"Hit a spar," continued Bob; "and there is no mistake about the way that Yankee skipper can sail his craft, for he dodged and turned, and kept throwing us off in the most cunning way, trying to show us a clean pair of heels, and over and over again he distanced us. But Maitland and old Staples grew madder and madder, trying all they knew to crowd on sail till once more we got near, and then down went another of the poor blacks. Old Staples regularly jumped off the deck in his rage, for we were obliged to drop the captain's gig this time to pick up the poor wretch--leastwise, try to, for they didn't get him, and as we couldn't spare any more hands we had to wait for the gig to come aboard again.

"That gave old Stars and Stripes a chance to get ever so far-away, and I tell you it wasn't safe to go near the skipper. Ah! we may well call him that. He made some of 'em skip, I can tell you, that day.

"'I'll sink her,' I heard him say, 'I'll sink her,' and I expected to hear him order the guns to be depressed next time we got near enough for a shot."

"But he didn't do that," said Mark excitedly.

"Lie down, sir! Quiet, will you?" cried Bob fiercely. "How am I to flow on if you keep stopping me?"

"Go on, please," said Mark.

"Of course I didn't let him fire," continued Bob, importantly. "How could I go plunging round-shot into the miserable schooner and kill no end of n.i.g.g.e.rs? Wasn't to be thought about. So we crowded on again till they dropped another black overboard, and we had to heave to and pick him up, and then another and another till we had got four. The other two were either hurt, I think, or so weak that they couldn't swim, and the poor fellows went down before our lads could get to them."

"How horrible!"

"Yes; it'll be pretty horrible for Yankee Doodle if old Maitland ever gets his paw on him."

"If ever--" began Mark.

"Will you lie down?" cried Bob.

"Well, I am lying down," replied Mark. "I don't feel as if I could sit up."

"No, nor you won't till Whitney and I have bricked and mortared you well."

"Pray, pray go on, and tell me about capturing the schooner."

"You won't let me with your interruptions," cried Bob. "It's always the way with you fellows when you're getting better. You are right down nasty."

"Go on, Bob."

"Well, on we went after my gentleman, getting close enough to make his sails ragged, and then being dodged about in every direction as he went through all sorts of manoeuvres to escape. Now we were hove to, to pick up some of his cargo, now in full chase again, till I got sick of it by daylight, and every one else too, and the men so savage that they would have liked to pour in a broadside if it hadn't been for the poor fellows under hatches. At last it was morning, and the sun up, with the schooner a good mile away, and then came the worst of it."

"The worst of it?"

"Ay, ay, sir! as we say at sea. No sooner was the sun well up than the sails began to shiver.

"'Wind's failing, sir,' says old Staples.

"'Bah! nonsense!' says the skipper, and there came a hot puff and filled the sails again, making us careen over. 'There, Mr Staples,' says the skipper, 'what do you think of that?'

"'Last puff, sir, for the day,' says Staples.

"'Nonsense we shall have her now,' says the skipper; and then he crossed just in front of me and gave a big stamp, for the sails flopped down all at once, and there we were gliding slowly on for a bit, and then settling on an even keel, while a mile away there was the schooner with a light breeze, going along as easily as could be, and if the Yankee captain didn't have the cheek directly after to load a little swivel gun he had on board, and fire at us over the stern, as if he were laughing at us.

"Then I saw Maitland give old Staples such a savage look, and go down into his cabin."

"Well?" said Mark.

"Oh no, it wasn't, old chap; it was ill. There we were regularly becalmed, and if the wind didn't keep along astern of the schooner and carry her right away, till she was hull down, and then by degrees we lost sight of her sails, and the game was up."

"Then you didn't take her?" cried Mark.

"Take her? How could we take her when we were becalmed?"

"And the Yankee skipper got right away?"

"Right away, a robber; and took the prize-money we had so honestly earned along with him. All that trouble for nothing; and what was worse, we couldn't come in search of you, for it fell about the deadest calm I ever saw in all my experience at sea, and that isn't saying much, is it, Van?"

"Oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mark, "how horrible! You ought to have caught her, Bob."

"That's right jump on me just as if I didn't do my best."

"Go on now, and tell me the rest," said Mark sadly. "Not that it is of much consequence. I know you picked us up."

"Oh, well, I may as well tell you, though, as you say, it was of no consequence whatever. Government could have afforded a new first and second cutter and tackle; men are plentiful; and as to officers, there's any number in stock."

"Don't chaff, Bob. Tell me, there's a good chap. You came on then in search of us as soon as you knew that you couldn't catch the schooner."

"No, we didn't. How could we without a breath of wind? All we did was to lie there and roast and roll on the big swell, with Maitland savage at losing the schooner, and fidgeting to death about the two absent boats. I heard him talking to Staples.

"'A great error, Staples,' he said. 'I had no business to leave the poor fellows behind without any provisions in case of accident, and I ought to have known better.'

"All that day we had the horizon swept with gla.s.ses in the hope of seeing you fellows come rowing after us, but it was getting close to night before the man at the masthead shouted that a boat was in sight, and I went up aloft to make out if it was you. But it wasn't, old chap.

It was Ramsey with the second cutter, and the poor chaps' faces were awful as they were hauled up to the davits. They were so hoa.r.s.e that they couldn't speak, and I felt queer to see their wild-eyed look and the rush they made for the water that was put ready for them.

"Of course they had seen nothing of you, and that night everybody began to look blank and talk in whispers, while I had something for supper, Van, which didn't agree with me, and I never got a wink of sleep all night.

"Next day was calm as ever, and we were slowly rolling on the swell; the hammock rails were as hot as the bell, and the pitch was oozing out everywhere. I quite spoilt a pair of hind leg sleeves with the tar, going up to the masthead. My word, they were gummy."

"What had you been doing? Who mast-headed you?" asked Mark.

"Doing? Nothing. n.o.body mast-headed me, only myself."

"What for?"

"Well, you are a lively sort of a chap to have for a messmate, Van.

That's grat.i.tude, that is, for going up to look after you with the gla.s.s. Now if it had been my case I should have said:--'Mark Vandean, my most attached friend, I regret extremely that in your anxiety to gain tidings of me and my boat, you should have brought the cloth of your sit-downs into contact with the insp.i.s.sated juice of the Norwegian fir, to their destruction and conversion into sticking-plaister. My tailors are Burns and Screw, Cork Street, Bond Street, London. Pray allow me to present you with a new pair.'"

"Oh, Bob, what a tongue you have!"

"Lovely. But I say--insp.i.s.sated juice is good, isn't it?"

"Do go on telling me, Bob. I'm too weak to stand banter. So you went up to the masthead to look for me, old chap?"

"I did, my son, and pretty well lived up there--I mean died--it was so hot. But there was nothing to see eastward but the dim hazy sea and sky, though I watched for days and days."

"Days and days?" said Mark, wonderingly.