She could not go on deck herself, she said; Fitzgibbon was up there, and would see her—­and she was supposed to be locked in her room.  But she would send Wong on deck with a message to Mister Lynch; she would have Lynch sing out for the captain’s presence on the poop.  When the captain responded to the hail, I was to accomplish my task.  I was to bring Newman to this room.  What happened then depended upon chance—­and Lynch.  Newman and I must get forward, some way, and quiet the men; Lynch would take care of Swope.  She had a fine faith in the second mate, had the lady.

I had never been in the lazaret, the task of breaking out stores having usually fallen to the stiffs.  But from foc’sle gossip I knew it was a big storeroom, comprising the whole ’tweendeck beneath the cabin space.  The Golden Bough, like most clippers of her day, sometimes carried emigrant passengers, and had need of a spacious lazaret.

The lady sketched the lay of the land for me.  The hatch to the lazaret was in the saloon floor, well aft, on the starboard side.  Wong was more familiar than any man with the lazaret’s interior, and he had decided the deck should be cut through from this room, rather than at any other point.  This, said the lady, was because farther aft, on this side of the ship, a strong room occupied the lazaret space (aye, the same strong room which so tickled the fancy of some of my shipmates!).  The Chinaman had planned with foresight; he had even disposed stores below to convenience and shield the man who played rescuer.  When I dropped through the hole, the lady told me, I would find myself in a narrow alleyway, walled with tiers of beef casks and other stores; if I followed this alleyway I would come to the lazaret hatch, near where Newman was secured.

She thought I should wait until I heard the captain leave the lazaret.  But to this I demurred.  The success of the scheme might well depend upon the leeway of a moment’s time.  The ship’s noises, always present in a ship’s hold, would cover any slight noise I might make.  Truth to tell, that sound of Newman in pain had thrown me into a fever of impatience to get to his side; and I suspect it rendered the lady less cautious, too.

“God bless you, Boy—­and, oh, be careful,” she whispered.

I drew back the blanket, and lowered my body into the opening.  I hung by my hands an instant, and felt her draw the blanket over my head as she covered the hole again.  Then I let go, and dropped.

CHAPTER XXI

I crouched behind a row of flour barrels, which stood on end handy to the hatch, and peered through the chinks.  The captain had hung his lantern on a beam overhead, and its rays limned like a stage-setting an open space some six feet square.  Aye, a stage-setting, and the scene a torture chamber.  I bit my lips to restrain a cry of horror and rage when I looked through the chinks between the barrels, and it was with difficulty I kept myself from rushing forth and falling upon the fiend who had contrived and was enjoying the scene.