"Yes, sir; and the sooner the better," replied the latter.

"The sooner the better? Yes," said the captain, nodding; "and if we have to sink her that will be work more worthy for our metal. But patience, patience. Yes; for sailors like better work than sinking a few savage canoes. But, as I said, patience. You hot-blooded boys are always in such a hurry. All in good time. I'm not going to rest till I have got hold of my smooth, smiling Yankee, and I promise you a treat— some real fighting with his crew of brutal hounds. I'll sink his schooner, or lay the Seafowl alongside, and then—it will be risky but glorious, and you boys shall both of you, if you like, join the boarders. What do you say to that?"

The captain did not wait for an answer, but tucked his telescope more closely under his arm and marched aft, to stand gazing over the stern rail at the last of the war canoes, which disappeared directly in one of the river bends, while the sloop glided rapidly on towards the muddy river's mouth.

"Well, Dick, how do you feel now?" said Murray, smiling.

Roberts knit his brows into a fierce frown as if ready to resent any remark his messmate might make. But the genial, open, frank look which met his disarmed him of all annoyance, and he cleared his throat with a cough.

"Oh, I don't agree with him about the treatment of those blacks," he said. "There's a want of stern, noble justice about his running down that canoe."

"But it answered all purposes, Dick."

"Humph! Maybe; but it looked so small, especially when we had all our guns loaded and the men ready for action."

"Patience," said Murray merrily, taking up the captain's words. "Patience! You boys—hot-blooded boys are always in such a hurry. Wait a bit, old chap, and when we catch up to the Yankee we're to have a turn at the boarding. You'll have a try, eh?"

"Will I?" said the boy, screwing up his features and setting his teeth hard. "Will I! Yes!"

"Mean it?"

"Yes, I believe so," said Roberts thoughtfully. "I felt ready for anything when those war canoes were coming on, and I believe I should feel just the same if the lads were standing ready to board the schooner. But I don't know; perhaps I should be all of a squirm. I don't want to brag. It all depends. Those who make the most fuss, Frank, do the least. We shall see."

"Yes," said Murray, looking at his comrade with a curious, searching gaze; "we shall see."



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

THE DOCTOR IS RILED.

It was with a peculiar feeling of relief that all on board the sloop passed out into the open and saw the dull green banks of the mangrove forest fading away astern. For there had been a haunting feeling of depression hanging over the vessel which seemed to affect the spirits of officers and men.

"Hah!" said the doctor, coming up to where the two middies were gazing over the stern rail, "that's a comfort, boys. I can breathe freely now."

"Yes," said Murray; "the air seems so much fresher and makes one feel more elastic, sir. Gives one more of an appetite."

"What!" said the doctor drily. "More of an appetite, eh? I never noticed that you two wanted that. Gracious, how much do you want to devour!"

"Oh, I say, doctor, I don't eat so much," said Murray, protesting.

"No, sir; it isn't so much; it's too much."

"You're mixing us up, doctor," said the lad mischievously, and he gave the professional gentleman a peculiarly meaning look. "You were thinking of Roberts."

"Here, what's that?" said the middy sharply. "I'm sure I never eat more than a fellow of my age and size should."

"Oh, I say, Dick," said Murray. "Hear him, doctor? Why, I've seen the mess steward open his eyes sometimes with wonder."

"Tchah! He's always opening his eyes with wonder, staring at everything. He's a regular idiot."

"Ah, well," said Murray, "I don't want to draw comparisons."

"Then don't do it," cried Roberts warmly.

"Don't be so peppery, my lad," said the doctor.

"Well, I don't want to be accused of gluttony or eating to excess."

"Pooh! Don't mind what he says," said the doctor good-humouredly. "I hate excess, but it does me good to see growing boys make a hearty meal."

"Frank Murray's too fond of bantering, doctor," said Roberts; and then, involuntarily passing a finger tenderly over the spots where the incipient bits of whisker had been singed off, "I don't quite look upon myself as a growing boy."

"Oh, don't you?" said the doctor, rather gruffly. "I should have thought you had not done putting on inches. There, never mind Murray's chaff. By the way, why do you keep shaving yourself down the cheeks with that finger? does the skin feel tender where you were so much scorched?"

"Yes, doctor, a little," replied the youth innocently enough.

"H'm, yes, but that cream I gave you does good, doesn't it?"

"Oh yes, doctor."

"Nasty scorching you fellows all had. I quite expected to have some bad patients—burns and spear wounds. Lucky escapes, all of you. That Titely was the worst, but the way in which a good healthy sailor's flesh heals up is wonderful. It's just like cutting into a piece of raw native indiarubber before it has been fooled about and manufactured up with brimstone—vulcanised, as they call it. You lads ought to bear it in mind, in case you get a cut or a chop. All that's wanted is to see that the wound is thoroughly clean and dry, and then squeeze the sides up together and the flesh adheres after the fashion of a clean cut in indiarubber. Ah, I like a good clean cut."

"What!" cried the lads together, as half laughingly they stared at the speaker in surprise.

"Well, what are you both looking at? I don't mean that I personally like cuts; but they're pleasant to get healed up—not like bullet wounds or ragged holes through a fellow."

"No," said Murray; "not like holes."

"Not that I mind a clean bullet hole through the flesh so long as it does not encounter a bone."

"Exactly, doctor; so long as it does not encounter a bone," said Murray drily.

"That's where the trouble begins, sir," said the doctor, smacking his lips and making the two middies exchange glances. "You see, you get a complicated fracture of the bone with tiny fragments that refuse to show where they are commencing irritation and that sort of thing."

"Yes, doctor," said Murray drily; "but aren't we getting into an uncomfortable discussion?"

"No, sir, a most interesting one; but when I spoke it was not all about injured bones or ordinary shot-holes or cuts; I was saying how glad I was to be out of that river and mangrove swamp where your West Coast fever haunts the low lands, and miasmatic emanations are always ready to pounce upon people and set up tasks for the hardest-worked man in the ship."

"To do what, doctor?" said Roberts.

"I thought I spoke very plainly, young gentleman; I said set up tasks for the hardest-worked man in the ship."

"But that sounds as if you—that is to say—I—I—You don't mean yourself, sir?" said Roberts, in a stammering, half-confused way.

"Not mean myself, sir?" said the doctor angrily. "Why, who else could I mean?"

"That's what puzzled me, sir," said Roberts, staring. "Frank Murray and I have always thought—"

"Here, I say," cried Murray, laughing and enjoying the verbal engagement that had sprung up like a squall in the tropics, "don't you begin dragging me into the discussion."

"Exactly! Certainly not," cried the doctor hotly. "If there is any need for it I can tackle Master Murray afterwards. I am dealing with you, sir. You gave me to understand that you did not consider I was the most hard-worked man in the ship."

"Very well then," cried Roberts warmly, "if you will have it that way, I don't."

"Oh! Indeed!" said the doctor angrily. "Then what about the last few days, when I am suddenly brought face to face with a score of wounded men, and with no one to help me but a surgeon's mate or dresser who is as stupid as men are made?"

"Wounded, sir?" said Roberts.

"Yes, sir, wounded. Burned, if you like it better. Singed and scorched. It all comes under the broad term of casualties, does it not?"

"I suppose so, sir," said Roberts sulkily.

"Better tell me that my services were not called for, and that you could all have done without me. I call what I have gone through hard work, and tell you, sir, that it was a time of great anxiety."

"So it must have been, doctor," put in Murray, "and I feel very grateful for the way you did away with my pain."

"There's a sneak!" cried Roberts angrily. "Who began to bully me for dragging him into the discussion?"

"You are the sneak, sir," said the doctor, "for trying to dodge out of the matter like this. Murray spoke out like a man."

"Boy," growled Roberts.

"Very well, sir; like a grateful boy, if that pleases you better. Like one who appreciates my service and is not ready to turn up his nose at what such fellows as you call 'doctor's stuff,' just as if a medical man or a surgeon thought of nothing but wasting the ship's stores upon those who are glad enough to come to them when they are out of sorts, and most often from their neglect of common sense precautions, or from over indulgence in the good things of life."

"Precious lot of chances we get to indulge in the good things of life on board ship!" said Roberts bitterly.

"Let me tell you, sir," said the doctor, shaking his finger at the midshipman, "that there is nothing better for a growing lad than the strict discipline and the enforced temperance and moderate living of shipboard. Better for you, though, if you had not so much idleness."

"Idleness, sir!" cried the lad.

"Yes, sir. You want more work. Ah! You may sneer. Perhaps not quite so much as I have to do, but more than you get. Yes, sir, when you know better you will learn to see that the doctor's life is a very arduous one."

"But you get lots of time, sir, for natural history and fishing and shooting."

"Not 'lots of time,' sir, as you term it, but some time certainly; and what is that but work in the cause of science? And look here, Mr Roberts, whenever I do get an opportunity for going ashore shooting or botanising, or have a boat out for fishing or dredging, do I not invariably enlist the services of you or Mr Murray?"

"Hear, hear!" cried the latter, in the most parliamentary way.

"Thank you, Mr Murray," said the doctor. "I shall not forget this."

"Don't you believe him, doctor," cried Roberts. "He doesn't mean it. He's only currying favour."

"Nothing of the kind, sir," said the doctor sharply. "I flatter myself that I understand Mr Murray better than you do, sir. I understand his temperament quite as well as I do yours, sir, which is atrabilious."

"Eh?" exclaimed Roberts. "What's that, sir?"

"Black bilious, sir, if you really don't know. I have studied your temperament, sir, and let me tell you that you would be doing very wisely if you came to me this evening for a little treatment."

"But I've only just got out of your hands, sir," cried the midshipman, in a voice full of protest.

"That was for the superficial trouble, sir, due to the scorching and singeing. Now it is plain to me that what you went through in that attack upon the blacks' town has stirred up the secretions of your liver."

"Oh, doctor, that it hasn't!" cried the lad. "And I'm sure that I want no physicking."

"I think I know best, sir. If you were in robust health there would be none of that display of irritability of temper that you evince. You as his messmate must have noticed this irritability, Mr Murray?"

"Constantly, sir," said that individual solemnly. "Oh you!" growled Roberts fiercely. "Just you wait!"

"There!" cried the doctor triumphantly. "You are proving the truth of my diagnosis, Mr Roberts. Come to me before night, and I will give you what you require. There, you have given me ample reason for strongly resenting your language, Mr Roberts, but now I fully realise the cause I shall pass it over. You require my services, sir, and that is enough."

"I don't require them, sir," cried the lad, boiling over with passion now. "I was hurt a good deal over the expedition, but now that's better; there's nothing whatever the matter with me; and you are taking advantage of your position and are about to force me to swallow a lot of your horrid stuff. I won't, though; see if I do!"

