he shuddered violently.

He was already sick to death of war. But the fight was not yet over. He
heard footsteps on the ladder behind him, and turned just in time to
escape a sweeping sword stroke. Next instant he was locked in a deadly
struggle with the captain of the _Nevski_, a brave man, who, it seems,
had refused to surrender, and had cut his way through all Sievers's men
in the desperate resolve to retrieve the consequences of his own
carelessness. Maclean, however, was a practised wrestler, and although
lean almost as a lath, the muscles he possessed were as strong as steel
bands. Even as they fell he writhed uppermost, and baffling with an
active elbow the captain's last effort to transfix him, he dashed his
adversary's head upon the boards. A second later he arose, breathless,
but quite uninjured.

Sievers was calling to him: "Maclean! Maclean! I say!"

"Hallo, there!" he gasped back, hoarsely.

"Look out for the captain. He escaped us!"

"I've got him!" croaked Maclean, with a grim glance at his unconscious
foe. "How about the rest?"

"All sigarnio! What shall I do?"

"Drive them forward to the foc'sle."

Sievers obeyed, and very soon five splendidly upholstered, but
shamefaced-looking gentlemen, three stewards, and four sailors were
standing underneath the beacon light before the forecastle companion.
Maclean noted that already many of the _Saigon's_ men carried swords and
carbines. He watched the rest arm themselves with the _Nevski_ sailors'
discarded weapons as they marched their prisoners along the deck. His
breast began to swell with pride.

"Any casualties?" he demanded.

"Two of ours have crossed over," replied Sievers, "and some of us are
hurt a bit. But we can't grumble. There are four Russian corpses aft,
and I see you've bagged seven."

"Damned pirates!" commented Maclean. "I've a mind to shoot the rest of
them out of hand."

"Just give the word, sir."

"No," said Maclean, "we'll maroon them instead. Lower away all the
boats but one, Sievers, and bring them under the bows. I can look after
these dogs!"

"Ay, ay, sir. But first three cheers for Captain Maclean, lads!"

The cheers were given with hearty good-will, and then the men tramped
off to carry out their new task.

Maclean, whose face was still flushed from the compliment that had been
paid him, leaned over the machine-gun and surveyed the prisoners.

"Can any of you pirate scum speak English?" he demanded truculently.