The Black Bar - Part 21
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Part 21

"They think we want to chuck 'em overboard, Mr Vandean, sir. I don't know what to say to 'em. No good to tell 'em that under the British flag they're free."

"Let's go and breathe for a few moments, Tom," said Mark, his voice sounding as if he were half-stifled.

"I'd rather do that, sir, than have the best gla.s.s o' grog ever mixed,"

said the man.

"Now below there!" came from the hatch; "how are you getting on?"

Mark answered the question by stumbling up the ladder till he could put his face over the combings of the hatch, and breathe the air blowing over the vessel, Tom Fillot following suit.

"You look white as ashes, Vandean," said the lieutenant. "I had no business to let you go down. But the men are not dangerous?"

"Like so many sheep," replied Mark, rather faintly; "but we could not get one to come."

"Come out, and I'll go myself."

"No," said Mark, stoutly. "I have only half done my work. Come along, Tom Fillot."

Before he could be stayed, he stepped down once more into the terrible hold, where, his eyes growing now more accustomed to the darkness, he began to make out eyes everywhere--glistening, starting eyes--all apparently staring fiercely, and in a threatening way.

The whole scene was horrible, every surrounding was sickening. The poor creatures had been herded together down in the foul place, with less care for their health than if they had been cattle, while in the emergency of the slave captain's escape, they had been left to die.

But, horrible as the place was, Mark made a brave effort to master his dread and compunction. Risking attack from some one or other of the men who might very well have been infuriated by his wrongs, the young midshipman once more made an effort to seize one of the blacks and get him on deck. Watching his opportunity, he stepped boldly forward to where the crowd had shrunk back together, and again caught a man by the arm.

"Now, Tom Fillot," he cried, "help me."

The sailor seconded him well, but the poor wretch, in an agony of fear, made a desperate plunge, got free again; and at that moment, in alarm about his young officer's safety, Mr Russell sternly ordered him to come back on deck.

It was with a mingling of satisfaction and disinclination that the lad obeyed; and as they stood about the open hatch, Mr Russell said,--"We must give them time to find out that we are friends. This is my first experience, in spite of all our chasing, Vandean, and it is worse than I could have believed."

"Signal from the _Naughtyla.s.s_, sir," said Tom Fillot. "Yes; the captain is getting anxious. Here, Vandean, go back in the boat, and tell them the state of affairs."

"And leave you alone with these people? There must be fifty or a hundred down below."

"I shall have four defenders with me," said the lieutenant, quietly, "and you will be back soon with a reinforcement. We must get the poor wretches on deck, out of that loathsome den, or they will half of them be dead of fever in four and twenty hours."

"You wish me to go?" said Mark, hesitating.

"I order you to go, my lad," said the lieutenant, speaking sternly, but with a friendly light in his eye. "There, off at once."

Mark pa.s.sed over the side with half the boat's crew, and, feeling extremely uneasy about his officer's fate, had himself rowed back, and stated the case to the captain.

"Horrible!" he said. "Well, the men must be brought on board if the schooner is a fixture. Take back ten men with you, and tell Mr Russell to get out an anchor and see if he cannot haul off the vessel. If he cannot, the slaves must be brought on board, and the schooner burned."

"But how are we to get the men out of the hold, sir? They are frightened to death of us," said Mark.

"To be sure, yes. Try fair means, and if they do not answer, the poor wretches must be hoisted on deck with ropes. They will soon grow satisfied when they feel that we mean them no harm."

"But--I beg your pardon, sir," faltered Mark; "we cannot make them understand that we are friends."

"May I speak, sir?" cried Bob Howlett.

"Silence, sir; don't interfere," said Mr Staples, sternly.

"Oh, you lucky beggar," whispered Bob; "you get all the fun."

"Go back at once, Mr Vandean," said the captain. "You understand. Get the schooner off if possible. If not, bring the slaves on board, and the vessel is to be set on fire. Well, Mr Howlett, why are you making signs?"

"I beg pardon, sir, but I could make the slaves understand."

"_You_?"

"Yes, sir; I should take Soup and--I mean the two black fellows--and make them interpret."

"Of course; a capital idea, my lad; but--stop. How are you going to understand the men you would take?"

"Oh, I think I could manage that, sir," said Bob, importantly.

"Indeed?"

"Yes, sir. I am making a study of their language, and I've learned a few words and taught them."

"Take them with you in the boat, then, sir, by all means;" and Bob darted a triumphant glance at the first lieutenant, in ignorance of the fact that this gentleman was watching him, and met his look in a terribly stony fashion, which made Bob's face turn blank in the extreme.

To hide his confusion, he ran off forward, and, partly by signs, partly by hauling, he drew the two blacks to the waiting boat, into which they stepped willingly enough, and five minutes later the little party were on their way back to the schooner.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

A DIFFICULT TASK.

"Old Staples'll serve me out for this," cried Bob, merrily.

"Hallo! What's the matter? Don't stare in that solemn fashion."

"I was looking at the schooner," said Mark. "Mr Russell has so few men with him in case of a rising on the part of the blacks. He would be as good as helpless."

"As bad, you mean," cried Bob. "Oh, it's all right. The n.i.g.g.e.rs won't rise. They'd better!"

This was said so importantly that the men began to laugh; and as Bob turned upon them sharply, they grew preternaturally serious.

"I say, look at Soup and Taters," whispered Bob; "they're as pleased as children to have a ride. I shall make two clever sailors out of them before I've done."

Mark glanced at the two blacks, and saw that their faces were lit up as they rode over the glancing waters. Then turning to Bob,--

"That was a good idea of yours to bring them."

"Yes, I reckon that was a bright notion."