and, though a couple more shots were fired, the bullets were only
flattened against the iron links.

"Hah, that gives us breathing time, my lads," cried Mark. "Now then,
what next?"

"Daylight'd be the best thing, sir," said Dance; "and then I should be
able to see about--"

He stopped short, put his hand to his head, and looked around vacantly.

"What was it I wanted to see about?"

"It's all right, messmate; don't you worry about that," cried Tom,
clapping him on the shoulder.

"Eh? No, I won't, Tom," said Dance, thoughtfully. "It's my head goes
all foggy sometimes, and then I can't think; but I'm all right again,
ain't I, mate? Not going to be like the lufftenant, eh?"

"Not you," said Tom Fillot.

The coxswain laughed.

"Yes, I'm coming round," he said. "Head's a bit soft, that's all; but
I'm coming round."

While this was going on, Mark had turned to the black, whose shirt was
wet with the blood which oozed from the score made in his shoulder by
the bullet fired at him when first the attempt was made to escape, and
then by the light of a lantern, while the man knelt down, the wound was
bound up, the black smiling and making very light of it the while.

As Mark busied himself, he could not help thinking of how much demand
there was made upon an officer in command, with the result that his
respect for those over him was wonderfully increased.

All further thought of rest for the men was given up, and the remainder
of the night was devoted to keeping a careful watch, Mark pacing the
deck and stopping to have a quiet consultation now and then with his
mate.

"I can't think where they obtained their arms, Tom," he said on one
occasion.

"Oh, you needn't wonder at that, sir," replied the man, with a laugh.
"'Mericans ain't like Englishmen, and pretty well every man jack of
'em's got a pistol hid somewhere about him. It ain't to be wondered at,
sir," continued the man, stretching out and clenching his big hand. "I
never see a 'Merican yet with a good fist like that, and a man must have
something to fight with when he goes knocking about in the world. Well,
sir, as you say I'm to be mate while we're on this expedition, p'r'aps
you won't mind me asking what you're going to do next 'bout the
prisoners. Is it to be irons?"

"No," said Mark, firmly. "I can't do that."

"Then if I were you, sir, I'd risk them trying to take the schooner
again, and send 'em adrift first thing in one of the boats."