The second lieutenant saluted, and the captain went forward to watch the schooner.

"Are you coming with me this time, Vandean?" said the lieutenant.

"Yes, I hope so, sir," said the lad.

"Hope, eh? Humph. You don't know what you are talking about, my lad."

"Please don't speak," said Mark, excitedly. "I've got it just right now. Look sir, look, there's a regular fight going on aboard. They're getting ready to pitch another man overboard."

The lieutenant raised the gla.s.s to his eyes, and immediately gave orders to the crew to stand ready. Then, following the midshipman's example, he fixed his gla.s.s upon the schooner, and watched her moonlit deck with its busy dark figures, in the full expectation of seeing another heavy splash.

But nothing more disturbed the surface of the water but the rush of the swift schooner, in whose wake lay what looked like an arrow-head of foam, as the lines diverged from each side of her sharp prow; and as they neared her the captain grew excited.

"She's going to heave to," he cried.

Just then a shot went skipping along the water, making the sea flash into silver at every dip, and sped right on in front of the schooner's bows, a messenger sufficiently faithful to warn the Yankee skipper of what would be the fate of his vessel if he did not strike his colours, for the man who aimed that shot could as easily have hulled the swift craft.

At the captain's words every eye was directed to the American flag which the skipper was disgracing, but it remained in its place as both vessels sped on, and a couple more shots were fired and sent through the main and foresails, which showed, with the aid of the gla.s.ses, a couple of black spots.

That was all.

"He's laughing at us," growled Mr Staples. "Oh, if we could send a few shots through his wretched craft!"

"And I dare not," cried the captain.

Just then Mark again caught sight of something which was taking place on the schooner's deck, not five hundred yards from where they pressed on in pursuit. It was hard to see at that distance, but he made out that a st.u.r.dy black was evidently renewing the struggle which had taken place before; but in spite of his efforts, he was being dragged to the side; then, to Mark's horror, a hand was raised and a blow struck, followed by a splash in the water, which was scattered far and wide, as the young midshipman closed his gla.s.s with his wet hands, feeling as if it had revealed horrors which he could not bear.

"First cutters!" rang out, and the lad ran to the boat; the captain repeated his orders to the second lieutenant as the _Nautilus_ was run on, so as to get as near as possible to the drowning slave before her speed was checked and her boat lowered. There, all ready in their seats, the boat's crew waited. The expected moment came as the sails shivered, the boat kissed the water, the falls were unhooked, and in an extremely short s.p.a.ce of time the _Nautilus_ was gliding on in full chase, and the cutter's oars were dipping in a quick, regular stroke which took them wide of the vessel's course, as she literally darted away.

And now, as he stood up once more on the thwart, to try and make out the head of the black cast overboard, it struck Mark for the first time that they were alone upon the wide sea, and that the _Nautilus_ was very rapidly increasing her distance, while the schooner, to his excited fancy, already began to look small.

But he had very little time for thinking.

"Be ready with that boathook," shouted the second lieutenant.

"Ay, ay, sir. Mustn't miss this one," muttered the speaker to himself.

"See him, Mr Vandean?"

"No, not yet, sir."

"You ought to, by now. Watch for the rippled water where he is swimming."

"That's what I am doing, sir," replied Mark, "but I can't see anything."

"He's floating, perhaps. Pull away, my lads. Steady; we don't want to pa.s.s him."

There was a few minutes' silence.

"See him now, Mr Vandean?" said the lieutenant again, and Mark was silent for a few moments, as he scanned the surface round from beneath his hand.

"No, sir, no sign of him."

"Oh, don't say that, my lad. Look, look. We mustn't miss the poor fellow. Strikes me that we're going to pick up the whole cargo this way. Now then, wasn't that a splash yonder?"

"No, sir, I can't see anything," said Mark sadly; and as he still eagerly scanned the surface amidst a breathless silence, only broken by the flapping of the water against the bows of the boat, it again struck Mark with a chill of awe that they were being left alone there; and he asked himself what would happen if the _Nautilus_ could not find them again.

This was momentary, for his attention was taken up by his search, and the officer said again, in angry impatience now,--"Come, Mr Vandean, where's this poor fellow? Here, lie to, my lads."

The men ceased rowing, and sat with their oars balanced, looking out on either side for some sign of the man overboard but there was none, and Mark heaved a deep sigh.

"Yes," said the lieutenant, as if that sigh were in words; "it's a bad case, my lad. I am afraid he's gone, poor fellow."

"Someone struck him before he went overboard," said Mark.

"You saw that?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then he has gone. We never saw him swimming. I'm afraid we must begin to row for the ship if we do not see him in a few minutes. She's leaving us a long way behind."

"I see him, sir," cried the c.o.xswain. "Here he is!"

He made a dash with his boathook, but the object he sought to reach was so far out, that he overbalanced himself and went in with a heavy plunge.

"You clumsy dog!" roared the lieutenant. "Back water port, pull starboard. That's it. Now then, in oars there, and lay hold of him."

The men on the port side obeyed, and in their excitement, three started up and reached out to seize their struggling comrade, who had hold of a black arm with one hand, and swam with the other.

"Now then, lay hold quick," roared the lieutenant.

"Mind! Take care!" shouted Mark.

The words were necessary, but useless, for as the men reached over and raised the c.o.xswain and his burden, the gunwale of the boat sank too low, there was a rush of water, and in what seemed like one beat of time the crew were all thrown out, and as they rose to the surface after an unexpected dive, it was to find the oars floating about, with straw hats here and there, and a couple of yards away the cutter lying bottom upwards.

Mark's first instinct as he caught sight of the glistening keel was to strike out and seize it, his next to look wildly round for help; and now he fully realised the fact that they were alone and in deadly peril, with the help that should have been at hand gliding rapidly away.

"Hi! help! your hand!" cried a choking voice close by; and instinctively Mark stretched out the asked-for help, to feel one hand seized and the other glide from the slippery keel. The next moment the water was thundering over his head.

CHAPTER FIVE.

A FIGHT WITH A BOAT.

Were you ever nearly drowned? Did you ever feel the sensation of the waves rushing and roaring over you, as if full of triumph at having captured a human being to drag down into their depths and devour?

It is to be hoped not, and that you never will be in such jeopardy as that in which Mark Vandean found himself as the pale, soft moonlight was suddenly shut out from sight, and he went down into the black darkness, too much startled and confused to grasp his position and make a calm, matter-of-fact attempt to save his life. He was conscious of receiving a kick, which sent him lower, and then of rising and striking his head against something hard.