"You see, Mr Murray," said the doctor, smiling in a way which irritated one of his hearers almost beyond bearing, "he is proving all I have said to the full. There, be calm, Roberts, my dear boy; we have left the horrible river and coast behind, and a few days out upon the broad ocean will with my help soon clear away the unpleasant symptoms from which you have been suffering, and—"

"Not interfering, am I, doctor?" said a voice which made the two lads start round.

"Not in the least, Anderson; not in the least. Mr Roberts here is a trifle the worse for our run up that muddy river, but I shall soon put that right with our trip through the healthier portions of our globe."

"Through the healthier portions of the globe, doctor!" said the chief officer. "Why, what do you mean?"

"Mean? Only that the West Coast of Africa is about as horrible a station as unhappy man could be placed in by the powers that be, while now we are going where—"

"Why, doctor, you don't mean to say that you do not understand where we are going?"

"I mean to say I do know, sir—away from the swampy exhalations and black fevers of the horrible district where we have been cruising, and out upon the high seas."

"Yes, to cross them, doctor," said the lieutenant drily. "We are going to leave the black fevers behind, but in all probability to encounter the yellow."

"What!" cried the doctor. "I did not understand—"

"What the captain said? Well, I did, sir. The skipper has only just now been vowing to me that he will never rest until he has run down that slaver."

"Ah! Yes, I understand that," said the doctor. "Then that means—?"

"A long stern chase through the West Indian Islands, and perhaps in and out and along the coasts of the Southern American States—wherever, in fact, the plantations are worked by slaves whose supplies are kept up by traders such as the scoundrel who cheated us into a run up that river where his schooner was lying. Why, doctor, it seems to me that we are only going out of the frying-pan into the fire."

"Dear me, yes," said the doctor. "You are quite right. Then under these circumstances, Mr Roberts," he continued, turning sharply round upon the midshipman, "the sooner you commence your treatment the better."

"But really, sir," began Roberts, who looked so taken aback that his messmate had hard work to contain himself and master the outburst of laughter that was ready to explode.

"Don't argue, Mr Roberts," said the doctor importantly. "I do not know how you find him in your dealings, Anderson," he continued, "but as a patient I must say that of all the argumentative, self-willed young men I ever encountered Mr Roberts carries off the palm."

"Yes, he has a will of his own, my dear doctor," said the lieutenant, giving the middy a meaning glance, "but you must take him in hand. I prescribe my way; when you take him in hand next you must prescribe yours."

"I intend so doing," said the doctor, and he walked aft with the chief officer.

This was Frank Murray's opportunity, and hurrying to the side, he leaned his arms upon the bulwarks and laughed till his sides ached before his companion fully realised the fact, his attention having been taken up by the pair who were going towards where the captain was slowly pacing the deck with his hands behind him.

"Oh, grinning at it all, are you?" said Roberts now. "It's very funny, isn't it! An abominable, pragmatical, self-satisfied ass, that's what he is; and are we almost grown-up men to be handed over to be treated just as he pleases? No; I'll resign the service first. Yes, laugh away, my fine fellow! You see if I don't pay you out for this! Oh, go it! But you see if I take any of his beastly old stuff!"



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

"COLD PISON."

Roberts kept his word that same evening, for just as the darkness was setting in and the two lads had walked forward to lean over the side and gaze down at the unruffled transparent sea and wonder which were reflections of the golden glory of the stars and which were the untold myriads of phosphorescent creatures that, as far down as eye could penetrate, spangled the limpid sea, the lad suddenly gave his companion a nudge with his elbow.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Murray.

"Look here, and I'll show you."

"Well, I'm looking; but it's too dark to see what you are fumbling over."

"How stupid! What a blind old bat you are! Well, it's a piece of plum duff."

"Why, you're like a school-boy," said Murray.

"Oh no, I'm not."

"You may say oh no you're not, but fancy me saving up a bit of cold pudding from dinner and bringing it out of my jacket pocket to eat!"

"Ah, but you have no reason for doing it. I have."

"What, are you going to use it as a bait?"

"That's it, my son; but I'm not going to use hook or line."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"Throw it over for one of the sharks we saw cruising about before sundown."

"But what for? You don't want to pet sharks with cold pudding."

"No. Guess again."

"Stuff! Speak out."

"Poison—cold pison."

"What! Why, you would never see the brute that took it turn up in the darkness."

"Don't want to, my son," said the lad solemnly.

"Look here, Dick, it's too hot, to-night, and I'm too tired and sleepy to try and puzzle out your conundrums, so if you want me to understand what you're about you had better speak out. What a rum chap you are!"

"I am."

"One hour you're all a fellow could wish; the next you are red-hot to quarrel. See how you were this afternoon when the doctor was talking to you."

"Ah! I was out of temper then, but now I feel so happy that a child might play with me."

"Glad to hear it, but I don't want to be child-like, and I don't want to play."

"Perhaps not, but you'll be interested."

"Fire away, then. What has made you so happy?"

"I had an idea."

"Well, look sharp, or I shall fall asleep with my head resting on my arms."

"Well, I'll tell you," said Roberts. "You see that solid lump of pudding?"

"I told you before I can't see it."

"Feel it then."

"No, I'll be hanged if I do! Why should I feel a nasty piece of cold pudding?"

"Don't be so jolly particular; it's quite dry."

"Look here, Dick, are you going off your head?"

"I thought I was when the idea came, for it set me laughing so that I could not stop myself."

"Come, tell me what it all means, or I shall go below to my berth. What is there in all this?"

"Poison, I tell you."

"Yes, you told me before; but what does it mean?"

"You see that lump of pudding; well, there's poison in it."

"Dick Roberts, I'm hot and easily aggravated. If you go on like this I shall be as quarrelsome as you were this afternoon."

"Well, there, it was all my idea that I had this afternoon. I got that lump of pudding from the cook, took it down to my berth, pulled out my knife, put the box on the side of the pudding, and cut out a piece exactly the size of the box."

"Wh-a-a-t! You mean you cut a piece out of the box just the size of the pudding?"

"No, I don't, my son. You don't understand yet. Can't you see I'm talking about a pill-box?"

"Oh-h-h!"

"Now don't you see? I cut a hole in the pudding and slipped the box in, and then made a stopper of the pudding I had cut out, and corked up the hole with the box inside."

"I begin to see now," said Murray. "A pill-box full of poison to kill the shark that swallows the poison."

"I don't care whether it kills the fish or no as long as I get rid of the stuff."

"Now you are getting confused again. Why should you try to poison a shark like this? What good would it do—what difference would one shark make out of the thousands which infest the sea?"

"Oh, Franky, what a Dummkopf you are, as the Germans say!"

"Don't care what the Germans say, and I dare say I am a stupid-head, for I can't make out what you are driving at."

"You can't? Why, I'm going to make the shark take the poison instead of taking it myself."

"But what poison?"

"Old Reston's: the two blue pills. Then I shall pitch the bottle of horrible draught overboard. I don't care what becomes of that so long as it sinks to the bottom."

"Oh, I see plainly enough now," said Murray.

"And pretty well time, my boy! Wasn't it a capital idea?"

"No," said Murray bluntly. "Stupid, I say."

"Not it, old chap. Don't you see that it is liver medicine?"

"I suppose so."

"Well, sharks have livers. They fish for them in the Mediterranean, take out the livers, and boil them down to sell for cod liver oil."

"Then that's a lie," said Murray. "Perhaps it's being a lie made you think of it."

"Why?"

"Because you'll have to tell the doctor a lie when he asks you if you took the medicine."

"But he won't ask."

"He will, for certain."

"How do you know? Did he ever ask you?"

"Well, no," said Murray thoughtfully; "I can't say that he did. He never gave me any, only touched me up a bit when I was hurt."

"Then don't you be so jolly knowing, my fine fellow," cried Roberts. "You can't tell if he hasn't doctored you, and I'm quite sure about it, for I know well from nasty experience of his ways that he will not bother one with questions as you think. He gives the fellows physic to take, and just asks them next day how they feel."

"Well, that's what I say," cried Murray triumphantly. "Isn't that just the same?"

"No, not a bit of it. He just asks them how they feel next day; that's all. He takes it for granted that they have swallowed his boluses and draughts. He'll ask me to-morrow how I feel, and I shall tell him I am all right."

"You'll tell him a lie then. Very honourable, upon my word!"

"Here's a pretty how-de-do, Mr Ultra-particular, with your bully bounce about telling a lie! I shan't do anything of the kind. I shall tell him I'm all right because I am quite well, thank you. Bother him and his horrible old stuff! I know I should be pretty mouldy and out of sorts if I took it. Let him ask the shark how he feels, if he gets the chance, for here it goes. Pudding first, which means pills—there!"

A faint splash followed a movement on the part of the midshipman, and Murray saw the calm sea agitated, and faint flashes of phosphorescent light appear, while directly after it was as if something made a rush; the depths grew ablaze with pale lambent cold fire, and Roberts gave vent to an ejaculation expressive of his delight.

"A shark for a shilling," he cried, "and a big one too. You see if he doesn't hang about the sloop and show himself in the morning, turning up his eyes on the lookout for whoever it was that tried to poison him."

"Turning up his eyes!" said Murray. "Nonsense! If it was as you say the shark would be turning up its white underparts and floating wrong way up."

"Maybe; but hold hard a minute; it's rather soon to exhibit the other dose, as old Reston calls it. I'm not going to make an exhibition of myself, though, this time, so here goes. You see if Jack Shark doesn't go for the bottle as soon as I throw it overboard. Here goes!" Splash!

"How stupid!" said Roberts. "I ought to have drawn the cork."

"Oh no," said Murray, laughing. "I don't suppose the directions said, to be taken in water."

"Um—no. But what's to be done? Look; he's got it."

For as the descent of the bottle Roberts had thrown in could be traced by the way in which the tiny phosphorescent creatures were disturbed, lower and lower through the deep water, there was another vivid flash made by some big fish as it gave a tremendous flourish with its tail, and the midshipman rubbed his hands with delight.

"He's got it, I'm sure," he cried. "But what's to be done? No use to pitch in a corkscrew."

"Not a bit, Dick," replied Murray cheerily.

"What a pity! I ought to have known better. He's got it, but the glass will stop the draught from having the proper effect."

"Oh no; perhaps not," said Murray, laughing. "I've read that sharks have wonderful digestions."

"Well, let's hope this one has. I shall like to look out for him to-morrow watching for the doctor, as he squints up from the wake of the sloop."

"More likely to be looking up for you, old fellow. The doctor didn't throw the bottle in."

