After the students finished their supper, those who had decided to rebel against the authorities of the ship retired to the mess-rooms, agreeably to the instructions of the leaders. There were forty-four of them, including the eighteen runaways who still remained in the ship as seamen, and who were the real mischief-makers, forming a class by themselves, hardening their hearts in sheer ugliness against the discipline of the ship. In their exploit with the Josephine, they had "bucked" against authority, and had suffered the consequences, which unfortunately had not produced a favorable impression upon them. They were disposed to do the same thing again.

The rest of the mutineers belonged to a different class. They were generally well-disposed boys, fond of fun and excitement, not exactly the "lambs" of the flock, but certainly not the black sheep. If some of them had assisted in creating the confusion during the drill, they had not done so with any malicious purpose, as the runaways had, but from a thoughtless love of sport and excitement. They would never have thought of such an expedient as rebellion if they had not been cunningly worked upon by the real mischief-makers. They were not strong-minded young men, who dare to do right under all circumstances. With good impulses in the main, their principle was not hardened into that solid element which constitutes a reliable conscience. They were easily led away, and believing they had a real grievance, they resorted to doubtful means for its redress.

Of this class Raymond had been the leading spirit. He would have resented the appellation of mutineer as an insult. All he expected and desired to obtain was an explanation; and he was confident that when two thirds of the crew mildly, and even respectfully, declined to do duty, the principal, either in person or by deputy, would come below to ascertain the nature of the difficulty. He had cautioned his party to be perfectly respectful to the officers, and especially to the principal and professors. If it was to be a mutiny in any sense of the word, it was to be a very gentlemanly one. Having reduced the intended rebellion to this mild form, he had no fear that the rough hand of Peaks would be laid upon them, or that the party would be driven by force from the mess-rooms.

"How do you suppose it will come out?" asked Hyde, one of Raymond's messmates, in a low tone, as a group of the rebels gathered in their room.

"It will come out all right," replied the leader of the mild mutineers, confidently.

"I'm not so sure of that," added Hyde, shaking his head. "Mr. Lowington is a great stickler for discipline; and he is not exactly the man to come below, and coax us to attend to our duty."

"I don't expect he will coax us to do it. But there are so many of us in the scrape that he can hardly do anything else."

"How many do you suppose there are?" inquired Hyde.

"I can't tell exactly, but I am satisfied that more than two thirds of the whole crew will stand out."

"I don't know about that."

"I know that every fellow in the ship is mad because the trip to the Rhine is given up; and I think that at least two thirds of them are mad enough to do something about it. I should not be surprised if not a single fellow answered the boatswain's call."

"I should; for I know half a dozen who have said they should; but they mean to let the principal know that all the fellows are dissatisfied with the idea of being cheated out of the run into Germany. I'm not sure that this wouldn't be the better way."

"O, it wouldn't amount to a row of pins! What does the principal care whether the fellows are satisfied or not? We must do something to prove that we are somebody," persisted Raymond.

"That's so," added Lindsley, earnestly. "I don't believe in all Howe's nonsense, but there is a good deal of truth in what he says. We are not common sailors, but the sons of wealthy men. We were sent to this ship because we could have a chance to see the world while we were getting an education; and it isn't just the thing to deprive us of the privileges we pay for. Of course we don't mean to make any row. If the principal don't choose to set us right, why, we must go to our duty, and make the best of it; but for one, I shall write to my father, and tell him just how the matter stands."

"That's the idea," responded Raymond. "I shall do the same thing, and I know my father will send for me immediately. My mother would be glad enough to have me go home."

"I'll tell you what it is, fellows," added Lindsley, warmly; "if about fifty of us will only hang together, we can have our own way. If we write home that we are dissatisfied, that the principal is rough on us, and won't let us see the country, we can blow up the Academy Ship higher than a kite."

"I think we have seen the country pretty well," suggested Wilde.

"Yes; but we are not to go into Germany," replied Raymond. "We are to go to sea, just because the new captain demands it."

"For my own part, I like the ship first rate, and should hate to have my father send for me," continued Wilde. "I don't believe there are a dozen fellows on board who wouldn't think it a hard case if they had to leave."

"Not if we are to be treated in this manner. If we are allowed to see the country, and have a good time, every fellow will be satisfied," replied Raymond. "But I think it will all come round right if we keep a stiff upper lip, and stand up for our rights. I like Lindsley's idea first rate. We can talk that up, and it will help us out, if nothing else will. We can easily get forty or fifty of the fellows to say they will ask their fathers to take them away from the ship if they don't have fair play. Then we can mildly suggest the idea to Mr. Lowington; and, I tell you, he can see that the loss of fifty of us would make an end of his big idea."

"I'm not ready to say I will ask my father to take me out of the ship," protested Wilde.

"I am," said Raymond.

"So am I," added Lindsley.

