now beam wind.

"You're a bright one, Mostyn," he exclaimed, as he stretched his cramped limbs. "Do you call this two hours?"

"I didn't like turning you out," replied the Wireless Officer. "After all, I've had quite a soft time. Only had to trim the sheet once, and she carries just the right amount of weather helm."

Balancing himself on the after thwart Alwyn scanned the horizon. All around sky and sea met in an unbroken line. Neither land nor vessel of any description was in sight. Satisfied on that score the Third Officer took stock of the boat. Underneath the tent Hilda Vivian was sleeping soundly. Her regular breathing was sufficient evidence to prove that.

Curled up athwartships, with his head pillowed on one of the canvas water-tanks—for which there had been no need in their original r?le—was Jasper Minalto, snoring like a young bull. He, too, had scarcely stirred for the last four hours.

"Let him stop," said Burgoyne. "I'll take on now. You might get out some grub before you turn in, and there are some tin mugs in the after locker."

"I brought along some lime-juice," announced Mostyn. "Holmes told me I could have it, and it may come in jolly useful. Branscombe lowered a dozen coco-nuts over the cliff and stowed those on board, too; so we shall be able to have some sort of variety. What's the menu? Bully and biscuits?"

The two men ate their first meal on board with evident relish; then Mostyn turned in, leaving Burgoyne at the helm.

It was a glorious day. As the sun gathered strength its warm rays brought comfort to the helmsman. For the first time for nearly twenty hours his comparatively thin clothing was dry, and his cramped limbs regained their usual suppleness.

"Things might be a jolly sight worse," he soliloquized. "We're clear of the island and no sign of any craft in pursuit. The breeze is fair and steady, we've a reasonable amount of grub in the locker, and a staunch little craft for the trip. I wonder what the others are doing, and whether Strogoff and his bravos are cutting up rough?"

In about half an hour after Burgoyne had resumed the "stick" Minalto stirred himself, and sat up with a look of wonderment on his face, sniffing the morning air with deep appreciation.

"Eh, sir!" he exclaimed. "I've just had a wonderful dream. We wur havin' fried bacon, an' taters an' all. I could smell 'en, real as anythin'-like, an' it doesn't haf smell good."

"'Fraid that's as far as you'll get just now," replied Alwyn with a laugh. "Come on! Biscuits and bully is our mark."

He glanced at the well-filled foresail and then to windward.

"May as well get the rest of the canvas set," he remarked. "The breeze is moderating a bit."

Lashing the helm the Third Officer assisted Minalto in the task of hoisting the standing lug. Before this was accomplished Hilda, disturbed by the noise, awoke and crawled from under the awning.

"Good morning!" she exclaimed.

"Mornin' to you, young Teddy," replied Jasper, touching his trailing forelock, while Alwyn removed his cap from his shock of tousled hair.

"Young Bill's shaved this morning," she continued with a disarming smile. "I'm sorry to have to say that Mr. Burgoyne has not."

"I thought I once heard you remark," rejoined Alwyn, "that you were rather partial to beards!"

"Yes, torpedo beards, tawny for preference," admitted the girl.

The Third Officer complacently stroked the stubbly growth of hair that completely hid his cheeks and chin.

"For the matter of that," he observed, "a pair of scissors will do the trick when we get back to civilization."

"But your beard is red, not tawny," countered Hilda laughingly. "But don't worry about that, Mr. Burgoyne. I think I prefer you as you were on board the Donibristle—clean-shaven. That is from an appearance point of view. Just now you look a bit of a ruffian, but you're splendid. I shall never be able to thank you sufficiently for all the danger you have gone through—and the others as well, of course—to get me away from the island."

"It's jolly good of you to say that, Miss Vivian," said Alwyn. "We've got you clear of the island, it's true, but we are by no means out of the wood yet. Now: ready for something to eat?"

Telling Minalto to take the tiller Alwyn prepared the girl's breakfast. In the absence of a knife or a tin-opener the bully-beef tin had to be battered open with a rowlock, since, as is almost invariably the case, the patent opener provided failed utterly in its predestined mission. The biscuits, too, had long lost their crispness, and the water, notwithstanding the addition of a small quantity of lime-juice, was decidedly "cloudy" owing to the continuous motion of the boat. In default of a plate the beef had to be spread out on a piece of canvas which Burgoyne had washed by trailing over the side; while a total deficiency of cutlery resulted in the application of nature's knives and forks.

Yet Hilda enjoyed the rough-and-ready repast. She was naturally a high-spirited girl, passionately fond of an open-air life, and the novelty of the situation appealed to her. Burgoyne thought she looked the picture of health, with her finely-modelled features, of rich bronze hue by reason of exposure to the sun and rain, her closely-bobbed hair, and her mirth-loving eyes. Even her present costume suited her, the canvas jumper and the battered straw hat setting off to perfection her slim figure and the naturally graceful poise of her head.

For the four or five hours all went well with the Argonauts, but about midday the breeze died utterly away and the boat drifted idly with her sails drooping listlessly from the yards. The heat was terrific. Almost overhead the sun blazed down mercilessly, while the reflected rays from the mirror-like ocean seemed almost as hot as the sunshine itself.

With the paint blistering and the woodwork too hot to touch comfortably the boat was like a small furnace. Even the water left in the lands and bilges quickly disappeared, throwing out a noxious-smelling vapour.

Leaving one man to keep watch, the rest of the crew sat under hastily-devised awnings over which salt water was frequently poured in the hope that the rapid evaporation would lower the temperature under the canvas. Sleep was an impossibility; speech became a matter of difficulty, for even freq............