"Oh, well, never mind that. I don't suppose the horrible beast knows the difference. I've got rid of the stuff, anyhow; that's all I care about; and nobody knows but you."

"Beg pardon, gentlemen," said a voice out of the darkness; "was you a-chucking anything overboard?"

There was a short time of silence, for Murray waited so as to give his messmate a chance to answer the question; but as the latter made no reply he took the duty upon himself.

"That you, Tom May?" he asked.

"Ay, ay, sir. Somebody chucked somethin' overboard twiced, and I was wondering whether it was you gents."

"Why?" said Roberts shortly. "Couldn't it have been one of the watch?"

"No, sir; they're aft, or t'other side of the ship."

"Well, it was, Tom."

"Oh, all right, sir. You'll 'scuse me asking? I only did 'cause the skipper's very partickler since one of the lads got making away with some of the ship's stores, and there's no knowing what mischief the boys might be up to. Then, o' course, sir, there's nothing for me to report to the officer of the watch?"

"No: nothing at all, Tom. Haven't got anything more to throw in, have you, Murray?"

"Not so much as a single pill," said Murray drily.

"Eh? No, of course not. The water's so still and clear, Tom," continued the middy hurriedly, "you can see the fish dash after anything, making the sea flash quite deep down."

"Oh yes, sir, I've seen that. It's the sharks, sir; there's often one hanging about right below the keel on the lookout for anything that may be chucked overboard. I believe, sir, as they've got sense enough to know that they may have a bit o' luck and have a chance at an onlucky chap as slips overboard or gets tempted into having a bathe. Wonderful cunning critters, sir, is sharks. I'm always glad when there's a hook with a bit o' pork trailed overboard and one's hauled aboard and cut up to see what he's got inside."

"What!" said Roberts excitedly. "Ripped up to see what's inside?"

"Yes, sir. Don't you remember that one we caught 'bout a month ago? Oh no, of course not. You was ashore with the skipper's gig at Seery Leony. That there was a whopper, sir, and he did lay about with his tail, till the cook had it off with a lucky chop of his meat axe. That quieted the beggar a bit, and give him a chance to open Mr Jack Shark up and see what he'd had for dinner lately."

"And did you find anything, Tom?" asked Roberts.

"Find anything, sir!" replied the man. "I should just think we did! I mean, the lads did, sir; I warn't going to mess myself up with the bloodthirsty varmint."

"Of course not," said Murray mischievously; "but what did they find? Anything bad?—Physic bottle, for instance? Bother! What are you doing, Roberts?" For his companion gave him a savage dig in the dark with his elbow. "Oh, nothing!"

"Physic bottle, sir?" continued the sailor wonderingly. "Not as I know on. More likely to ha' been an empty rum bottle. Wouldn't ha' been a full un," added the man, chuckling. "But I tell you what they did find, sir, and that was 'bout half-a-dozen o' them round brass wire rings as the black women wears on their arms and legs."

"Ugh!" ejaculated Roberts, with a shudder. "How horrible!"

"Yes, sir; that seemed to tell tales like. Looked as if Jack had ketched some poor black women swimming at the mouth o' one of the rivers as runs down into the sea."

"Possibly," said Murray.

"Yes, sir; that's it. I did hear once of a shark being caught with a jack knife inside him. It warn't no good, being all rusted up; but a jack knife it was, all the same, with a loop at the end o' the haft where some poor chap had got it hung round him by a lanyard—some poor lad who had fell overboard, and the shark had been waiting for him. You see, sir, such things as brass rings and jack knives wouldn't 'gest like, as the doctor calls it."

"No; suppose not," said Murray, who added, after drawing back a little out of the reach of Roberts's elbow, "and a bottle of physic would not digest either."

"Not it, sir," replied the man, "onless it got broken, or the cork come out."

"Er-r-r!" growled Roberts, in quite a menacing tone.

"He wouldn't like it, o' course, sir," said the man, speaking as if he were playing into the midshipman's hand and chuckling the while. "Doctors' stuff arn't pleasant to take for human sailors, and I don't s'pose it would 'gree with sharks. I've been thinking, though, that I should like to shy a bottle o' rum overboard, corked up, say, with a bit o' the cook's duff. That would 'gest, and then he'd get the rum. Think it would kill him, sir?"

"No, I don't," said Murray. "Ask Mr Roberts what he thinks. He's very clever over such things as that; eh, Roberts?"

"Oh, stuff!" cried the middy. "Nonsense!"

"You might tell him what you think, though," said Murray. "You know how fond you are of making experiments."

"Do talk sense," cried the lad petulantly. "Look here, May, I think it would be a great waste of useful stores to do such a thing."

"Yes, sir; so do I," said the man; "and that's talking sense, and no mistake. Beg pardon, gentlemen, but what do you think of the skipper's ideas?"

"What about?" asked Murray sharply. "We don't canvass what our officers plan to do."

"Don't know about canvassing them, sir," said the man, "but I meant no harm, only we've been talking it over a deal in the forc'sle, and we should like to know whether the captain means to give up trying after the slave skipper."

"No, certainly not."

"That's right, sir," said the man eagerly. "Glad on it. But it's got about that we was sailing away from the coast here, which is such a likely spot for dropping upon him."

"Well, I don't mind answering you about that, Tom. Mind, I don't want my name to be given as an authority, but I believe that Captain Kingsberry means to cross to the western shores and search every likely port for that schooner, and what is more, to search until he finds where she is."

"Hah!" ejaculated the sailor. "If the skipper has said that, sir, he has spoken out like a man. Hooroar! We shall do it, then, at last. But I dunno, though, sir," added the man thoughtfully.

"Don't know what?" asked Murray.

"Oh, nothing, sir."

"Bother! Don't talk like that," cried Murray. "Nothing is more aggravating than beginning to say something and then chopping it off in that way. Speak out and say what you mean."

"'Tain't no good, sir," said the man sulkily.

"No good?"

"No, sir. Why, if I was to say what I'd got inside my head you'd either begin to bullyrag me—"

"Nonsense, May! I'm sure I never do."

"Well, then, sir, call me a hidjit, and say it was all sooperstition."

"Well, that's likely enough," said Murray. "You sailors are full of old women's tales."

"Mebbe, sir," said the man, shaking his head slowly; "but old women is old, and the elders do grow wise."

"Sometimes, Tom," said Murray, laughing, "and a wise old woman is worth listening to; but you can't say that for a man who talks like a foolish old woman and believes in all kinds of superstitious nonsense."

"No, sir: of course not, sir," said the man solemnly; "but there is things, you know."

"Oh yes, I do know that, Tom—such as setting sail with a black cat on board."

"Oh, well, sir, come!" protested the sailor warmly. "You can't say as a man's a hidjit for believing that. Something always happens if you do that."

"I could say so, Tom," replied the middy, "but I'm not going to."

"Well, sir, begging your pardon as gentleman, I'm werry sorry for it; but there, you're very young."

"Go on, Tom."

"That's all, sir. I warn't going to say no more."

"But you are thinking a deal more. That was as good as saying that I'm very young and don't know any better."

"Oh, I didn't go so far as to think that, sir, because you're a hofficer and a gentleman, and a scholar who has larnt more things than I ever heerd of; but still, sir, I dessay you won't mind owning as a fellow as has been at sea from fourteen to four-and-thirty has picked up things such as you couldn't larn at school."

"Black cats, for instance, Tom?"

"Yes, sir. Ah, you may laugh to yourself, but there's more than you think of about a black cat."

"A black skin, for instance, Tom, and if the poor brute was killed and skinned he'd look exactly like a white cat or a tortoise-shell."

"Oh, that's his skin, sir; it's his nature."

"Pooh! What can there be in a black cat's nature?"

"Don't know; that's the mystery on it."

"Can't you explain what the mystery is?"

"No, sir, and I never met a shipmate as could."

"Bother the cat! It's all rubbish, Tom."

"Yes, sir, and it bothers the man; but there it is, all the same. You ask any sailor chap, and—"

"Yes, I know, Tom; and he'll talk just as much nonsense as you."

"P'raps so, sir, but something bad allus happens to a ship as has a black cat aboard."

"And something always happens to a ship that has any cat on board. And what is more, something always happens to a ship that has no cat at all on board. Look at our Seafowl, for instance."

"Yes, sir, you may well say that," said the man sadly. "The chaps have talked about it a deal, and we all says as she's an unfortnit ship."

"Oh, you all think so, do you, Tom?"

"Yes, sir, we do," said the man solemnly.

"Then you may depend upon it, Tom, that there's a black cat hidden away somewhere in the hold."

"Ah! Come aboard, sir, in port, after the rats? That would account for it, sir, and 'splain it all," cried the man eagerly. "You think that's it, do you, sir?"

"No, I don't, Tom; I'm laughing at you for being such an old woman. I did give you the credit of having more sense. I'm ashamed of you."

"Thankye, sir," said the man sadly.

"You are quite welcome, Tom," said Murray, laughing; "but I suppose you can't help all these weak beliefs."

"No, sir, we can't help it, some of us," said the man simply; "it all comes of being at sea."

"There being so much salt in the water, perhaps," said Murray.

"Mebbe, sir; but I don't see what the salt could have to do with it."

"Neither do I, Tom, and if I didn't know what a good fellow you are, and what a brave sailor, I should be ready to tell you a good deal more than I shall."

"Go on, sir; I don't mind, sir. I know you mean well."

"But look here; I'm sorry to hear that your messmates think the Seafowl is an unfortunate craft. But not all, I hope?"

"Yes, sir; we all think so."

"That's worse still, Tom. But you don't mean to forsake her—desert—I hope?"

"Forsake her—desert? Not me! She's unlucky, sir, and no one can't help it. Bad luck comes to every one sometimes, same as good luck does, sir. We takes it all, sir, just as it comes, just as we did over the landing t'other day—Titely was the unlucky one then, and got a spear through his shoulder, while though lots of their pretty weapons come flying about us no one else was touched; on'y got a bit singed. He took it like a man, sir."

"That he did, Tom. It was most plucky of him, for he was a good deal hurt."

"Yes, sir—deal more than you young gents thought for. But no, sir: forsake or desert our ship? Not we! She's a good, well-found craft, sir, with a fine crew and fine officers. They ain't puffick, sir; but they might be a deal worse. I'm satisfied, sir."

"I believe you, Tom," said Murray, laughing, "and there is no black cat on board, for if there were some one must have seen her or him before now, and it wouldn't have made a bit of difference."



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

OVERHAULING A STRANGER.

It was the very next morning just at daybreak that the lookout on the fore-top hailed the deck with the inspiriting cry that sent a thrill through all who heard, and brought the officer of the watch forward with his glass.