"And I," chimed in others.

"While we are waiting, suppose we circulate the idea."

At this moment Tremere and Willis, who were the other occupants of the mess-room, came in, and the proposition was stated to them.

"No!" exclaimed Tremere, very decidedly. "When the boatswain pipes, I shall go on deck, and do my duty as long as I have two legs to stand on, and two hands to work with."

"So shall I," added Willis. "I don't believe half the stories that have been told through the ship. In my opinion, if any of the fellows don't go down the Rhine this year, it will be because they are rebels or runaways. I shall take my station when the boatswain pipes, if I am the only fellow on board that does so."

"If you haven't spunk enough to stand up for your rights, you deserve to lose them," replied Raymond, disgusted with the answers of those high-toned students.

"My rights! Humph! I value them too highly to throw them away by any such stupid conduct as you suggest," answered Willis.

Lindsley, thinking that Tremere and Willis did not understand their plan, volunteered to explain that they did not intend to use any violent measures; that they meant to be entirely respectful to the officers and to the faculty.

"Disobedience is disobedience, whether you are respectful or disrespectful; whether you say 'no' squarely, or 'excuse me;' only the former is less cowardly than the latter," said Tremere, in reply. "As I understand the matter, you are getting up a row, asking fellows to write to their fathers to take them away from the ship."

"All hands, up anchor, ahoy!" shouted the boatswain, at the main hatch.

Raymond returned to the mess-room, while the two incorruptible fellows hastened to their stations on deck.

"Now we are in for it!" said Lindsley.

"Let us stick to our text," added Raymond, fearful that some of the party would back out as the decisive moment had come.

"Ay, ay! Stick to the text!" added Hyde.

"Hold on, and I will see how many fellows answer the call," continued Raymond, nervously, as he stationed himself at the door of the room, where he could see the seamen who went up the ladder.

"Count them," said Lindsley.

It was an exciting moment to the rebels, for however real they believed their grievances to be, probably not many of them were satisfied with the expediency or the justice of the measure they had adopted to redress them.

"Only twelve!" exclaimed Raymond, when the last of the faithful had ascended the ladder.

"That's bully!" said Hyde, rubbing his hands with satisfaction at the assumed success of the scheme.

"Are you sure that you counted right?" inquired Lindsley.

"I counted ten, and added Tremere and Willis to the number, for they had gone up before I began. I didn't expect even as many as that would go."

But the enthusiastic rebel had made a blunder. A portion of those who intended to obey orders, having no motive for remaining below, had gone on deck as soon as they finished their suppers. Sixteen of these, added to the twelve who went up from the steerage, made the twenty-eight who first answered the call.

"Only twelve!" repeated Hyde.

"If we have nearly the whole crowd, we can do something more than explain our position," said Lindsley.

"I'm not in favor of doing anything more than that," added Raymond, shaking his head.

"All hands, up anchor, ahoy!" shouted the boatswain, the second time, at the main hatch.

"It's all right," said Howe, appearing at the door; "not a fellow answers it."

"Only a dozen have gone on deck in all," added Raymond.

"Is that all?" asked the runaway.

"That's all; I counted them."

"Good! We shall make a big thing of it," answered Howe, as he left the room to look into others, in all of which it is safe to say that the strong-minded rebels were engaged in stiffening the backs of the weaker ones, for a large portion of them were in a very novel position.

"Some one will be down very soon to know what the matter is," said Hyde, fidgeting about his berth, where he had stretched himself to await the time.

"Who shall speak for us?" asked Raymond.

"You shall," replied Lindsley.

"Very well; I will do the best I can," answered Raymond, modestly. "I am to say, very respectfully, that the fellows are dissatisfied with the idea of going to sea, and giving up the trip to the Rhine."

"Yes; and we respectfully request that the principal will make good his promise to take us into Germany," added Hyde.

"Don't you mean to say anything about the letters to our fathers, asking them to take us away from the ship?" inquired Lindsley.

"That looks a little like a threat," objected Raymond. "Besides, we don't know how many fellows will agree to send such letters."

"Let us go round and see," suggested Lindsley.

"We will, if there is time."

As the record of the preceding chapter testifies, there was an abundance of time to carry out this or any other preliminary measure. Raymond and Lindsley proceeded to canvass the rebels in regard to the letters. The eighteen runaways were ready to assent to anything, but only about half of the others were willing to give in their allegiance to what they regarded as a mean scheme. Some even declared they would back out if anything of this sort was to be attempted. Raymond was politic enough not to press the measure very hard, and he returned to his room with the names of only thirty, instead of fifty, which he had expected to obtain.

"That's enough to make a show with," said Lindsley.

"But I don't intend to say anything about the letters to the principal, if he is willing to do the fair thing by us."

"What are they about on deck? It is half an hour since the boatswain piped all hands," said Hyde, jumping out of his berth.

