ut. But I'm beginning to think that they'll have us
before we get the wind. You see, it's nearly calm."

"Yes," said the skipper, "I see; and I wonder they haven't begun firing
before."

He walked right aft with the mate, leaving the lads alone, with Poole
looking five years older, so blank and drawn was his face. But it
brightened directly, as he felt the warm grip of the young middy's hand,
and heard his words.

"Oh, Poole, old chap," Fitz half whispered, after a glance round to see
if they were likely to be overheard, but only to find that every seaman
was either intent upon his duty or watching the enemy in expectation of
a first shell or ball from the heavy gun. "Oh, Poole, old chap," he
said again, "I am sorry--I am indeed!"

"Sorry?" said Poole quietly. "Yes; for you've all been very kind to
me."

"Well, I am glad to hear you say so, for I tried to be, and the dad
liked you because you were such a cocky, plucky little chap. But there:
it's no use to cry over spilt milk. I suppose it isn't spilt yet,
though," he added, with a little laugh; "but the jug will be cracked
directly, and away it will all go into the sea. But I say, can you
swim?"

"Oh yes, I can swim. I learnt when I was a cadet."

"That's right; and if we can't get off in one of the boats you keep
close alongside of me--I know the dad will like me to stick with you--
and I'll get a life-belt, or one of the buoys, and we will share it
together, one to rest in it while the other swims and tows. We'll get
to shore somehow, never fear--the whole lot of us, I expect, for the
lads will stand by, I am sure."

"Yes, yes," said Fitz, glancing round over the sunlit sea. "But what
about the sharks?"

"Oh!" ejaculated Poole involuntarily, and he changed colour.

It was just as the skipper and mate came walking sharply forward again.

"There!" cried the latter triumphantly. "What did I say?"

"Splendid!" cried the skipper. "But will it last?"

"It did yesterday. Why not to-day?" cried the mate fiercely.

For the wind had suddenly come in a sharp gust which filled the sails,
making several of them snap with a loud report, laid the schooner on her
beam-ends, and sent her rushing through the water for some hundred
yards, making it come foaming up through the scuppers in fountains, to
flood the deck, before she was eased off by the man at the wheel and
rose again.

But directly after the calm asserted itself once more; the greater part