"Sail ho!"

A short inspection sufficed, and the news hurried the captain and Mr Anderson on deck.

"A schooner. The same rig!" exclaimed the captain, without taking his glass from his eye. "What do you make of her, Mr Anderson?"

"A schooner, sure enough, sir. The same heavy raking spars and spread of sails. It looks too good to be true, sir."

"Hah! Then you think it is the same craft?"

"Yes,—no—I daren't say, sir," replied the lieutenant; "but if it is not it's a twin vessel."

"Yes," said the captain, closing his glass with a snap. "We'll say it's the Yankee slaver, and keep to that till she proves to be something else."

Holding to that belief, every stitch of canvas that could be crowded on was sent aloft, and a pleasant breeze beginning to dimple the water as the sun arose, the spirits of all on board the sloop rose as well. Soon, however, it began to be perfectly plain that the schooner sighted paid no heed whatever to the sloop of war, but kept on her course, sailing in a way that proved her to be unusually fast and able to hold her own so well that the spirits of those on the Seafowl began to sink again.

"Now we shall see what she's made of, Dick," said Murray excitedly, when a blank charge was fired.

"Made of impudence," said Roberts quietly; "but there's no doubt about her being the craft we want," he continued, "for she means to set us at defiance, and she's going to make a run for it, and you see if she doesn't escape."

"If she does," cried Murray impetuously, "I shall say it's a shame for the Government to send the captain out with such a crawler as the Seafowl. Why, for such a duty we ought to have the fastest sailer that could be built and rigged."

Directly after, there was another gun fired from the sloop, and the course of the shot sent skipping over the sea could be traced till it sank to rise no more, after passing right across the schooner's bows.

The men cheered, for in answer to this threat of what the sloop would do with her next gun, the schooner was seen to glide slowly round into the wind, her great sails began to flap, when in quick time, one of the cutters was manned, with the second lieutenant in command of the well-armed crew.

Roberts had been ordered to take his place in the stern sheets, and as he descended the rope he darted a look of triumph at Murray, whose face was glum with disappointment as he turned away; and as luck had it he encountered Mr Anderson's eyes.

"Want to go, Mr Murray?" he said, smiling.

"Yes, sir, horribly," was the reply.

"Off with you, then. Be smart!"

The next minute the lad had slipped down by the stern falls to where the officer in command made room for him; the hooks were cast off, the oars dipped, and the stout ash blades were soon quivering as the men bent to their work with their short, sharp, chopping stroke which sent the boat rapidly over the waves.

"I don't see the Yankee captain," said Mr Munday, searching the side of the vessel, which was now flying English colours.

"You think that fellow with the lugger was the captain?" asked Murray.

"Not a doubt of it," was the reply. "I wonder what he'll have the impudence to say."

"He'll sing a different song, sir," said Roberts, "if he is on board."

"If? Why, of course he'll be on board; eh, Murray?"

"Most likely, sir; but won't he be playing fox in some fresh way? He may be in hiding."

"If he is he'll come out when he finds a prize crew on board, and that his schooner is on its way to Capecoast Castle or the Cape. But I don't see him, nor any of the sharp-looking fellows who formed his lugger's crew."

"No, sir," said Murray, who was standing up shading his eyes with his hand. "I hope—"

The middy stopped short.

"Well, go on, sir," cried the lieutenant—"hope what?"

"That we are not making a mistake."

"Oh, impossible! There can't be two of such schooners."

"But we only had a glimpse of the other, sir, as she sailed down the river half hidden by the trees," said Murray.

"Look here, Mr Murray, if you can't speak sensibly you'd better hold your tongue," said the lieutenant angrily. "The captain and Mr Anderson are not likely to make a mistake. Everybody on board was of opinion that this is the same vessel."

"Then I've made a mistake, sir," said the midshipman. "But that can't be the skipper, sir," and he drew attention to a short, stoutish, sun-browned man who was looking over the side.

"Of course it is not, sir. Some English-looking fellow picked to throw us off our guard."

But the officer in charge began to look uneasy as he scanned the vessel they were rapidly nearing, till the cutter was rowed alongside, several of the crew now plainly showing themselves and looking uncommonly like ordinary merchant sailors as they leaned over the bulwarks.

Directly after the coxswain hooked on, and the lieutenant, followed by two middies and four of the well-armed sailors sprang on board, to be greeted with a gruff—

"Morning. What does this here mean?"

"Why didn't you heave to, sir?" cried the lieutenant sharply.

"'Cause I was below, asleep," said the sturdy-looking skipper. "Are you the captain of that brig?"

"No, sir. What vessel's this?"

"Because," said the skipper, ignoring the question, "you'd better tell your captain to be careful. He might have done us some mischief. Any one would think you took me for a pirate."

The lieutenant made no reply for a minute or two, being, like his two young companions, eagerly scanning the rather slovenly deck and the faces of the small crew, who were looking at their invaders apparently with wonder.

"Never mind what we took you for," said the lieutenant sharply, and in a tone of voice which to Murray suggested doubt. "Answer me at once. What schooner's this?"

"Don't be waxy, sir," said the skipper, smiling good-humouredly. "That's reg'lar English fashion—knock a fellow over, and then say, Where are you shoving to! What's yours?"

"H.M.S. Seafowl," said the lieutenant haughtily. "Now then, will you answer?"

"Of course I will, Mr Lieutenant. This here is the schooner Laura Lee, of Bristol. Trading in sundries, machinery and oddments, loaded out at Kingston, Jamaica, and now for the West Coast to take in palm oil. Afterwards homeward bound. How does that suit you?"

Roberts and Murray exchanged glances, and then noted that the men were doing the same.

"Your papers, sir," said the lieutenant.

"Papers?" said the skipper. "All right, sir; but you might put it a little more civil."

"I am doing my duty, sir," said the lieutenant sternly.

"All right, sir, all right; but don't snap a man's head off. You shall see my papers. They're all square. Like to take anything? I've got a fine bottle or two of real Jamaica below."

"No, sir; no, sir," said the lieutenant sternly. "Business if you please."

"Of course, sir. Come along to my cabin."

"Lead on, then."

The skipper took a few steps aft, and Roberts followed his officer, a couple of the sailors closing in behind, while two others with Murray kept the deck in naval fashion, though there seemed to be not the slightest need, for the schooner's men hung about staring hard or leaned over the side looking at the men in the cutter.

"Here, I say," said the skipper sharply, "I should have thought you could have seen plain enough that what I said was quite right. What do you take me for? Oh, I see, I see; your skipper's got it in his head that I'm trading in bad spirits with the friendly niggers on the coast yonder; but I ain't. There, I s'pose, though, you won't take my word, and you've got to report to your skipper when you go back aboard."

"If I do go back to report, sir," said the lieutenant.

"If you do go back, sir? Oh, that's it, is it? You mean if you take my schooner for a prize."

"Perhaps so, sir. Now then, if you please, your papers."

The skipper nodded and smiled.

"All right," he said; "I won't turn rusty. I s'pose it's your duty."

The papers were examined, and, to the officer's disappointment, proved the truth of the skipper's story.

"Now, if you please, we'll have a look below, sir," said the lieutenant.

"Very good," said the skipper; and he hailed his men to open the hatches. "You won't find any rum puncheons, captain," he said.

"I do not expect to, sir; but I must be sure about your fittings below. This schooner has not been heavily rigged like this for nothing."

"Course she arn't, sir. I take it that she was rigged under my eyes on purpose to be a smart sailer worked by a smart crew. But my fittings? Here, I've got it at last: you're one of the Navy ships on the station to put down the slave-trade."

"Yes," said the lieutenant shortly.

"Then good luck to you, sir! Hoist off those hatches my lad; the officer thinks we're fitted up below for the blackbird trade. No, no, no, sir. There, send your men below, or go yourself, and I'll come with you. You've got the wrong pig by the ear this time, and you ought to be off the coast river yonder where they pick up their cargoes. No, sir, I don't do that trade."

The lieutenant was soon thoroughly satisfied that a mistake had been made, and directly after, to his satisfaction, the skipper asked whether the captain would favour him with a small supply of medicine for his crew.

"I'm about run out of quinine stuff," he said. "Some of my chaps had a touch or two of fever, and we're going amongst it again. It would be an act of kindness, sir, and make up for what has been rather rough treatment."

"You'd better come on board with me, and I've no doubt that the captain will see that you have what is necessary; and he will be as apologetic as I am now for what has been an unpleasant duty."

"Oh, come, if you put it like that, squire, there's no need to say any more. To be sure, yes, I'll come aboard with you. I say; took many slavers?"

"No; not one."

"That's a pity. Always search well along the river mouths?"

"Yes."

"Hah! They're about too much for you. Now, if I was on that business, say I was on the lookout for these gentlemen, I shouldn't do it here."

"Where, then?" said the lieutenant eagerly.

"Well, I'll tell you. As I said, they're a bit too cunning for you. Of course you can sail up the rivers and blow the black chiefs' huts to pieces. Them, I mean, who catch the niggers and sell 'em or swap 'em to the slave skippers; but that don't do much good, for slavers slip off in the dark, and know the coast better than you do."

"Yes. Well, what would you do?" said the lieutenant eagerly.

"Do? Why, I'd go across to the plantations, sir, and lay wait for them there. They wouldn't be half so much on the lookout."

"There's a good deal in what you say, sir," said the lieutenant thoughtfully. "But where would you watch—round Jamaica?"

"Nay-y-y!" cried the skipper. "I'd study up my charts pretty thoroughly, and then cruise about those little islands that lie nigh the Cays. There's plenty of likely places where these folk land their cargoes; and you'd find them easier to work than the West Coast, where there's a wilderness of mangrove creeks and big and little rivers where a slaving schooner can lie up and hide. You go west and try. Why, I could give your captain half-a-dozen plantations where it would pay him to go—places where I've seen often enough craft about the build of mine here."

"Indeed!" cried the lieutenant.

"Yes, sir," said the skipper thoughtfully. "Why, of course; I never saw before how likely you were to take me for one of 'em. Well, you want to go, so I'll have one of my boats lowered down and come over to your brig. I'll ask your skipper for a bit of quinine, and then if he'll lay out his charts before me, I'll put his finger upon three or four likely spots where the slavers trade, and if he don't capture two or three of their fast boats loaded with the black fellows they've run across, why, it won't be my fault. I should like to see the whole lot sunk, and the skippers and crews with them. Don't sound Christian like o' me, but they deserve it. For I've seen them landing their cargoes. Ugh! It has been sickening, and they're not men."

The skipper's words were broken in upon by the report of a gun from the Seafowl, whose commander had grown impatient from the long delay of the boat; and hence the imperious recall.

