give the first luff
another drink o' water, sir."

"I did a short time ago, Tom."

"And I been thinking, sir, that if you could tie three or four sheets
together and slide down 'em you might get hold o' that ladder they put
up again' the window to swarm up."

"I did, Tom, when you told me the last time."

"Course you did, sir, and I forgot," said the man drowsily. "But what's
that there?"

"What?" asked Murray, as he sat listening in the darkness, with his
exhausted comrades lying about beside the barricaded window.

"That there," whispered the man, pointing through the gloom over where a
dark line was formed by a piece of furniture.

Murray made a snatch at the sailor's cutlass, took a firm grip of the
hilt, and then creeping cautiously over two of the recumbent sailors,
made for the opening, now quite satisfied that May's eyes even now had
been sharper than his own, and that one of the enemy was stealing up by
means of some bamboo pole or ladder, to guide his companions into the
bravely defended room.

Murray rose slowly, threw back the heavy sharp blade till the hilt
rested against his left ear, and gathering into the effort all his force
he was about to deliver his cut upon the unguarded enemy's head, when
there was a quick whisper:

"Massa Murray no hit. Take hold 'fore Caesar tumble down."

The middy loosened his hold of the cutlass just in time, and catching
hold of the black's hand with both his own, dragged him over the
barricade right into the room.

"Hullo, darkie," whispered Tom May; "it is you, is it?"

"Yes, Massa Big Tom," replied the black feebly, and as if speaking in
weakness and in pain.

"Thought you'd come back to your friends again. Didn't bring in any
more powder, did you?"

"No, Massa Tom," replied the poor fellow faintly. "Caesar nearly get
kill. T'ink nebber see poor Massa Allen again. Couldn't find um."

"Did you, blackie? Well, we all began to think something of that kind."

"Massa Murray Frank and all Bri'sh sailor come 'long o' Caesar. T'ink
take um where Massa Allen must be."

"No, my man," said the middy sadly. "I can't leave my friends here. We
must hold this place to the last."

The black sank back on the littered floor and groaned.

"Poor Massa Allen!" he said.

"Lookye here, darkie," said the big sailor; "tain't no use to howl.
What do you say to getting a good bunch of palm leaves and waiting till
these slaver beggars come again, and then setting