bout forward. "Some on
you's took it for a game, and Lufftenant Staples ain't the man to stand
no larks. `Where's that there boathook, Joe Dance?' he says. `Produce
it 'twonce, sir, or--' `Ay, ay, sir. Starn all it is. Where are you
coming? Pull. Starboard there--On Portsmouth hard in Portsmouth town.
Three cheers, my merry lads--Now then, pull--pull hard--Ay, ay, sir--Now
all together, my lads!'"

As the coxswain was speaking from out of the darkness, to the wonderment
of all, Tom Fillot whispered quickly to his young officer,--

"It's the crack he got, sir. He'll be overboard if we don't mind. Poor
chap, he has gone right off his nut."

Creeping forward past the men, Tom made for where Joe Dance was speaking
loudly, evidently under the belief that he was talking to a number of
people around. Then, stamping about in the boat, his words came forth
more rapidly, but in quite a confused gabble, of which hardly a single
word was comprehensible. Invisible though he was, it was evident that
he was growing more and more excited, for his words flowed strangely,
swiftly, and then became a mere babble, as, with a shout, he rushed aft
at the touch of Tom Fillot.

"Stop him, some on you; he's mad!" roared Tom Fillot; and as
instinctively Mark started up, it was to be seized by the poor wretch in
his delirium, and held back, in spite of his struggles, more and more
over the side of the boat toward the sea.

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

A DISABLED CREW.

"I thought it was all over with you, sir," said Tom Fillot, who,
regardless of those over whom he had passed, had plunged aft and thrown
himself upon the coxswain, bearing him and the young midshipman down
into the stern-sheets of the boat, and holding the former till he was
dragged away, laid in the bottom, and held down forward, in spite of his
struggles and cries.

"I thought so, too, Tom. Ugh! how horrible! As if our position was not
bad enough before; it is too hard to have a madman on board."

"'Tis, sir; but I wonder we ain't all mad. My head's bad enough for me
to be. Are you much hurt, sir?"

"More frightened than hurt. I thought we should have been over into the
black water."

"And it you had been, he'd ha' drowned you, as sure as sure, sir, for we
couldn't ha' found you in the darkness."

"And the worst of it is, I don't know what to do," said Mark. "If Dr
Whitney were only here."

"No use to wish, sir. If it was, I'd wish the _Naughtylass_ wa