Captain Kingsberry's countenance did not look calm and peaceful when the boat returned, but the clouds cleared away when the skipper came on board and a long conversation had taken place over the charts of the West Indian Islands and the Caribbean Sea.

"Quinine, captain?" he exclaimed at last. "My good sir, you may have all the medicine—well, nearly—that I have on board!"

"Thankye, sir," said the bluff skipper, laughing. "Enough's as good as a feast of that stuff."

"And I'm very sorry," said the captain politely, "that I had to overhaul your schooner."

"I arn't," said the skipper. "I'm very glad, and thankful too for the physic stuff. Fever's a nasty thing, sir, and as I said, I'm very glad. Good luck to you, sir, and good-bye."

"There's no doubt this time, Mr Anderson," said the captain, as soon as the skipper had gone over the side, "that man's as honest as the day."

"That he is, sir, and so is his schooner."

"Yes, Mr Anderson. Now, then, let's go back to those charts, and we'll then make right for the plantations. I begin to think that we shall do some business now."



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

RATHER FISHY.

"What!" said the first lieutenant sharply. "Now, look here, Mr Roberts—and you too, Mr Murray, for you are just as bad. You both give yourselves airs, and though you say nothing you are always showing off, trying to impress the men with the idea that you are men grown."

"I beg your pardon, sir—" began Roberts.

"Now, don't deny it, sir. I know it for a fact. Do you think that I can't read you through and through—you in particular, Mr Roberts, for you are far the worst. Not that you have much to boast about, Mr Murray."

"I am very sorry, sir," said the latter. "No, you are not, sir," said the chief officer abruptly. "Let's have deeds, not words. If you were really sorry that you had been playing the imitative monkey you would pitch the antics overboard."

"Antics, sir?" cried Roberts. "Yes, sir—antics. I said antics," cried the officer sharply, "so don't repeat my words and force me to do the same. A boy's a boy, sir, and a man's a man. A good boy is a rarity on shipboard, but very valuable when you get him; and a good man—a really good man at sea is worth his weight in gold; but I detest a hobbledehoy who apes the man, and I generally look upon him as worthless. Don't grunt, Mr Roberts. It's disrespectful to your superior officer. You might very well follow the example of Mr Murray, who never resents reproof when he deserves it. There, you need not make that disparaging grimace. You might follow Mr Murray's example in a good many things. Now, I am sure he would not have come and asked leave like you did. It must have been your idea alone."

"I'm afraid I had as much to do with it as Roberts, sir," said Murray frankly.

"More shame for you to have to own it, sir," said the first lieutenant; "but I like you to own up all the same. Still, I don't like two young fellows who are trying to impress their elders that they are men to be seizing every opportunity to prove that they are mere boys with all the instincts wide awake of children."

"I'm very sorry, sir," said Roberts again, this time very stiffly. "I am sorry I asked for permission."

"I don't believe you, Mr Roberts," said the officer stiffly. "Now, both of you tell me this—are you perfectly efficient in your navigation?"

Roberts uttered a snort.

"No, sir," said Murray, "of course not. I'm a long way off being perfect."

"Then why in the name of common sense don't you seize upon every opportunity to master that grand study, like a man, and not come bothering me like a little boy who wants to go out to the pond to catch tittlebats? I'm ashamed of you both."

"It was only to have a little recreation, sir," said Murray.

"What do you want with recreation, I should like to know? Do you ever see me running after recreation?"

"No, sir," said Murray; "but then, sir, you're a first lieutenant."

"Yes, sir, and that's what you will never be so long as you hanker after childish pastimes."

"I'm very sorry, sir—" began Murray.

"Don't keep saying you are very sorry; it only makes the matter worse, when I have so much upon my mind. It's absurd, gentlemen. I wonder at you. Just because you see a few dolphins and albicores swimming below the ship's counter you must want to begin playing with the grains. There, be off, both of you. What would be the good of the fish if you harpooned them?"

"Make a nice change for the table, sir. The cook said—"

"Hang the cook!" cried the officer angrily. "What are you laughing at?"

"Only smiling, sir."

"And pray what at? Is there anything peculiar in my face?"

"No, sir," said Murray merrily. "I was only thinking of the consequences if we two obeyed your orders."

"Orders! I gave no orders."

"You said, hang the cook, sir," said Murray.

"Rubbish! Absurd! There, I told you both to be off. I'm not going to give you leave to play idle boys. If you want leave, there's the captain yonder; go and ask him."

"He'd only say, sir, why didn't we ask leave of you."

"And very proper too," said the first lieutenant, "and if he does say so you can tell him I would not give you leave because I thought it waste of time for young men who want to rise in their profession. What was that you muttered, Mr Murray?"

"I only said to myself, sir, 'All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.'"

"Yes; very true, my lad," said the officer, with a grim smile. "I'm not unreasonable, and I'd give you leave; but perhaps you had better ask your chief."

"Thank you, sir," said Murray.

"And look here, Murray; if you get permission, be careful. I don't want the routine of the ship to be interfered with and my men set hovering about to pick up a couple of useless idlers, and every one upset by the cry of a man overboard—I mean, a boy."

"I'll try not to be that boy," said Murray, smiling; and the chief officer gave him a friendly nod and walked forward.

"Bah!" grumbled Roberts. "There's favouritism."

"Nonsense!"

"'Tisn't. He always favours you."

"Not he."

"To turn upon us like that just because it's almost a calm! A growling old snarly! I never saw such a temper. Now he has gone forward to set the men to do something that doesn't want doing."

"He's a bit out of temper this morning because the skipper has been at him about something."

"Yes; I heard him at it. Nice pair they are, and a pretty life they lead the men!"

"Oh, well, never mind that. Tom May has got the grains and the line ready, and I want to begin."

"A boy! Apeing a man, and all that stuff!" muttered Roberts. "I suppose he never was a boy in his life."

"Oh, wasn't he! There, never mind all that."

"But I do mind it, sir," said Roberts haughtily, as he involuntarily began to pass his fingers over the spot just beneath his temples where the whisker down was singed. "I consider that his words were a perfect insult."

"Perfect or imperfect, what does it matter? Come on, sir. I want to begin harpooning."

"What do you mean by that?" cried Roberts, turning upon him angrily.

"What do I mean?"

"Yes; by using the word sir to me in that meaning way."

"You got on the stilts, and I only followed suit. There, there, don't be so touchy. Go on and ask the skipper for leave."

"No, thank you. I don't want to play the idle boy."

"Don't you? Then I do, and what's more, I know you do."

"Then you are quite wrong."

"If I'm wrong you told a regular crammer not half-an-hour ago, for you said you'd give anything for a turn with the grains this morning."

"I have no recollection of saying anything of the kind," said the lad angrily.

"What a memory! I certainly thought I heard you say so to Tom May; and there he is with the line and the jolly old trident all ready. There, come on and let's ask the chief."

"If you want to go idling, go and ask him for yourself. I'm going down to our dog-hole of a place to study navigation in the dark."

"Don't believe you, Dicky."

"You can believe what you please, sir," said Roberts coldly.

"All right. I'm off, and I shall ask leave for us both."

"You dare! I forbid it," cried Roberts angrily.

"All right," said Murray, turning on his heel, "but I shall ask for us both, and if you mean to forbid it you'd better come with me to the skipper."

Murray waited a few moments, standing watching the captain where he was marching up and down the quarter-deck, and timing himself so as to meet him full as he walked forward.

Roberts hesitated for a few moments and then followed closely, looking fiercely determined the while.

"Well, Mr Murray," said the captain sharply, as he became aware of the presence of the lad, who touched his cap. "What is it—a petition?"

"Yes, sir. A good many bonito are playing about the bows."

"Yes; I saw them, my lad. Want to go fishing—harpooning?"

"Yes, sir. Roberts and I."

"Oh yes, of course, my lad. A good time for it, and I shall expect a nice dish for the cabin table. But look here, Mr Murray, I like to keep to the little forms of the service, and in cases of this sort you had better ask Mr Anderson for leave. You understand?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," said Murray.

"No, no; I have not given you permission. Ask Mr Anderson. He will give you leave at once."

Murray saluted; the captain marched on; and directly after the two midshipmen were face to face.

"Then you have dared—" began Roberts.

"Yes, all right," said Murray, laughing to himself, for he noticed that his companion spoke in a low tone of voice so that his words might not be heard by their chief. "Yes, it's all right, only we're to ask Anderson."

"Yes, I heard what the skipper said, but I tell you at once I'm not going to stoop to do anything of the kind. Do you think I'm going to degrade myself by begging for leave again?"

"No, old chap, of course not," cried Murray, thrusting his arm beneath his companion's. "I'll do all that. But you must come now. Don't let's keep Tom May waiting any longer."

"But I tell you that—"

"Hush! Hold your tongue. Here's Anderson coming."

"Well, young gentlemen," said that officer, coming up sharply, "have you asked the captain?"

"Yes, sir, and he said that he would give us leave, but that he should prefer for us to ask your permission."

"That's right, my lads; quite right," said the first lieutenant, speaking quite blandly now. "You'd better start at once, for I don't think this calm is going to last. Who is going to help you?"

"Tom May, sir."

"Oh yes, I see. A very good trustworthy man. Mind, we shall expect some fish for dinner."

"He's a humbug, that's what he is," said Roberts angrily. "Blowing hot and cold with the same breath. I've a good mind to—"

"Come and have the first try? And so you shall, old chap. Look alive! We must get a good dish now, and for the lads too."

"Oh, I don't want to have anything to do with it," grumbled Roberts.

But his companion paid no heed to his words, for just then Tom May, who had been watching their proceedings as he waited until the permission had been obtained, stepped out to meet them, armed with the trident-like grains and fine line, looking like a modern Neptune civilised into wearing the easy-looking comfortable garb of a man-o'-war's man, and offered the light lissome staff to Murray.

"No, no," cried the lad. "Mr Roberts is going to have the first turn."

"I told you I didn't—" began Roberts, with far less emphasis, but Murray interrupted him.

"Best from the fore chains, won't it, Tom?"

"Yes, sir. Hold on with the left fin and strike with the right."

"Yes, of course. Now then, Dick, over with you; and don't go overboard, or I shall have to come after you."

"Better let me make a slip-knot for you, sir," said the man, "so as you don't lose your line and the grains at the same time."

The midshipman's lips parted for him to make another protest—a very faint one—but before he had spoken a word the sailor threw a running noose over his wrist, and, unable to resist the temptation of playing the part of harpooner of the good-sized fish that were playing in the clear water not far below the surface, he climbed over the bulwark and took his place in the chains outside the blocks which secured the shrouds, gathered the line in loops, and grasped the shaft of the long light implement, which somewhat resembled a delicately made eel spear, and stood ready to plunge it down into the first of the swiftly gliding fish which played about the side.

