The period of trance-like inaction pa.s.sed. Olive stole stealthily towards the three combatants with the desperate intention of throwing herself upon the captain, as he manoeuvred for an opening. She saw the iron bar descend and Peter's automatic slither along the deck. The Arabs, too intent upon settling with the Englishman, paid no attention to the little weapon.

Swiftly the girl grasped the automatic. Even in her haste she remembered to release the safety-catch and to see that there was a cartridge in the breech.

Levelling the pistol she pressed the trigger. The Arab captain threw up his arms and staggered upon the almost exhausted Peter, bearing him to the deck together with the fellow whom he had used as a human shield.

Still at a loss as to the outcome of the fight, Olive waited, finger on trigger, watching the writhing forms almost at her feet. Presently the Arab sailor extricated himself and fumbled for the knife in his sash.

Again the pistol cracked, and the fellow collapsed in a limp heap across the body of the captain of the dhow.

Checking her almost irresistible inclination to ascertain whether Peter was dead or alive, the girl made her way aft, remembering that there were five Arabs and that only four had been accounted for.

A loud, very masculine-like voice, uttering a string of curses that would have done credit to a Thames bargee, greeted Olive's ears. As she stooped to clear the low p.o.o.p she was just in time to see Mrs.

Shallop deliver a clean and beautifully timed punch on the point of the Arab's jaw. The luckless fellow, lifted completely off his feet, crashed heavily against the bulkhead and slithered limply upon the deck.

This much Olive saw by the aid of a horn lantern hanging from the deck-beam. Then, as Mrs. Shallop turned, the girl was also aware that there was a knife sticking into the woman's left shoulder.

Olive offered her a.s.sistance. Mrs. Shallop, seemingly aware of the knife for the first time, waved her back.

"Nothing to make a song about," she protested in a gruff voice. "When I want your help I'll ask for it--not before."

And with this ungracious refusal Mrs. Shallop went back into her cabin and shut the door; leaving Olive, feeling considerably bewildered now that the reaction was setting in, standing close to the unconscious Arab.

It was some moments before she pulled herself together sufficiently to go on deck. By this time the dhow had run up into the wind and was gathering sternway with her lateen foresail aback. Olive hardly heeded the fact. Her first care was to ascertain whether any of the three were still living.

Peter looked a ghastly sight, a generous portion of his hair torn out by the roots and blood trickling down his forehead.

A hasty examination showed that he was still alive and apparently without serious injury. Olive washed the stains from his face and rested his head on an improvised pillow. Then she went to the a.s.sistance of Preston and Mahmed.

With difficulty she removed the collapsed tent, for in the melee the Acting Chief had rolled over upon the folds of the canvas. He too looked a pretty object, for the old wounds on his head had reopened, while in addition he had been stabbed. Olive deftly dressed the injuries and turned to Mahmed.

She did not know what to make of the Indian boy. He was so chipped about that she was unaware whether he was alive or dead.

Olive was still engaged in doing her best to patch Mahmed up when Mrs.

Shallop appeared upon the scene. Somehow she had contrived to put a dressing over her wound, although it must have been a difficult task to tie the knot that held the bandage in position.

"Bit of a mess, ain't it?" she remarked. "We'd best clean up a bit.

How about heaving those blacks overboard?"

"Are they all dead?" asked the girl.

"Not a bit of it," was the unconcerned reply. "But they soon will be, so overboard with them."

"No," declared Olive firmly. "It's not right--it's murder."

"It would have been murder for us if they hadn't knuckled under,"

rejoined Mrs. Shallop. "When they come to their senses there'll be more trouble, you mark my words."

Olive glanced in the direction of the Arab captain. Already he was showing signs of returning consciousness.

"What's that hatch under the p.o.o.p, close to your cabin?" she asked.

"How on earth should I know?" retorted Mrs. Shallop. "It's no odds to me what it is."

The girl went aft, lifted the hatch, and lowered the lantern into the cavernous depths. The place was an after-hold, its for'ard end terminating in a strong transverse bulkhead, while the curved timbers and raking sternpost comprised the remaining walls.

"We'll lower the Arabs down that hatch," declared Olive firmly, when she rejoined her companion. "They'll be safe enough in there."

"No; overboard with them," persisted Mrs. Shallop.

"You'll be tried for murder on the high seas if you do," continued Olive.

The threat caused the woman's blood-thirsty schemes to evaporate.

"All right, then," she conceded grudgingly.

With very little a.s.sistance Mrs. Shallop dragged the unresisting forms of the five Arabs aft, after searching them in a very methodical fashion for concealed arms. This done, she pa.s.sed a rope round each Arab in turn and lowered him into the hold; while at Olive's suggestion a stone jar filled with water was placed in their prison.

"Guess they'll be scared stiff when they come to," was Mrs. Shallop's grim comment, as she closed and secured the hatch. "Where's any food?

That job's made me feel quite peckish."

She disappeared into her cabin, while Olive, left to her own resources, began her watch and ward by the side of the still unconscious Wireless Officer.

CHAPTER x.x.xV

The End of the Voyage

Three days later the dhow was bowling along up the Mozambique Channel with the Madagascar coast showing broad on the starboard beam.

Peter was once more in charge of things. He had made a quick recovery from his hurts, although he still experienced a difficulty in swallowing.

Preston too was making favourable progress. His latest wound was a clean cut. Up to the present there had been no complications, and his amateur nurses had good reason to think that none would be forthcoming.

With Mahmed things were different. Twenty-four hours elapsed before he regained consciousness. He was suffering from at least half a dozen deep knife wounds and several others of a lesser degree of danger. In addition to a serious loss of blood, he was in a high fever.

Peter was greatly concerned over the dangerous state of his trusty servant. He had thought of putting into the nearest port in Madagascar and landing Mahmed for medical treatment, but the boy besought Mostyn Sahib so fervently that he should not be left that Peter decided to carry on.

There was no longer any doubt about the dhow's position. On board, Mostyn had discovered, amongst other articles of navigation, a British-made s.e.xtant, and, as soon as the Acting Chief recovered sufficiently Preston had fixed the lat.i.tude. The absence of a chronometer mattered little, since the Madagascar coast was visible to starboard.

By the aid of Arab charts it was found that the dhow was now within six hundred miles of Pangawani, the nearest port in the Kilba Protectorate, and, indeed, the nearest territory under British rule. Provided the wind held, the dhow ought to reel off those six hundred miles in from five to six days.

Everything considered, Peter congratulated himself. In a stout, weatherly craft, although on very unconventional lines according to British standards, there was little cause for anxiety on the score of danger. There were ample provisions of sorts, and sufficient fresh water to enable the dhow to carry on without being under the necessity of putting into any port to revictual.

The Arab prisoners gave little trouble. Given food and water and medical stores of their own providing, they accepted the changed conditions with typical Moslem fatalism. Twice a day they were allowed on deck singly, ostentatiously covered by Mostyn with his automatic; and, without the slightest show of opposition, they returned to their place of captivity in the hold directly they were so ordered.

Amongst other articles discovered in the Arab captain's cabin was a leather bag, containing gold and silver coins of an approximate value of 120. This Peter placed in a large trunk, which, in default of lock and key, was secured by driving in several long nails. He told no one of his find, but resolved to hand over the money to the port authorities as soon as the dhow arrived at Pangawani.