"Tom!" cried the lad passionately. "How can I scheme an explosion and
blow the wretches up without powder?"

"Zackly so, sir; that's what I've been thinking. You can't, can yer?"

"No, Tom."

"Couldn't make a big pot or kettle so hot that when they come along next
time it would bust, could you, sir?"

"No, Tom, I certainly could not," said the middy decisively.

"Course not, sir," growled the man, frowning.

"We're beaten, Tom; we're absolutely beaten," said Murray bitterly; "and
the next time the wretches come on it will be the last."

"Oh, I dunno, sir. Never say die! Don't you be downhearted, sir.
There's a deal o' fight in us yet, as you'll see nex' time the beggars
makes a roosh."

"No, Tom; we're getting weaker and weaker."

"Yah! I wonder at you, sir," said the sailor, moistening his hand,
taking a good grip of his cutlass, and then laying it down again.
"We're getting a bit longer rest this time, and jest as like as not,
sir, they'll begin to tire soon."

"No, Tom; they fight with a desperate energy which is too much for us."

"Well, they do go it, sir, I must say. You see, it makes a deal o'
differ when a man's got a noose round his neck. They knows that if they
don't get the best of us they'll be strung up to the yard-arm, and it
sets 'em thinking that they may as well fight it out as that. But
there, we're not licked yet, sir, though I must say as it was a nasty
knock for us when the first luff went down, knocked silly as he was by
that swivel-eyed Molatter chap--'bout as ugly a ruffian as ever I did
see. Then, too, it was a bit o' hard luck for us when that darkie chap
got rooshed off in the muddle. He would ha' been useful to fetch powder
and help load."

"When there was no powder, Tom?" said the lad bitterly.

"Yes, sir; I meant if there had been any, o' course. Poor chap, he
couldn't help being a black un, could he, sir? I've thought over and
over again that if he could ha' grown white and talked like a Christian,
sir, he'd ha' made quite a man."

"Lie still, Tom," cried Murray, laying a hand upon the big sailor's arm.

"Thought they was coming on agen, sir?"

"No, no! I'll rouse you up the moment I hear them advancing. Rest all
you can."

"Thankye, sir," said the man drowsily. "But you won't go to sleep, sir?
You must be dead tired yourself, sir, and it's so dark it may tempt
yer, sir."

"You may trust me, Tom."

"Course I may, sir. But I think if I was you I'd