"I say, Dick," cried Murray eagerly, "don't be in too great a hurry. Wait till you get a good chance at a big one."

"All right," replied the lad, who at the first touch of the three-pronged spear forgot all his sham resistance and settled himself in an easy position with his left arm round one of the staying ropes, standing well balanced and ready to dart the implement down into one of the great beautifully-marked mackerel-natured fish, which with an easy stroke of its thin tail, shaped like a two-day-old moon, darted along the side, played round the sloop's stem, plunged beneath the keel and appeared again, to repeat its manoeuvres so rapidly that its coming and going resembled flashes of light.

"I'll have one directly," said Roberts, after letting two or three chances go by, "and you, Tom, when I spear one and haul him up, you take hold of the fish just forward of his tail, where you can grip him easily."

"Close up to his flukes, sir?" said the man, cocking one eye at Murray with a droll look which suggested the saying about instructing your grandmother. "All right, sir; I'll take care."

"Yes, you'd better!" said the midshipman, who was now all eagerness. "I'll spear one, Frank, and then you shall take the next turn."

"No, no; get a couple first, old chap," replied Murray, "or say three. We don't want to change too often."

"Oh, very well, just as you like. Ha!"

For a chance had offered itself; one of the bonitos had risen towards the surface and turned sharply preparatory to swimming back to pass round the stem of the Seafowl, and Roberts plunged down his spear; but he had not been quick enough.

"My word, that was near! Eh, Tom?" cried Murray.

"Near as a toucher," grunted the sailor, with his eyes twinkling.

"Never mind, Dick; you'll do it next time. Straight down, old chap; but you must allow for the water's refraction."

"Oh yes, I know," said the lad coolly, as he gathered in the dripping line in loops once more and again grasped the light ash pole ready for another stroke.

As if perfectly satisfied of their safety, a couple more of the bonitos glided along from following the sloop, and the midshipman made as if to throw, but hesitated and let the first fish glide beneath his feet, but darted the spear down at the second, and struck a little too soon, the swift creature apparently seeing the spear coming and with one wave of its tail darting into safety.

"Bother!" grunted Roberts.

"Third time never fails, sir," growled the sailor. That sailor told a great untruth, for when for the third time Roberts drove the trident he failed dismally, for in his excitement and hurry he took no care to hold the three-pronged fork so that it should strike the fish across the back, so that one or the other tooth should be driven into the flesh, but held it so that the blades were parallel with the fish's side, beside which they glided so that the bonito passed on unharmed.

"Oh, hang the thing!" cried the lad.

"Well, strike it first," said Murray, laughing. "We'll hang it then if you like."

"Do it yourself, then," growled Roberts angrily, hauling up the line and trident, before preparing to loosen the noose from his wrist.

"Nonsense!" cried Murray. "Stop where you are, man. You were in such a hurry, and didn't half try."

"No, you come and try. You are so much more handy with the grains than I am."

He spoke sourly, but his companion's last words had softened him a little. "Stop where you are, man!" sounded pleasant, and he hesitated.

"That's right. There, tighten the line again. I want to see you get one of those big ones, and you are not going to be beaten."

"But I'm not skilful over it, Frank," said Roberts.

"Be skilful, then, my lad. It's just the knack of it, that's all. Get that, and you'll hit one every time. Won't he, Tom?"

"Yes, sir. It's just the knack; that's all. Just look down, sir; there's no end of thumpers coming along, and if you wait your time, sir, you're sure to have one."

Roberts knit his brows as he gazed down beneath him at the shadow-like fish, which now looked dark, now reflected golden and greenish tints from their burnished sides, and once more prepared to strike; but he hesitated, and the bonito was gone.

"Here, you're nervous, Dick," cried Murray. "You're too anxious and want to make too sure. Be sharper and more careless. Just measure the distance as the next one comes along, make sure of him and let drive."

Roberts said nothing, but set his teeth hard as he balanced the ash pole in his hand, being careful to hold the spear so that the prongs were level with the horizon, and was in the act of driving the implement down when Murray whispered hoarsely—"Now then!"

That interruption proved to be just sufficient to throw the lad off his aim, and once more he missed. "My fault, Dick; my fault, Tom. I put him out," cried Murray excitedly.

"Yes, sir, that was it," said the sailor. "He'd have had that one for certain. You try again, Mr Roberts, sir; and don't you say a word to put him out, Mr Murray, sir, and you'll see him drive the grains into one of them biggest ones."

"All right, Tom. I'll be dumb as a dumb-bell. Go on, Dick; there are some splendid ones about now."

Roberts said nothing, but frowned and set his teeth harder than ever as he stood up now in quite a classic attitude, waiting till one of the finest of the fish below him came gliding along beneath his feet, and then reaching well out he darted the trident down with all his might. The line tightened suddenly, for he had struck the fish, and the next moment, before the lad could recover himself from his position, leaning forward as he was, there was a heavy jar at his wrist, the line tightened with quite a snap, and as the fish darted downward the midshipman was jerked from where he stood, and the next moment plunged head first with a heavy splash into the sea, showing his legs for a brief space, and then, in a shadowy way that emulated the fishes' glide, he went downward into the sunlit depths, leaving his two companions staring aghast at the result of the stroke.



CHAPTER NINETEEN.

"MAN OVERBOARD!"

Murray leaned over the side, looking down at the dimly seen figure of his companion, hardly visible in the disturbed water, and full of the expectation of seeing him come up again directly.

"What a ducking!" he thought to himself, and his features were corrugated with mirth. Tom May too was indulging in a hearty grin, which however began to smooth into a look of horror in nowise behind the aspect of Murray's face, for both now began to realise the fact that the tightened cord at which the harpooned fish was evidently tugging was rapidly drawing the middy farther and farther down, while the sloop was steadily gliding onward and leaving the unfortunate youth behind.

It was a time for action, and the moment Murray could throw off the nightmare-like feeling which held him motionless he sprang upon the rail, shouted loudly "Man overboard!" and then without a moment's hesitation plunged headlong down, taking a header into the glittering sunlit water below.

"A man overboard!" The most thrilling words that can be uttered at sea—words which chill the hearers for a moment and then are followed by a wild feeling of excitement which pervades more than runs through a ship, awakening it as it were with one great throb from frigid silence to excited life. In this instance, as Frank Murray made his spring, his words seemed to be echoed by Tom May in a deep roar as he too sprang upon the rail, from which he leaped, throwing his hands on high as he described a curve outward from the Seafowl's side, and then in the reverse of his position as his fingers touched the water there was a heavy splash, and those who ran to the side caught sight of the soles of his feet as he too disappeared for a short space beneath the rippled sea.

There was but a trifle of confusion on deck: the orders rang out, but almost before they were uttered the men were running to their stations in connection with one of the boats, which was rapidly manned; the blocks of the falls creaked as she sank down and kissed the water; the varnished ash blades flashed in the sunshine as they were seized and run from the rowlocks into regular double lines; and then, as they dipped, the cutter seemed to be endued with life, and darted forward to the rescue.

Meanwhile, confused by his sudden drag from daylight into semi-darkness and confusion, Roberts had recovered himself sufficiently to begin trying to free his wrist from the thin line which cut into it deeply as tug, tug, tug, it was drawn tighter and tighter by the harpooned fish, into whose back the barbed iron prongs had plunged deeply, and, far from robbing it of life, seemed only to have nerved it and stimulated it with a power that was extraordinary in a creature of its size. For the midshipman, as he struck out with one arm, felt himself dragged beneath the surface by his victim, whose efforts were directed entirely towards sounding deeply to seek the safety offered by the darkness fathoms below.

Tug and jerk, tug and jerk, in the midst of a confusion that grew more and more wild, as the midshipman strove to free himself from the bond which held him fast. The water thundered in his ears in a series of strange sounds which deepened into one deafening roar. The power of thinking of his position was rapidly passing away; the water above him grew darker and darker; and at last in one involuntary effort the lad ceased his struggle to free his wrist, and struck out wildly with arms and legs to force himself to the surface.

It was quite time, and fortunately the efforts of the fish to drag him down were for the moment weakening, while in response to his wild struggle the light grew brighter, and just as consciousness was about to leave him, the lad's head rose above the surface again and he gasped for breath.

It was life, but the respirations were succeeded directly by a renewal of the sharp tugs at his wrist, and the water was about to close over his head again, when he felt the touch of a hand and heard the panting voice of some one whose tones were familiar, as he was turned over face upward and his descent was checked.

Then amidst the confusion and his attempts to recover his breath, the unfortunate lad heard another voice, and the gruff tones seemed to be those of one giving orders.

"Hooroar, my lad!" came, close to the middy's ear. "That's good. Wait a moment. My knife'll soon cut him clear."

"No, no, Tom; don't cut. We can keep him up now. Shout for the boat."

"They don't want no shoutin', sir. They'll be here directly."

These words all seemed to reach the ears of Roberts from somewhere far away, and then the water was thundering in them again, and he began once more to struggle for life. Then again he seemed to get his breath in a half-choking confused way, as he heard the gruff tones begin again.

"I'd better cut, sir, on'y my knife won't open."

"No, no, Tom; we can manage. Keep his head well up."

"All right, sir. That was the beggar's flurry. Dessay he's turning up his white."

"Hooray!" came like another echo, along with the splash of oars, and then half consciously Roberts felt himself dragged over the side of the boat. There was another cheer, and a strange sound as of a fish beating the planks rapidly with its tail, while Murray's breathless voice, sounding a long way off, said—

"My word, he is a strong one! I am glad we've got him."

Then several other voices seemed to be speaking together, but in a confused way, and Roberts felt as if he had been asleep, till some one whose voice sounded like the doctor's said—

"Oh, he's all right now, sir."

"Who's all right now?" thought the lad; and he opened his eyes, to find himself lying upon the deck with the doctor upon one knee by his side, and pretty well surrounded by the officers and men.

"Nice wet fellow you are, Roberts," said the doctor.

"Eh?" said the lad, staring confusedly. "Have I been overboard?"

"Well, yes, just a trifle," replied the doctor.

"Oh yes, I remember now. Ah! Where's Frank Murray?" cried the lad excitedly.

"Here I am all right!" came from behind him.

"Ah!" ejaculated the half insensible lad, and he gave vent to a deep sigh of relief and closed his eyes. "I was afraid that—that—"

"But I am all right, Dick," cried Murray, catching the speaker by the hand.

"Ah, that's right. I was afraid—somehow—I thought you were drowned."

