hed furiously and wildly above his head, and his voice
was still heard crying, till the sounds rattled in his throat,--

"Come on, ye knaves! come on!--Harry--Harry Ark! O God!--Hurrah!"

He fell like a log, and died the unwitting possessor of that very
commission for which he had toiled throughout a life of hardship and
danger. Until now Wilder had made good his quarter of the deck though
pressed by a band as fierce and daring as his own; but, at this fearful
crisis in the combat, a voice was heard in the melee, that thrilled on all
his nerves, and seemed even to carry its fearful influence over the minds
of his men.

"Make way there, make way!" it said, in tones clear, deep, and breathing
with authority, "make way, and follow; no hand but mine shall lower that
vaunting flag!"

"Stand to your faith, my men!" shouted Wilder in reply. Shouts, oaths,
imprecations, and groans formed a fearful accompaniment of the rude
encounter, which was, however, far too violent to continue long. Wilder
saw, with agony, that numbers and impetuosity were sweeping his supporters
from around him. Again and again he called them to the succour with his
voice, or stimulated them to daring by his example.

Friend after friend fell at his feet, until he was driven to the utmost
extremity of the deck. Here he again rallied a little band, against which
several furious charges were made, in vain.

"Ha!" exclaimed a voice he well knew; "death to all traitors! Spit the
spy, as you would a dog! Charge through them, my bullies; a halbert to the
hero who shall reach his heart!"

"Avast, ye lubber!" returned the stern tones of the staunch Richard. "Here
are a white man and a nigger at your service, if you've need of a spit."

"Two more of the gang!" continued the General aiming a blow that
threatened to immolate the topman as he spoke.

A dark half-naked form was interposed to receive the descending blade,
which fell on the staff of a half-pike and severed it as though it had
been a reed. Nothing daunted by the defenceless state in which he found
himself, Scipio made his way to the front of Wilder, where, with a body
divested to the waist of every garment, and empty handed, he fought with
his brawny arms, like one who despised the cuts, thrusts and assaults, of
which his athletic frame immediately became the helpless subject.

"Give it to 'em, right and left, Guinea," cried Fid: "here is one who will
come in as a backer, so soon as he has stopp