"I'm sure I don't know," replied Lindsley, uneasily. "I should think they had found out by this time that something was the matter."

"I know one thing," said Wilde, with a significant shake of the head, as though he had made an important discovery.

"What's that?" demanded the others, in the same breath.

"They have put the grating on the main hatch, so that we can't go on deck if we wish to do so," replied Wilde, who had begun to be regarded as one with a weak back.

"No matter for that," answered Raymond, with an effort to laugh, though he was far from being satisfied with the situation as indicated by the closed hatch. "As we don't want to go on deck, it makes no difference to us."

"That's so," added Lindsley. "They have put on the grating to make a show. They can't do anything while sixty of the crew are below."

"Are you sure there are sixty?" asked Hyde, doubtfully.

"Take twelve from the whole crew, and it leaves sixty. But count them for yourself, if you are not satisfied with my figures."

"I will;" and he left the mess-room for this purpose.

He had the curiosity to look up the hatch, and made another discovery—that the stout boatswain was there, apparently keeping watch. The faithful had just marched to the quarter-deck, to indicate that they were willing to "keep their own counsel," as requested by the principal. Hyde returned to the room to report the fact. It looked like decided measures to him.

"I think we are caged," said he.

"No matter if we are," replied Raymond, with a sneer. "One thing is plain enough; they can't go to sea without us."

"No; twelve fellows can't get the anchor up, even with the help of Peaks," added Lindsley.

"O, we've got them," persisted Raymond. "We are a majority of all hands, even if you count the officers on the other side; and I happen to know they are as much dissatisfied as we are."

Hyde left the room again, and succeeded in making a count of all the seamen in the steerage.

"Humph!" snuffed he, on his return. "You counted the fellows with your elbows, Raymond. There are only forty-four in the steerage."

"Forty-four!" sneered Raymond. "Does twelve from seventy-two leave forty-four?"

"No; but twenty-eight from seventy-two leaves forty-four," retorted Hyde. "I'm sure I'm right."

Raymond was not satisfied, and counted for himself, but with no different result; and Lindsley suggested that some of the twenty-eight were on deck when the boatswain's call sounded.

"Well, what's the odds?" demanded the mortified leader of the moderate party. "They can't get the ship under way with twenty-eight much better than with twelve. It takes thirty-two to man the capstan. What are they doing on deck?"

"I don't know," replied Hyde. "I was going up the ladder to ascertain, but Peaks drove me away. I heard them lowering boats, but I could not make out what they intend to do."

"O, it's all right. You needn't fret about it," added the leader.

Probably no one was more disturbed than he. The lowering of the boats was discussed in full, but nothing could be made of it, though Raymond insisted that the ship could not go to sea while the boats were away. Half an hour later they heard the faithful on deck hoisting up the boats. Hyde stood at the door of the mess-room watching the hatchway, for any chance revelation of the principal's intentions. The same doubt and uncertainty, as well as curiosity in regard to the movements on deck, prevailed in all the other mess-rooms. It had been agreed that all hands should remain in their rooms; but this agreement was now violated, and most of the mutineers were gathered at the doors, anxious to obtain intelligence from the deck.

Suddenly the grating was removed from the hatch.

"All hands, up anchor, ahoy!" shouted the boatswain, for the third, and, as it proved, the last time.

But no one came below to remonstrate, or ask for the explanation which a majority of the rebels were now exceedingly anxious to give. The moment the call sounded, Wilde walked towards the ladder.

"Where are you going?" demanded Raymond, angrily.

"I have had enough of this thing," he replied, and, without waiting for any further parley, went on deck, though the rebels hissed him.

Another seaman from one of the other mess-rooms followed his example, though Howe seized him by the collar, and attempted to detain him by force. Fortunately he was a stout fellow, and shook off his assailant. A storm of hisses and abuse followed him as he went up the ladder. Doubtless this treatment of the weak-backed, as they were considered, deterred others from imitating their example, for the faithful had only these two added to their number.

"I'm glad we are rid of them," said Raymond. "Fellows with weak backs don't do us any good."

"They add to our number, at any rate," replied Hyde, who, if he could have escaped the odium of the movement, would have gone on deck himself.

"No matter for that; we have forty-two left, and the ship can't go to sea without our help," added Raymond.

"I'm not quite sure of that," answered Hyde.

"No matter if she does go to sea," said Lindsley.

"But she can't go," persisted Raymond. "All we want is a chance to state our grievances; and the principal is not going to let us stay down here a great many days without knowing what the matter is."

"Hark!" said Hyde, as the boatswain's whistle sounded on deck.

"Man the capstan!" shouted Goodwin, the first lieutenant.

"Doesn't that look as though the ship was going to sea?" added the sceptical Hyde. "I tell you what it is, fellows, we are sold!"

"Sold? Not a bit of it! We are in the winning boat."

