"Bah! another false alarm," cried Mr Staples; "are we never to capture one of the scoundrels?"

Just then Mark touched his elbow, and pointed to a vessel which had been unnoticed before, lying as it did close under the sh.o.r.e, with bare poles raked well back, and the whole of the long, low, schooner-rigged vessel wearing a look of having been built for swift-sailing more than for any ordinary trading purpose.

"Well done, sharp eyes!" cried the lieutenant; "that's one of the scoundrels;" and the course of the _Nautilus_ was changed directly with a peculiar result.

The minute before not a soul was to be seen on board the schooner, which might have been absolutely deserted; but, as soon as the course of the _Nautilus_ was changed and those on board saw that, in spite of lying close up under the trees of the muddy sh.o.r.e of what appeared to be a creek, they had been observed, sails were rapidly hoisted, and the slight, graceful vessel began to glide so swiftly through the water that it was evidently no slow ship that would catch her should she once get into the offing.

She was about a mile away and promised to escape, but Captain Maitland did not mean to be out-manoeuvred this time. The crew were beat to quarters, a gun fired, and the colours run up as the course of the _Nautilus_ was again altered so as to cut the schooner off, and in due time a second gun gave out its puff of smoke.

But no heed was taken, and the schooner kept along close in sh.o.r.e till her captain saw that escape was impossible in the direction he was taking, and altering his helm, the swift vessel glided round and made off in the opposite direction.

But the _Nautilus_ was again too quick for her, and in a few minutes was once more hard in chase and sending shot after shot, till one better directed than the rest went through her maintopmast.

The crew of the _Nautilus_ sent up a tremendous cheer as the great spar came down with its gaff sail, leaving the schooner for the time like a bird with a broken wing.

"We shall have her now for certain," said Bob Howlett.

"Yes; and she has shown no colours," replied Mark; "but suppose she does not turn out to be a slaver, after all."

"Suppose pigs were to fly," cried Bob. "She's a slaver for certain, and we've got her."

"Doesn't look like it," replied his companion; "where's she making for now? Why, she sails as well as ever."

This was a slight exaggeration, but all the same the vessel glided along rapidly, and through the gla.s.ses the crew could be seen rapidly cutting away the damaged rigging, while her helm was manipulated so that she appeared to be sailing right for the sh.o.r.e.

Another shot and another was fired, but not the slightest heed was paid; and as the _Nautilus_ went swiftly on, it was noted that, unseen before, there was a narrow river running up through the trees, with its regular fringe of mangroves, and the schooner was being steered for this.

"She'll get right up that river, after all," said Mark, who in the excitement had forgotten all his past illness, and appeared to be as strong as ever.

"Not she. We shall have her first, my lad. Hurray! look, she has given in. They've stopped and surrendered."

"She has struck on one of the banks, sir," cried Lieutenant Staples, excitedly, for the schooner's way through the water had suddenly ceased, and she slowly swung round broadside on, with her sails shivering and flapping.

"A prize at last!" cried Mark, as the men cheered, and the _Nautilus_ glided on, till, when they were about a quarter of a mile away, Mr Russell announced that a couple of boats were leaving the schooner, and it was seen that her captain and crew were making for the sh.o.r.e.

"No doubt now about what she is, gentlemen," said the captain. "Pipe away the cutter's crew. Mr Russell, you would like to begin work again. Jump in, sir, and go and take possession."

"And pursue the boats, sir?"

"Bah! no! They are not worth the labour. You can take one of the young gentlemen with you."

Bob took a step forward, but Mr Russell turned to Mark.

"You'll come, Vandean," he said; and the lad leaped into the cutter, which was rapidly rowed away through the muddy water, just as the schooner's boats disappeared round a headland covered with trees, which screened the outlet of a stream far larger than had been imagined, and for which without doubt now the schooner's captain had been making.

"A splendid prize, Vandean," said Mr Russell, as they drew near and saw the admirable build of the vessel, which looked nearly new. "She was evidently on her way for a cargo of the poor wretches. We ought to have taken her afterwards, when she was laden."

