"Help him down below," said Mark, and two of the men lifted the poor fellow to his feet and then helped him down to the place prepared for the crew close to the skipper's cabin.

"He'll come round again, sir," said Tom from the wheel. "Spoke or two loose in his steering gear, that's all. Lucky I got to him in time, or we should have been ash.o.r.e hard and fast."

"Was that on a sandbank we struck?" said Mark.

"Yes, sir, twice over; and if the masts had gone it would have been all over with us. But plenty of sail on and a nice breeze helped us to sc.r.a.pe off, though my heart was in my mouth all the time."

"The schooner must be wonderfully well-built, Tom."

"Well-built and ill built, sir. First as to timbers, second as to use, sir. Why, some of our merchant craft would have been shook to pieces like one o' them card houses as we used to build when we was little ones."

That morning, as they were sailing on over the calm waters, rising and falling slowly to the gentle Atlantic swell, it seemed hard to believe that they had been so near wreck only a few hours before. But Mark had only to turn his eyes eastward to where the great billows broke upon the sh.o.r.e, making a chaos of foaming, tumbling waters, to be convinced of the danger they had escaped.

The blacks soon forgot the scare, and lay basking about on deck perfectly happy, and ready to smile at the crew; and, saving a few cuts and bruises, which did not show, apparently very little the worse for their encounters. The swellings, too, on board the prize crew, to use Tom Fillot's way of expressing it, had diminished rapidly. A little too rapidly, Tom said.

"You see if we've got no marks to show the officers and men, they won't believe we've been in so much trouble, sir. My heye! wouldn't the skipper have given it to you, Mr Vandean, if you'd took us back without this craft."

Mark had plenty of anxieties to cope with. So long as the weather kept fine, he had no great difficulty about the navigation. There was the low-lying sh.o.r.e, two or three miles on their starboard bow, and as far as was possible this distance was kept to. Provision on board was ample; the water-casks had been well filled, and even if the store of this prime necessity had failed there would have been no great difficulty in running up one or other of the rivers for a fresh supply.

As to the blacks, the hours glided on, and there was very little to disturb Mark's confidence. The two sailors--Soup and Taters--paraded the deck forward with a great show of authority, to which their unclothed fellow-countrymen submitted with a very excellent grace; and it was evident that there was nothing to fear from them.

"They're rum sort of beggars, sir," Tom said.

"Why, Tom?"

"Well, sir, I ain't good at explaining what I mean, but it seems to me like this:--Give them enough to eat and drink, and plenty of sunshine to lie about in, that's about all they want."

"Yes, Tom, they're soon satisfied."

"That's so, sir, and they don't seem to have no memories. You'd think they'd all be fretting to get away ash.o.r.e, and back home; but look at 'em: they don't, and it seems to me that they're not troubling themselves much about to-morrow or next day neither."

The young sailor appeared to be quite right, for hour by hour as the horrors of the slaver's hold grew more remote, the little crowd of blacks forward appeared to be more cheerful.

Mark's great trouble was the state of Mr Russell, who still lay calmly enough either below in the Yankee skipper's cot, or under an awning the sailors had rigged up on the deck. He ate and drank mechanically, but made not the slightest sign when spoken to, and for his sake Mark kept every st.i.tch of sail on that the schooner could bear, so as to reach medical a.s.sistance as soon as possible.

Dance was decidedly better, but subject to fits of absence; and on these occasions Tom Fillot said he was mad as a hatter.

But in spite of the anxieties and the terrible feeling of responsibility, Mark found something very delightful in being the captain for the time being of the smart schooner which sailed swiftly along at the slightest breath of wind. There was the hot, hazy sh.o.r.e on his right, and the glistening sea on his left, an ample crew which he could recruit if he liked from the blacks, and all ready to obey his slightest order with the greatest alacrity. He felt at times as if he would be glad to sight the _Nautilus_, and so be relieved of all his cares; but, on the other hand, he could not help feeling that he would be sorry to give up and return to the midshipman's berth.