"Not exactly."

The rebels listened to the merry pipe of those who walked around the capstan, and heard the grating of the chain cables as they passed through the tiers into the lockers in the hold. It was plain enough that thirty-two hands had been found to man the capstan, for the anchor was certainly coming up from its miry bed. These sounds produced something like consternation among the mutineers, for they indicated at least a partial failure of the scheme in which they had trusted for redress.

"Go ahead!" shouted the executive officer through his trumpet.

"Go ahead?" repeated Raymond, as he went to the sky-light. "Not a sail has been set."

"But she is moving," said Hyde. "I see how it is. They have taken a tug-steamer."

"They are not going to tow the ship to Belfast," answered Raymond, as he went to one of the port gangways from which the mess-rooms opened. "There goes the Josephine, under sail. In my opinion, they are only dropping down to another anchorage. The principal will not think of such a thing as going to sea with only thirty seamen. It isn't safe to do so."

"When it isn't safe, Peaks will be down here, and you will have to turn out and do duty," said Hyde.

At that instant, as if to verify the prophecy of the croaker, the stalwart boatswain, with the assistance of the carpenter, lifted the grating off the main hatch. Most of the rebels retreated to their rooms; but it was a false alarm, for the two adult seamen, instead of coming below themselves, only lifted up the ladder, and drew it on deck, restoring the grating when it was done.

"That looks like something," said Lindsley.

"I tell you we are sold," added Hyde. "The principal isn't coming down here to ask us for an explanation. It isn't his style."

"Don't croak any more, Hyde," protested Raymond, in disgust.

"I only say we are sold, and you can't deny it."

"Wait and see."

They did wait, and after a while they heard the order to shake out the topsails. Looking up through the main skylight, they saw lieutenants, masters, and midshipmen, on the yards. They listened to the voices of Paul Kendall, Gordon, and Haven, issuing orders which were usually given by the lieutenants. From what they saw and what they heard, they were enabled to arrive at a tolerably correct solution of the means by which the ship was at present handled. They understood that the larger portion of the officers were doing duty as seamen, while the past officers were serving as volunteers under the captain.

"We might as well cave in, and go on deck," said Hyde, after the movements on deck had been thoroughly discussed.

"Humph! You can't get on deck, to begin with," replied Raymond. "But I haven't any idea of giving it up so."

"The plan has failed—that's plain enough," added Hyde.

"Not yet."

"I think it has. We are whipped out, and the sooner we make our peace with Mr. Lowington, the better it will be for us."

"If you mean to back out, say so, Hyde."

"I don't want to back out while the rest of the fellows stick."

"How will it do to send a messenger to the principal, state our grievances, and have the thing over?" suggested Johnson.

This idea met with considerable favor, but the principal objection to the measure was, that the messenger could not get on deck, as the ladder was removed from the main hatch, and the forward one was closed. The ship careened, the waves dashed against the bow, and it was evident that she was going to sea in good earnest. A large portion of the rebels were now studying up a plan to get out of the scrape, rather than to establish their rights. The boatswain's whistle sounded on deck, and all hands were piped to muster. Vainly the mutineers tried to ascertain what was going on, while Mr. Lowington was making his explanation to the faithful; but the parties were on the quarter-deck beyond their sight and hearing. Only the applause which followed Grace's proposition to decorate the members of the Order of the Faithful reached their ears. The ceremony itself, which took place in the waist, indicated that those on deck were having an exceedingly jolly time, though the nature of the performance was not understood. Then, when the Grand Protectress was elected, the hilarious mirth of the Faithful was positively sickening to the rebels. Those on deck appeared to be making fun of those below, for what else could they be laughing at, since the refusal of the rebels to do duty must be the all-absorbing topic on board? The situation was very unsatisfactory to the mild mutineers, and not very hopeful to the runaways.

"Let them laugh," said Raymond, whistling up his courage, so that he could maintain the dignity and firmness of a leader. "If we hold out, we shall carry our point. I have looked at the tell-tale, and the ship is headed to the north-west. If the course means anything, it means Belfast."

"What's the use of talking?" exclaimed Johnson. "The plan I proposed is the only one now. I move you we send a messenger to the principal."

"You can't get on deck," retorted Raymond.

"We can hail some one on deck, or knock at the door of the main cabin."

"It looks like backing out," added Lindsley.

"That is what we shall have to do in the end, and we may as well do it first as last," said Hyde.

"Hold on! Here comes Howe," continued Lindsley. "Let us hear what he has to say."

"I don't care what he says," muttered Hyde, who, like many other of the mild rebels, was not willing to join hands with the virulent and intense ones.

"I say, fellows, we are not making much on this tack," Howe began, as he joined the group at the door of the mess-room. "We are going to have a meeting abaft the foremast, to decide what shall be done next. All hands are invited."

Howe moved on to extend the invitation to others.