"Yes, we should have done more good then. But if they had no slaves on board, why did they run? Oh!"

The midshipman uttered an e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n expressive of the utter disgust which he felt as they neared the schooner's side.

"What is it? What's the matter?" cried the lieutenant; and then his countenance changed. "Back water!" he exclaimed, as he turned away his head. "How horrible!"

Then, altering his order, he cried, "Row--row, my lads--pull!"

For from somewhere on board, now not a dozen yards from them, there rang out in smothered tones a piteous cry of despair.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

IN THE SCHOONER'S HOLD.

It was undoubtedly a terrible cry of despair from a human being in deadly peril, and with all the force of Englishmen sent to answer such a call for aid, the boat was rushed through the water, the c.o.xswain hooked on, and setting at defiance that which had horrified and disgusted them, the two officers, followed by all their men but the boat-keeper, sprang on board the beautifully clean, trim-looking schooner, where the remains of the broken spar, axes that had been hastily thrown down, and a tangle of cordage and canvas c.u.mbered the deck.

"What is it?" cried Mark, excitedly. "Is someone being killed?"

"Some dozens," cried Russell, fiercely, as the cry was repeated from beneath their feet, followed by a horrible scuffling sound mingled with groans. "The wretches have battened down the hatches, and the poor creatures below are suffocating."

As he spoke, he caught up one of the axes from where it lay, an example followed by Mark, and they struck off the fastenings which held down the hatches close by where they stood.

The horrible sounds ceased at the first blow of the axe, and a deathly silence succeeded, followed by a low, deep, murmuring roar.

"Stop!" cried Mr Russell. "Stand by, lads, and be prepared. The poor wretches may not know friends from foes."

The next minute the hatch was thrown up, and there was a fearful rush, not that for which they had prepared, but one perhaps worse. The wretched blacks crowded down in the stifling hold were too much cowed by the brutality from which they had suffered to dare then to raise a hand; and, instead of making a dash for liberty as antic.i.p.ated, they waited in expectation of death being the portion of the man who first reached the opening.

The boat's crew shrank away from the hatch, driven back by the rush of poisonous air of so fearful an odour that the lieutenant turned ghastly as he cried,--"Oh, horror! how can the poor creatures exist?" How indeed? Relief had only come in time. The captain of the schooner had probably intended to pretend that he had no slaves on board, but had altered his mind and fled after the poor wretches had been shut down; and, without doubt, if they had been unable to break out to the deck, in less than an hour not a soul would have been left alive.

"Here, Vandean," cried Mr Russell, "we must risk their attacking us, and have them on deck. How are we to make them understand? Hi! below there! Come up into the fresh air."

But there was no reply, save a stifled moan or two.

"Volunteers," cried the lieutenant. "Two men to go down and bring one of the poor wretches up. We can show him that we mean well, and then he can act as interpreter."

For a few moments no one spoke, and Mr Russell cried:--"I know it's a terrible task, my lads. Who'll come with me?"

"No, with me," said Mark, quickly; and he stepped to the mouth of the noisome pit.

"Oh, I'll go with you, Mr Vandean, sir," cried Tom Fillot; and without a word Mark drew a deep breath, stepped in on the ladder, and descended, the light being shut out directly by the sailor.

The heat was awful, and after holding his breath till he reached the bottom, at the first inspiration Mark felt giddy and sick; but making a brave effort, he took a step forward, trying to pierce the darkness around--black darkness to one who had just come out of the blazing sunshine--and made a s.n.a.t.c.h at the arm of the man nearest to him in the crowd.

He only held on for a moment, and then the arm was wrested free. He seized another, speaking gently the while. The man uttered a yell of horror, and struggled so fiercely, that Mark was fain to let go.

"We must get one on deck, Tom," cried Mark. "Lay hold of one as gently as you can, and let's pull him up."

Tom Fillot seized the first he could distinguish in the herd of poor cowering wretches, but this one, too, filled the foul air with his piercing yells, and fought so hard to free himself, that Tom let go, and stepped back below the hatch.