"Don"t you try it, mister," cried the skipper. "But look here, squaire, we want our breakfast."
"Your rations shall be served out to you all in good time," replied Mark.
"But we want "em now, mister; my lads are half famished."
"I tell you that you shall have them soon, so wait patiently."
"Wall, don"t be ugly about it, squaire. We"re not ugly now. Look here, it"s hot and smothering down here. Let us come up on deck and have a confab about this business. It"s of no use for us to quarrel about it, so let"s square matters."
"I don"t understand you."
"Yew don"t? Wall, look here; yew"ve took the schooner, and I s"pose she"s your prize if yew say yew ain"t pirates. "Scuse me for thinking yew was, seeing as yew came in a schooner as don"t look a bit like a Britannic Majesty"s ship o" war."
"I told you that was a prize to her Majesty"s ship."
"Ah, so yew did, and now yew"ve got another, but yew don"t want a lot o"
Murrican corpses aboard, squaire, so let us out, so as we can breathe.
We"ll make a truce with yew."
The boat had come back from the second prize, and Tom Fillot walked up to look on, listening and wondering.
"You mean to say that if I let you come on deck--you and your men--you will not attempt to escape or recapture the schooner?"
"That"s so, captain."
Tom made an angry gesticulation, and took a step nearer to his young officer.
"Then to show your good faith," cried Mark, "hand up all your pistols through the ventilator."
There was a few moments" silence, and Tom slapped his knee softly.
"Well, do you hear?" cried Mark.
"Wall, captain, I"m willing," said the skipper, "but my lads here say air yew to be trusted? and what"s to become o" them if they come up and yew and yewr men turn nasty, and them without weepons?"
"You heard what I said, sir; hand up your pistols," said Mark, firmly.
"Guess we can"t do that, squaire. But look here, captain."
The complimentary t.i.tle did no good, for Mark turned sharply away.
"See that some biscuit and water are lowered down to these people, Fillot," he cried.
"Ay, ay, sir."
"Biscuit--water?" roared the American skipper, his voice coming up through the ventilator with a yell. "Yew don"t mean to say--"
He stopped short to listen to Tom Fillot"s next words.
"Shall we open the hatch, sir?"
"No; lower all down through the ventilator," cried Mark, from where he had walked.
Tom Fillot joined him, with a grim smile on his countenance, soon after.
"Hear the skipper, sir?" he said.
"No; what did he say?"
Tom Fillot gave the midshipman a comical look.
"I don"t think you"d care to hear what he said, sir. But my word, he is in a snag. Swears he"ll be even with you yet, sir, and that we"re a set of thieves and pirates, and not British sailors at all."
"I thought you were not going to tell me what he said, Tom."
"I ain"t, sir. That was only some of the nice innercent bits. You"ll excuse me, sir, won"t you?"
"Excuse what?"
"Just hinting again about the irons, or setting of "em afloat near the sh.o.r.e."
"I"ll excuse you, Tom Fillot, but I shall not do it."
"Very good, sir; you"re officer, I"m only man; but I"m afeared of "em."
"I don"t believe it, Tom."
"Well, sir, I don"t mean feared in one way, but in the t"other. I mean I"m feared they"ll get out, and if they do, and we surwive, they"ll either put us in irons or set us ash.o.r.e."
"They"ve got to get out yet, Tom. That cable"s heavy enough to keep them from opening the hatch."
"Yes, sir; it"s heavy enough, but I can"t feel sure of "em. These Yankees are such clever chaps. It"s wonderful what dodges and tricks they can think of. I only wish the _Naughtyla.s.s_ would heave in sight, and take charge of both schooners. The blacks are enough to take care on without a gang o" savage chaps like them below."
CHAPTER THIRTY.
A JOINT WATCH.
That day pa.s.sed quietly enough. The weather was hot, but tempered by a gentle gale, which wafted them on their way; and, as Mark gazed at the verdant sh.o.r.e through a gla.s.s and then at the glistening sea, it seemed to him as if Heaven was smiling upon their efforts to save the poor weak, trembling creatures, who were ready to wince and shrink away every time he marched forward to where their part of the deck was shut off by a rope stretched taut from side to side. But as soon as he put off the stern official look he wore--an unconscious copy of Captain Maitland"s quarter-deck manner--and smiled at them, their faces lit up, and he felt as if they would go down upon their knees to him and kiss his feet, if he would permit it.
Already they looked better, and, like those in the second prize, basked in the sunshine, and talked together in a low, soft, pleasantly-sounding tongue.
The second prize was visited twice, and in addition to Taters, Grote and Dance were left on board, to take it in turns at the wheel and manage the little sail, hoisted now to help the steering and ease the strain on the tow-rope.
So everything went well that day: the Americans were quiet down below, and though the progress made was only slow, Mark felt hopeful, as he swept the horizon with his gla.s.s, of seeing the _Nautilus_ come round some point, or appear in the offing at any time.
That night, so as to guard against their being pa.s.sed by their friends in the darkness, lights were hoisted as a signal that would be pretty sure to bring them help; and this being done, Tom Fillot approached his superior respectfully, to speak him, as he called it, about the division of the watches.