about to be
inflicted upon him for his lapse from duty.

The men looked on eagerly, and thoughts of flogging, putting in irons,
even of hanging, flashed across their minds, as they gazed in their
young officer's face.

Mark did not speak for a few moments, and then drawing a long breath,
and forgetting his youthfulness, everything in the fact that he was in
supreme authority as a British officer there, he spoke out firmly.

"It is of no use to waste words with you, my man," he said. "I was
ready to trust you and treat you as a British sailor, but you have
broken faith. You cannot understand my words, but your own heart tells
you that you have done wrong. There--I cannot punish you for being
neglectful and ignorant, but in future you will be only one of the
blacks."

He turned his back upon the great fellow, who shivered at the lad's
words, and then, with a cry of despair, ran after his officer, flung
himself down on the deck at his feet, and held up the cutlass he had
drawn when he went on duty and had held ever since. He held it up by
the blade, and made signs for Mark to take it and use it upon him.

"There is no need to punish you," said Mark, quietly; "you feel your
position quite bitterly enough. There, get up, man, and go to your
duty. I ought to have known better than to trust you. Get up."

As the black still grovelled at his feet, Mark stooped down and caught
hold of his collar, giving it a drag, and the man rose to his knees.

"No," said Mark, making signs; "sheathe your cutlass. I am not a
West-coast tyrant, ready to take off your head. Get them away, Bannock,
I want to think of what is to be done next."

The sailor stepped forward, and clapped the big black on the shoulder.

"Come along, my hearty. You've got off wonderfully easy. No cat for
you to-day. It's all right."

"All righ'?" cried the black, eagerly.

"Yes."

"No all righ'," he continued, mournfully, as he shook his head and rose
to follow the sailor; but he turned directly and ran to Mark's side,
sank on one knee, and kissed his hand. Then he rose, and hurried off
with his fellow sleeper.

"You're a rum 'un, Soup," growled the sailor. "Who'd have thought it of
a savage? Why, it was reg'lar polite and genteel. I couldn't ha' done
that. Who'd ha' expected it of a chap who dresses in an orstridge
feather and a wisp o' grass when he's at home?"

The black gazed at him inquiringly, striving hard to make out his
meanin