Fillot, which was gradually growing
plainer in the coming light.

"They're a-hauling the chain cable out o' the cask, sir, and running it
back into the tier. Hadn't we better make a try, sir, now they're
busy?"

"Yes. Now then, Fillot--Bannock, open that hatch, and then follow me."

"Better let me go first, sir," growled Tom. "I'm harder than you, and
had better take the first hits."

"Don't talk," cried Mark, snappishly. "Now then, can you get it open?"

"No, sir," grumbled Tom, after a good deal of trying, thrusting and
dragging at it. "Tight as a hoyster."

As he spoke, he and Bannock heaved and thrust at the door, and a heavy
blow was struck upon it outside.

"Keep below there, dew yew hear?" came in an unmistakable voice.

"You might as well mind your own business," growled Tom Fillot.

"D'yer hear? Keep below."

The door cracked again with Tom Fillot's efforts, and the next moment
there was a sharp report, and a bullet crashed through.

"Guess yew'd best keep from ahind that theer hatchway, strangers, for
I'm out o' practyse, and I'm going to make a target o' that theer door."

"Stand down, Tom," said Mark.

"Oh, I ain't feared, sir, if you like to say keep on," cried Tom Fillot.

"I know that, my lad; but I'm not going to run foolish risks."

The man came down, and the little party stood gazing at each other in
the low ceiled cabin, as the first rays of the rising sun flooded the
place, and they could see the schooner astern, with Joe Dance, and
Taters the black, looking over the bows eagerly, as if wondering what
had taken place.

Mark turned to where Mr Russell lay, in the same calm state of stupor,
and the sun lit up his face.

"Don't look like dying, sir," said Tom Fillot. "Strikes me, sir, as
he's getting all the best of it."

Mark turned upon him angrily, and Tom Fillot gave him a deprecating
look.

"Beg pardon, sir. It's my tongue, not me. It will talk."

"I suppose the others are imprisoned in the forecastle," said Mark,
ignoring his remark.

"Dessay, sir. That's why they were getting the chain out of the cask."

"I hope they are not much hurt."

"Oh, I don't suppose they are, sir. We Naughtylasses are all about as
hard a lot as the captain could pick out."

"Ay, ay," said Dick Bannock, "they're knocked about, same as we."

Just then there reached them a savage yell; the report of a pistol, and
then another; and it was evident from the sounds that a fierce confli