‘My hook thinks you did,’ said Hook, crossing to him. ‘I wonder if it would not be advisable, Starkey, to humour the hook?’

‘I’ll swing before I go in there,’ replied Starkey doggedly, and again he had the support of the crew.

‘Is it mutiny?’ asked Hook more pleasantly than ever. ‘Starkey’s ring-leader.’

‘Captain, mercy,’ Starkey whimpered, all of a tremble now.

‘Shake hands, Starkey,’ said Hook, proffering his claw.

Starkey looked round for help, but all deserted him. As he backed Hook advanced, and now the red spark was in his eye. With a despairing scream the pirate leapt upon Long Tom and precipitated himself into the sea.

‘Four,’ said Slightly.

‘And now,’ Hook asked courteously, ‘did any other gentleman say mutiny?’ Seizing a lantern and raising his claw with a menacing gesture, ‘I’ll bring out that doodle-doo myself,’ he said, and sped into the cabin.

‘Five.’ How Slightly longed to say it. He wetted his lips to be ready, but Hook came staggering out, without his lantern.

‘Something blew out the light,’ he said a little unsteadily.

‘Something!’ echoed Mullins.

‘What of Cecco?’ demanded Noodler.

‘He’s as dead as Jukes,’ said Hook shortly.

His reluctance to return to the cabin impressed them all unfavourably, and the mutinous sounds again broke forth. All pirates are superstitious; and Cookson cried, ‘They do say the surest sign a ship’s accurst is when there’s one on board more than can be accounted for.’

‘I’ve heard,’ muttered Mullins, ‘he always boards the pirate craft at last. Had he a tail, captain?’

‘They say,’ said another, looking viciously at Hook, ‘that when he comes it’s in the likeness of the wickedest man aboard.’

‘Had he a hook, captain?’ asked Cookson insolently; and one after another took up the cry, ‘The ship’s doomed.’ At this the children could not resist raising a cheer. Hook had wellnigh forgotten his prisoners, but as he swung round on them now his face lit up again.

‘Lads,’ he cried to his crew, ‘here’s a notion. Open the cabin door and drive them in. Let them fight the doodle-doo for their lives. If they kill him we’re so much the better; if he kills them we’re none the worse.’

For the last time his dogs admired Hook, and devotedly they did his bidding. The boys, pretending to struggle, were pushed into the cabin and the door was closed on them.

‘Now, listen,’ cried Hook, and all listened. But not one dared to face the door. Yes, one, Wendy, who all this time had been bound to the mast. It was for neither a scream nor a crow that she was watching; it was for the reappearance of Peter.

She had not long to wait. In the cabin he had found the thing for which he had gone in search: the key that would free the children of their manacles; and now they all stole forth, armed with such weapons as they could find. First signing to them to hide, Peter cut Wendy’s bonds, and then nothing could have