Arrived on deck it did not take the boys long to realize what had happened. The yacht was aground, but whether on a reef of rocks or on the shore was not at first plain. Suddenly a blinding flash of lightning showed them the true situation. The Valkyrie lay with her bow ashore amidst what appeared to be a confused tangle of roots and low growing shrubs. More than this it was impossible to make out. One thing alone was clear—only too clear,—the voyage of the yacht was over. She lay canted far over to one side, making it a difficult matter to stand steadily on her sloping deck.

The crew were running about as if possessed. Any slight amount of discipline that Medway and Hemming might have exercised over them had vanished in this emergency. Some of them were actually trying to get one of the two remaining boats over the side regardless of the mountainous sea that was running. The play of the lightning was incessant. The whole sky appeared to be ablaze with livid fire. In the blue glare the figures on deck were outlined as plainly as if on the screen of a moving picture theatre. But it was grim, real-life drama that was being enacted.

The boys saw Medway and Hemming, with revolvers in their hands, go slipping and sliding across the inclined deck and rush into the midst of the group of seamen about the boat.

“Drop those falls, you fools!” they heard Hemming shout above the tempest. “It’s death to launch a boat in this!”

But the panic-stricken sailors appeared not to notice the two mates. They struggled with the boat and, finally, actually succeeded in getting it overboard. Then they piled into it helter skelter. Some of them fell overboard in their eagerness, but by the glare of the lightning the boys could see that those in the boat dragged them on board again before they were sent to the bottom.

A huge wave came bearing down on them and lifted the boat high in the air. The boys uttered a shout of alarm. It looked inevitable that the boat would be smashed to bits against the yacht’s side. But those on board her managed to stave the frail craft off, and in a minute another big sea swept the little boat with her load of human beings off into the darkness beyond their ken.

Medway and Hemming stood leaning out over the bulwarks peering into the night. They were shouting something, but the boys could not hear what.

The furious wind caught their words and hurled them broadcast before they had properly left their lips.

“Is she breaking up?”

Tom shouted the words into Jack’s ear as the two boys, clinging to the shrouds, stood on the inclined deck.

“I don’t think so,” was Jack’s reply, yelled with his hands to his mouth, funnel-wise, “she’s grounded so far on shore that she’s safe for the time being, anyway.”

“We’d better go below and see how the others are getting on,” came from Tom the next minute.

In their excitement and fright the boys had utterly forgotten for the time being their companions. The thought of the plight that they might be in now recurred to them with redoubled force. Slipping along the precipitous deck they made their way to the cabin companionway. As they went they noticed the marks of the relentless axes of the crew. Except the main cabin house amidship, the yacht had been practically stripped of every bit of available timber. She looked, as indeed she was, a sorry derelict.

It is now necessary to turn back a little and discover how the prisoners in the adjoining cabin had been faring. It will be recalled that when Jack and Tom had been summarily taken from the cabin they shared with Dick Donovan, the next stateroom was occupied by Mr. Chadwick, Professor Von Dinkelspeil and Captain Sprowl.

The two weeks that had been spent by the boys in the engine-room had passed like eternity to those locked in the cabins. Of course, they had been able to communicate by means of the “Morse” tappings. But Dick’s knowledge of telegraphy was so limited that he had not been able to understand much of what was communicated to him. Nor had he been able, except after a long interval, to explain to the others that Jack and Tom had been taken from the cabin for some unknown reason connected with the machinery of the yacht.

Food had been served to the prisoners regularly, but from the sailors who brought it they had received no word of the fate of the two boys, nor could even the promise of bribes elicit a word from the men. Under the strain of their captivity and their uncertainty concerning Jack and Tom, Mr. Chadwick’s health had suffered seriously. Dick, too, had suffered from a kind of tropical fever, and lay in a semi-conscious condition in his cabin for days. This was the more unfortunate as Professor Dinkelspeil had given, through Mr. Chadwick’s telegraphy, full instructions to the young reporter concerning the movable partition.

It had been agreed by the prisoners that Dick should remove the partition and get into the next cabin. There was a chance that the door would be open, in which case Dick might make his way into the main cabin and unlock their door in which they knew the key was kept. What they would do after this was not arranged; but they all felt that if they could get out they might find some way of bettering their situation.

Dick’s illness interfered with these plans; but the night that the storm broke he had forced himself to rise from his bunk, and despite his weakness he determined to try to remove the partition separating him from the next room. It was in panels, as he knew, and with the aid of his knife, which, luckily, the men in possession of the yacht had not thought worth taking from him, he succeeded in removing the screws that held one of the panels in place.

He lifted the panel out and found himself looking into the next cabin.

It was brilliantly lighted and, to his astonishment, the walls were lined with racks in which were rifles and pistols. It was, in fact, Medway’s cabin, to which he had removed the yacht’s armory so as to have it out of the way of any of the crew who might take it into their heads to form a second mutiny.

While the yacht rolled and plunged in the hurricane, Dick climbed through the hole made by removing the panel. Once in the cabin he stood stock still, undetermined what to do. After a minute’s reflection he decided to see if the door would open. But he had hardly taken a step with this intention in view when the door was flung violently open and Hemming stood before him.

For one instant both stood perfectly still. Dick’s knees shook under him. Even in his usual health he would have been no match for the burly Hemming, but as it was he felt incapable of putting up even the most feeble resistance.

“You young imp of Satan, what are you doing in here?” bellowed Hemming, with a snarl like an angry tiger.

He raised his fist and sprang forward. Dick, more by instinct than anything else, seized one of the pistols hanging on the wall. Hemming paused as the boy leveled the weapon at him. But the next instant he sprang forward as if to fell the boy to the ground. Dick jumped back to avoid a heavy blow and his finger involuntarily pressed the trigger.

A click resulted, but there was no explosion.

The weapon was unloaded. With a shout of triumph Hemming rushed him, but just as his hands were on Dick’s throat there came a stunning crash that hurled them both to the floor.

When Dick, who had rolled under a bunk with the force of the upheaval, regained his feet, he was alone in the cabin. Dazed and half stunned, he stood still trying to collect his thoughts. Suddenly there came a mighty pounding on the wall of the cabin he had just left. This was accompanied by muffled shouts.

“Help!” was what Dick made out above the uproar about him.

He rushed to the door which Hemming had left open behind him. The lights in the main cabin were still on and showed him that the lower part of the place was awash with water. He had hardly time to realize this discovery when the lights went out and the place was plunged in total darkness.