"I wish, though, that Bob Howlett was here," he said to himself, as he longed for a companion of his own age and position.

"I don't know, though," he said, directly after. "If Bob were here, he would not like to knuckle under and play second fiddle. Well, I shouldn't either. Perhaps it's best is it is, I'm captain, and can do as I like, only it isn't always nice to do as one likes, and I often feel as if it would be much nicer to have some one to order me."

But there was no one to order him, and with the whole responsibility upon his shoulders, he for the first time in his life began to realise what it meant to be the captain of a ship, answerable for everything thereon.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

A HORRIBLE THOUGHT.

Two days glided by, during which Tom Fillot proved himself to be invaluable. The merry joker of the ship's company showed that he possessed plenty of sound common sense, and that he was an excellent seaman. Thrown, too, as he was, along with his young officer, he never presumed thereon, but, evidently feeling how great a burden there was on the lad's shoulders, he did all he could to lighten the load, by setting a capital example to his messmates of quick obedience, and was always suggesting little bits of seamanship, and making them seem to emanate from Mark himself. The consequence was that matters went in the most orderly way on board, and they steadily kept on north, north-west, or sometimes due west, according to the trend of the land.

"Easy enough thing, sir, navigation," Tom said, merrily, "if you've got nice calm weather, no rocks or shoals, and a fair line of coast to steer by."

"Yes, it's easy enough now, Tom," replied Mark.

"'Tis, sir; only I should like it better if it was right up in the north, where the sun don't set. One can't help feeling a bit scared sometimes when it's very dark. I was nearly coming las' night and asking leave to let go the anchor."

"If I get well out of this, Tom," said Mark, "I mean to study up my navigation. It's horrible to be so helpless. I'm ashamed, too, being in charge here, and obliged to trust to seeing the sh.o.r.e for a guide."

"Oh, that'll all come, sir, but it strikes me that as soon as the captain finds we don't get into port, he'll be sailing down after us."

"The sooner the better, Tom," said Mark. "But now then, tell me: how are we off for water?"

"Plenty yet, sir, and there's enough prog--beg pardon, sir, wictuals--to last us for some days; and--look, sir, look. Here's a chance."

"What? Where?" cried Mark, startled by the man's excitement.

"Another slaver coming round the point there. You must take that one too, sir, and then you can go into port with flying colours. Double flying colours, sir!"

Mark looked eagerly at the long, low vessel just creeping into sight in the distance, and his follower's words inspired him with an intense desire to act and make a second seizure. It was very tempting, but-- Yes, there was a but, a big but, and a suppose in the way. His men were still anything but strong; and though the blacks were willing enough, it would not be wise to trust to them for help in an attack upon a vessel with possibly a strong crew.

His musings were interrupted by the sailor.

"Shall I alter our course, sir?" he said.

"No, Tom. Better not," replied Mark. "I was thinking."

"What about, sir--our being able to catch her?"

"No; about the dog and the shadow."

"What about him, sir? Was he in the sun?"

"You know the old fable about the dog with the piece of meat in his mouth, seeing his reflection in the stream and thinking it was another dog with a piece of meat."

"I did once, sir, but I've forgot," said Tom.

"Well, in his greediness he snapped at his shadow to get the other piece of meat, and dropped his own. Suppose I try to catch that other vessel and the crew prove too strong for me, and I lose this one?"

"Mr Vandean, sir! You a British orficer, and talk like that? It ain't greediness, sir, but you a-trying to do your dooty as the orficer as has succeeded Mr Russell, I know what you feel, sir--all the 'sponsibility."

"Yes, Tom; and that we are not strong enough to try experiments."

"Strong enough, sir? Why, there's that in our chaps now as'll make 'em go through anything. You say slaver to 'em, and it'll be like saying 'rats' to a dog. They'll be vicious to attack; and old Soup and Taters'll be as good as four strong men. You see if they ain't."

"It's very tempting, Tom, but--"