"There, there," cried the doctor, bending over the lad and patting his shoulder, "nobody has been drowned, and you are all right again, so I want you to get below and have a good towelling and then tumble into some dry things while I mix you up a draught of—What's the matter now?"

Roberts had suddenly sprung up into a sitting position, as if the doctor's last words had touched a spring somewhere in the lad's spine.

"Nothing, sir—nothing," he cried excitedly. "I'm all right again now. I recollect all about it, and how Frank Murray saved my life."

"Oh, it was Tom May did the most of it, Dick."

"Did he help?" continued the lad. "Ah, he's a good fellow,—Tom May. But I'm all right now, doctor; and where's the fish?"

The lad stared about him in a puzzled way, for he had become conscious of the fact that those around him were roaring with laughter, an outburst which was gradually subsiding, while those most affected were wiping their eyes, when his last query about the fish set them off again.

"Why, doctor," said the captain, trying to look serious, but evidently enjoying the mirth as much as any one present, "who is going to doubt the efficacy of your medicine after this? The very mention of it in Mr Roberts's hearing acted upon him like magic. Did you see how he started up like the man in the old tooth tincture advertisement—'Ha, ha! Cured in an instant!'"

"Oh yes, sir," said the doctor grimly; "but it's all very fine. You are all glad of my help sometimes."

"Of course, my dear Reston," said the captain. "No one slights you and your skill; but you must own that it was comic to see how Mr Roberts started up the moment you said physic."

"Oh yes, it was droll enough," said the doctor good-humouredly. "There, Roberts, if you feel well enough to do without my draught I will not mix one. What do you say?"

"Oh, I'm all right now, sir," cried the lad—"at least I shall be as soon as I've changed."

"Off with you, then," said the doctor; and catching hold of Murray's proffered arm, Roberts and his friend hurried below.



CHAPTER TWENTY.

IN THE DOCTOR'S HANDS.

Before the two middies had completed their change there was a tap at the cabin door, and in answer to the "Come in" Tom May's head was thrust through the opening, his face puckered up into a friendly grin.

"Getting all right again, gentlemen?" he said.

"Oh yes, Tom," cried Roberts excitedly, and he eagerly held out his hand, and catching the sailor by the shoulder dragged him inside. "I wanted to see you, Tom, and thank you for saving my life."

"For what, sir?" said Tom sharply.

"For so bravely saving my life."

"Oh, I say, sir," grumbled the man, speaking bashfully, "if I'd ha' knowed as you was going on like that I'm blessed if I'd ha' come down."

"Why, there was nothing to be ashamed of, Tom," said Murray warmly.

"Oh no, sir; I warn't ashamed to come down. I were on'y too glad to say a word to Mr Roberts like and see him come round."

"I'm glad too," said Murray; "and he feels very grateful to you for being so brave."

"I warn't brave, Mr Murray, sir. I did nowt. It was you—it was him, Mr Roberts, sir. He sings out, 'Man overboard!' and takes a header arter you, and what was I to do? He's my orficer, sir, and I was obliged to go arter him. You sees that?"

"Yes, yes, Tom," cried Roberts warmly. "He acted very bravely."

"Oh, drop it!" cried Murray.

"Course he did, sir," said the sailor. "I on'y obeyed orders."

"Will you both drop it!" cried Murray angrily. "What's the use of making a fuss about nothing? You're all right again, Tom?"

"Me, sir? Right as ninepence. Never had nowt the matter with me. 'Sides," continued the man, with a grin, "I had the doctor to look at me."

"Oh, I say," said Roberts eagerly, "he didn't give you any of his stuff, did he?"

"No, sir; but he wanted to."

"What did he say?"

"Said it would keep off the chill."

"Yes, and what then?" said the lads, in a breath.

"I telled him, gentlemen, that the first luff had sent Mr Snelling the purser to me with a dose, and he just grunted at me and went up again. Oh, I'm all right enough. What about you, Mr Roberts, sir?"

"Thanks to you, Tom, I'm just as you say you are. But what about that fish?"

"Oh, it's in the pot by now. The cook says it's the biggest albicore he ever see in his life, and for sartain, gentlemen, I never see one much more than half as big. There's bigger ones, of course, somewheres, but I never see one speared afore as would touch him. But I say, Mr Roberts, sir," continued the man, "you do feel all right again, don't you?"

"Oh yes, quite right, Tom; only a little bit achey about the back of the neck."

"Course you do, sir. I felt like that both times when I got pretty nigh drownded. That's 'cause you throws your head so far back, and it strains your muscles, sir. But never mind that, sir. It'll soon go off. I was going to say, sir, if you felt right enough I should punish that there fish pretty hard."

"I will, Tom," said the lad merrily; and the man went on deck.

"Ready?" said Murray, as he finished dressing.

"Yes, I'm ready, and at the same time I don't feel so," was the reply.

"Don't feel coming on poorly, do you?"

"Oh no," replied Roberts, "but I don't much care about going on deck again."

"Why not?"

"There's the skipper, and old Anderson; they're both sure to begin to grumble now."

"Oh no! I don't think they'll say anything."

"Well, you'll see," said Roberts decisively; and the lad proved to be right when the pair went on deck, for no sooner did they appear than the first lieutenant, who was forward with the men, giving some instructions, caught sight of them and began to approach.

"Look at that," whispered Roberts.

"Yes, and look at that, Dick," whispered Murray. For the captain, who was on the quarter-deck, had apparently caught sight of them at the same time, and began to make for them.

There was no retreat, for the lieutenant would have met them. But it so happened that the latter saw his chief approaching and returned at once to the group of sailors, leaving the captain to have the first words.

"You're right, Dick," whispered Murray. "Now for a wigging!"

"Well, young gentlemen," saluted them the next minute; "what have you to say for yourselves?"

"Thank you, sir," said Murray, drawing himself up and saluting, "we're not a bit the worse for our little adventure."

"Humph!" ejaculated the captain, looking at him sternly. "None the worse, eh?"

"No, sir, not a bit, and I don't think Roberts is; eh, Roberts?"

"Perhaps not, Mr Murray; but perhaps you will allow me to question Mr Roberts."

"I beg your pardon, sir," said Murray, colouring warmly.

"I do not grant it, sir," said the captain stiffly; "and perhaps you will be good enough to bear in mind what are our relative positions— those of commander of this sloop of war and very junior officer. Now, Mr Roberts," continued the captain sternly, as he half turned his back to Murray, "what have you to say for yourself?"

"Only that I'm very sorry to have been the cause of the trouble, sir."

"Humph! That's better," said the captain, "if your sorrow is real."

"Oh yes, sir; it's quite real, sir," said the youth hurriedly.

"Indeed! Well, I have my doubts, sir."

"But it really was quite an accident, sir," cried Roberts excitedly.

"Well, do you suppose, Mr Roberts, that I give you credit for purposely hitching yourself on to that fish and trying to get yourself drowned?"

"Oh no, sir; of course not."

"Don't interrupt me, Mr Roberts," said the captain sourly.

"Why, you asked me a question," thought the lad, "and I was only answering you;" and he turned very red in the face.

"I have been talking to Mr Anderson about this business, and he tells me that you both came worrying him for permission to use the grains and to waste your time trying to harpoon these fish that were playing about the bows, eh?"

"It was I, sir, who went to ask Mr Anderson for leave."

"I was not addressing you, Mr Murray," said the captain coldly; and then he continued: "Mr Anderson tells me that he put before you the fact that you would both have been better employed in continuing your studies of navigation. Now, you neither of you had the candour to tell me this. Anything but work, gentlemen, and the display of a determination to master your profession and grow worthy of trust, with the possibility of some day becoming worthy of taking charge of a vessel. I consider that you both—I say both, Mr Murray—took advantage of my kindly disposition and obtained the permission that Mr Anderson would have very properly withheld. Now look at the consequences of your folly; one of you was nearly drowned; the other was almost the cause of my losing one of my most valuable seamen in his efforts to save your lives; and the discipline of my ship is completely upset—a boat has to be launched, the doctor called upon to resuscitate one of you; and now what have you to say for yourselves? Nothing, but give me the paltry excuse of this being an accident. I tell you, gentlemen, that it cannot be considered an accident or mischance, for I look upon it as being a wilful disregard of your duties, and—er—er— that will do."

The captain put his hands behind his back and stalked off, leaving the two lads looking at each other.

"That's nice," said Murray, in a whisper.

"Lovely!" whispered back Roberts.

"And this isn't the worst of it," said Murray softly; "here comes Anderson."

"Oh, I do feel so bad!" muttered Roberts. "I'll tell him so."

"Well, young gentlemen," said the lieutenant, coming up, "I hope the captain has taken you both well to task."

"Yes, sir, he has," said Murray, with a drily comical look upon his countenance. "I'm sure if you had heard him you wouldn't think it necessary to say another word."

The lieutenant gave the lad a severe look, frowning hard, and he was evidently about to say something sharp, but after being silent for a few moments his face relaxed and he smiled pleasantly.

"Well," he said, turning again to Murray, "I will take it for granted that you have both had a thoroughly good talking to, and I will say no more."

"Thank you, sir," said Murray, with a sigh of relief.

The lieutenant turned upon him sharply.

"Yes," he said, "I suppose you do mean that. Well, Mr Roberts, I hope you feel none the worse?"

"No, sir; yes, sir, I—no sir, not at all the worse."

"I am glad of it. But you had a very narrow escape. Your life was saved by Murray's bravery. A very gallant action, my lad—manly and brave; but no more of such gallant actions, if you please. I have quite enough responsibilities in connection with my duties on this ship without being worried with a pack of boys risking their lives for the sake of catching a fish or two, so let me have no more of it. Do you hear? There, you need not speak."

The lieutenant turned short round and marched away frowning, leaving the lads looking at one another for a few minutes, before Murray whispered, "Come along forward," with the result that they made for a favourite spot where, well out of sight of the quarter-deck, they could rest their folded arms upon the rail and gaze down into the transparent water which glided by the sloop's cut-water with hardly a ripple, so soft was the breeze which filled the crowd of canvas that had been set.

"I thought we should get it," said Roberts, after a few minutes' silence.

"Oh, never mind, old chap," said his companion quietly. "You got off pretty easy."

"I did? Oh, come; it was you who got off easy. 'A very gallant act,' didn't he say?"

"Something of the kind."

"Yes; 'a very gallant act.' You always get the praise, Frank," said Roberts gloomily. "It has always been so ever since we joined. One is expected to devote himself in every way possible to learning one's profession, and for reward one gets bullied and blamed for pretty well everything. Nobody ever told me that I had performed a very gallant act."

