ked shoreward to faintly discern the
tops of some palms, but all below these was shut in by haze which rose
from the mouth of the river.

"Doesn't look a healthy place, and this can't be a healthy ship,
Vandean, but we must make the best of it, and be off to sea at the first
chance."

They both stood at the head of the cabin stairs, and took another look
round, to see if anything had been left undone; and just then Dance the
coxswain came up and touched his hat.

"Shall I hoist an anchor-light, sir, as soon as it's dark?" said the
man, respectfully.

"No," replied the lieutenant, decisively. "No one is likely to run us
down, here. Now, Vandean."

He led the way into the cabin, saying, "We don't want to show people
ashore where we are. Hah! that's right. This is Tom Fillot's doing.
He's a handy fellow."

He pointed to the preparations for a meal of no mean proportions, for
the skipper of the schooner and his crew had been liberally provided for
by their owners; and now, feeling hungry for the first time that day,
Mark ate a hearty supper. After a little chat they went on deck again,
to find that the sky was now literally black, and the only thing visible
as they lay there in the utter silence was a star-like light lying
apparently close by--a light which Mark knew at once must be that of the
_Nautilus_.

"Why, she has come in closer while we've been below," he said.

"On the contrary, she has run out with the tide, and is a good two miles
away. Let's have a look round."

The first movement was to the sentry on guard over the hatch, from which
came the sounds of heavy breathing, and the man reported in a whisper
that the blacks had not made another sound.

The rest of the watch were next visited, and there was nothing to
report.

"There," said the lieutenant, "all's well. Go and sleep, my lad. I'll
keep a faithful watch over you; when your turn comes do the same for me.
Good-night."

"Good-night, sir," said Mark, eagerly taking the hand extended to him,
and gripping it firmly. Then going below, feeling weary, but unwilling
to leave the deck, he crept into the skipper's comfortable bunk to rest
himself, feeling certain that he would not sleep. For it was very hot
down there, in spite of the open cabin window; the mosquitoes were
uttering their tiresome fine-drawn hum, and he was excited by the events
of the day.

"It's like going to sleep on the edge of a volcano," he thought.
"Suppose the blac