"Well, look here, what do you say to me tumbling overboard so that you can come over after me and save my life?"

"Bother! Look here, Frank, if you can't talk sense you'd better hold your tongue."

"If I did you'd only get more rusty. I say, Dick, I once read about a fellow being saved from drowning."

"Me, of course," interrupted Roberts, in an angry tone. "What are you up to now—fishing for praise of your 'gallant act'?"

"Not likely," was the reply, good-humouredly. "I was going to tell you about some one who was saved from drowning."

"Well, you needn't. I know all about it now, thank you, and I don't want to hear."

"Never mind, old chap; I want to tell you, and it's very interesting and quite true."

Roberts grunted and gave himself a hitch so as to turn half away from his companion and stand staring away to sea.

"It said that when the poor fellow was on the deck again—you see, he had fallen from the yard and they had to lower down a boat so as to get him aboard, and when they did he seemed to be quite dead—same as you did."

"Tchah! Nothing of the kind. I was only a bit insensible."

"Well, you were quite bad enough," said Murray, "and the doctor had to bring you round same as this chap; and when he was able to sit up and talk it was quite curious—"

"I don't see anything curious about a half-drowned chap coming to and being able to talk."

"No," said Murray, smiling, as he watched his companion intently, "but that wasn't the curious part."

"Well, then, what was? Oh, I say, I do wish you wouldn't keep on prosing about what nobody wants to hear. There, go on and get it finished."

"All right; don't hurry a fellow," said Murray. "I can't dash off things as quickly as you can."

Roberts wrenched himself round so that he could look fiercely at his companion, and he spoke with quite an angry snap.

"Is that meant for a sneer?" he said.

"No, my son; not a bit of it, unless it contains just a go at myself for being so slow."

"Ho!" ejaculated Roberts. "Well, what's the curious thing about your chap who had been nearly drowned?"

"They brought him to—" said Murray deliberately.

Roberts gave himself an angry jerk and reached out his hand to snatch at a marlin-spike stuck just beneath the rail.

"What's the matter now?" asked Murray.

"You'll know directly if you don't finish your twaddling stuff. You told me all that before," cried the lad irritably.

"Did I? Well, you keep on interrupting me so."

"There, go on."

"All right," continued Murray, in the most imperturbable way. "Well, as I was saying, that when they brought the poor fellow round—"

"Bravo, oh prince of story-tellers!" cried Roberts sneeringly. "They brought him round, did they? I wonder he didn't stop drowned if he was surrounded by people who kept on prosing like you are."

"Well, he didn't," said Murray coolly; "they brought him round."

"Here, Frank, old chap," cried Roberts, with mock interest, "it's as well to be quite certain when you are making history—are you sure that they didn't bring him square?"

"Oh yes, quite," said Murray quietly; "they brought him round, and it was remarkable what an effect it had upon his temper."

Roberts turned upon him again quite fiercely.

"He seemed to have turned acid right through, and snapped and snarled at those about him; and then—"

"Now, look here, young fellow," cried Roberts, interrupting his companion, "I'm not all a fool, Frank Murray, and I can see quite plainly enough that this is all meant for a go at me. Do you mean to tell me that I have turned upon every one to snap and snarl at them? Because if you do, say so like a man."

"Well, old chap—" began Murray, smiling.

"Oh, you do, do you? You've made up your mind to quarrel with me, have you? Very well, sir. I don't want to be on good terms with a fellow who, in spite of the way in which I have made myself his friend ever since he joined, is determined to—determined to—Here, this is beyond bearing, sir. We're too big now to settle our quarrels, like a couple of schoolboys, with our fists, but the wretched state in which we are compelled to exist by the captain's absurd prejudices against settling a dispute in a gentlemanly way compels one to put off all consideration of age and position; so come down below. We can easily get to where the men will take care that we are not interrupted by the officers; and if I don't give you the biggest thrashing you ever had, it's because I am weak from the effects of that accident and being dragged under water for so long. Now then, come on, and—don't irritate me any more by grinning in that absurd way, or I shall strike you before you put up your hands on guard, and then—"

The lad, who was gazing wildly at his companion, stopped short, for, half startled now by his brother middy's manner, Murray had laid his hand upon his arm.

"Steady, Dick," he said quietly. "You're not yourself, old chap. I didn't mean to irritate you. Don't go on like that; here's the doctor coming forward, and I don't want him to come and see you now."

These words wrought a complete change, for to Murray's surprise the agitated lad slipped his wrist free, and brought his hand down firmly upon that of his companion, to close it in a firm grip.

"Here, Frank," he whispered, "don't take any notice of what I said. I couldn't help it. I don't know what has come to me. I must be like the fellow you were talking about, and if the doctor knows, I feel—I'm sure that I shall be much worse."

"Hist! Keep quiet. Let's be looking at the fish. Look at that."

He pointed downward through the clear water, and making an effort Roberts leaned over the rail.

"Yes; I see," he said huskily. "A shark, sure enough."

"Yes; only a little one, though," said Murray aloud. "I say, isn't it curious how those brutes can keep themselves just at a certain depth below the keel, and go on swimming easily at just the same rate as we are going, without seeming to make any effort!"

"Yes, very strange; very, very strange," said Roberts loudly, and with his voice sounding husky and faint. "Hah!" he ejaculated, at last, in a tone of relief. "He's not coming here." For the doctor had suddenly caught sight of Titely and crossed the deck to speak to the man.

"No, he's not coming here," said Murray quietly.

"I oughtn't to be afraid to meet the old fellow, though, Frank," said Roberts, with a sigh, "for I must be ill to turn like that."

"Not ill, old chap," said Murray quietly. "Come on down below."

"Then you think I'm bad?" whispered the midshipman, turning upon his companion sharply.

"Not bad, but upset by the accident."

"And nearly losing my life," whispered Roberts.

"Yes, that's it. Come down and take off your jacket."

"Not to fight," said the lad bitterly. "Oh, Franky! And after you had just saved my life! I must have been half mad, old chap."

"Bah! Drop it, Dick," said Murray quietly. "You come down, and turn into your berth."

"Yes; for a good nap."

"That's right, old chap. Have a good snooze if you can; but don't mind if you can't get to sleep. I'll open the port-hole as wide as possible so as to get as much cool air as I can into the place. All you want is rest. You don't want the doctor."

"No; that's right; I don't want the doctor." And then, eagerly taking his companion's arm, the lad permitted himself to be led below, where he threw off his jacket and turned into his cot with a sigh of relief.

"Ah," he said, "that's better! Never mind me now. Go up on deck, and if any one asks about me say I'm having a sleep after the ducking."

"All right," replied Murray, and he saw in the semi-darkness that the middy had closed his eyes tightly but seemed to have to make an effort to keep the quivering and twitching lids still.

"I say, Franky," came from the cot, after a short pause.

"Well?"

"You're not gone on deck."

"No, not yet. Come, off you go. Like a glass of water?"

"No! No water."

"Well, what is it?"

"I only wanted to say something, Frank," whispered the poor fellow, in a faltering voice.

"Better not, old chap. You want rest, and not to bother your brain with talking."

"Thank you, doctor," said the lad, with a faint smile. "Why, you're ever so much better than old Reston. Yes, I want sleep, for my head seems to be all of a buzz; but I must say something before I can get off."

"Well, then, look sharp and say it. Well, what is it?"

"Only this, Franky, old fellow—"

"Well, what is it?" said Murray, after the pause which followed the last words. "There, let it go; I'm sure it will keep."

"No, no," whispered the lad excitedly. "It won't keep. I feel as if I can't bear to say it, and yet that I can't bear to keep it back. There, that sounds half mad, doesn't it? I—I—"

"Is it anything to do with what you said to me a bit ago?"

"Hah! Thank you, old fellow; you've made me feel as if I could say it now," whispered the lad hoarsely. "Franky, I feel as if I've been an ungrateful beast to you."

"Hold hard, Dick," said Murray quickly; and he laid his hand upon the one lying close to the edge of the cot. "I understand how hard it must be for you to talk about it, and it's just as hard for me to listen. So look here, Dick. You haven't been yourself, lad; when a fellow's a bit off his head he isn't accountable for what he says. I know; so look here. Am I hurt and annoyed by what you said? Not a bit of it. That's right, isn't it?" he continued, as his hand closed firmly upon that of the half hysterical lad. "You know what that means, don't you?"

"Hah! Yes!" sighed the lad gently; and it sounded to Murray as if a tremendous weight had been lifted off the poor fellow's breast.

"Then now you can go to sleep, and when you wake up again I hope you will have forgotten all about it, for that's what I mean to as a matter of course, and—How rum!" said the lad to himself, for the hand that had been returning his pressure had slowly slackened its grasp and lay perfectly inert in his. "Why, he must be asleep! Well, I shall soon know."

As the lad thought this he loosened his own grasp, and the next minute was able to slip his fingers away. Directly after he drew back a little more, and quietly rose from the locker upon which he had been seated close to his companion's side with his back to the cabin stairs.

Then turning to go up on deck, Murray started to find himself face to face with the doctor, who had followed the lads down and stepped in without being heard.

"Asleep?"

Murray pointed to the occupant of the cot without a word, and the doctor bent low and then drew back.

"That's good," he whispered. "It was a nasty shock for the poor fellow, but there's nothing for me to do, my lad. A few hours' sleep will quite set him right. I like this, though, Murray," he continued, laying his hand upon the lad's shoulder and giving it a friendly grip. "You boys are thoughtless young dogs sometimes, but this sort of thing shows that you have got the right stuff in you—the right feeling for one another."

"Oh, I say, doctor, don't!" whispered Murray.

"Not going to, much," said the gentleman addressed. "I'm a rough fellow sometimes, I know, but I notice a deal, and I like to see a bit of feeling shown at the right moment. You don't know how it pleases me when one of our foremast fellows has been laid aside, and I see that a messmate has sneaked down to keep him company, and take care that he is not short of tobacco to chew—Hang him for trying to poison a man who would be far better without it!—Yes, looks as guilty as can be, and quite shamefaced at having been caught playing the nurse. It shows that the dog has got the true man in him, Murray, and though I don't let them see that I notice anything I like it more than you think. There, Roberts is all right," said the doctor gruffly, "but don't stop here breathing up the cool air I want for my patient. Come on deck, my lad; come on deck."



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

"NIGGAH, SAH."

A month passed swiftly away, during which the Seafowl sighted and chased vessel after vessel, each of which had been forced to lie to in response to a shot fired across her bows, but only with a disappointing result—one which sent the captain into a temper which made him dangerous to approach for a full half-hour after the strangers' papers had been examined, to prove that she had nothing whatever to do with the slave-trade.