"Down, George!" came a voice of thunder. "I'm going through."

There was a flash in the moon; the smothered crack of a pistol; and a furious tumble of men aft.

"Gor! they're knifin him!"

"Their own skipper!"

"That's the Gap Gang!" rose in a groaning chorus from the bows of the sloop.

IV

Splash followed splash.

The crew of the lugger were jumping for the long-boat.

The moon shone down mildly on savage waters, and a tumult of men.

All about the boat was a fury of fighting. Some were in it, some in the water. Those within were slashing at the hands of those scrambling in.

Every man was for himself, and every man against his neighbour. They fought like beasts, beasts who could blaspheme.

Sin seen naked! Sin and its consequences!

Death-screams; bellowed blasphemies; howls for mercy rose as from the pit.

"No room!--It's me, Joe!--Too many aboard!--Knife the ----!--I'm done!--Elp us up!--Don't, George!"

Out of the torment of howls, oaths, prayers, came again the ghastly-screaming treble.

"Cut the painter!"

A boy, the last on the lugger, afraid before to trust the water, jumped now.

"Don't leave Jacky!" spluttered the thin boy's voice, tearful and terrified; as the little shaven head bobbed up by the boat.

"Ands off!" screamed the treble. "We're sinkin a'ready. What, you little ----! then ave it! ave it! ave it!"

A shrill squeal and then again that ghastly-screaming treble--

"Row, ye ----, row!"

Silence; tumbling waters; and the moon, sick with horror, darkened suddenly.

CHAPTER VII

THE MAN IN THE LUGGER

I

The lugger came bowling on, one man in her stern.

"Diamond's bested em!" rose in a roar from the _Tremendous_.

And so it seemed.

The _Kite_ was making straight for the sloop, plunging giddily, as though wounded.

"All hands aloft!" roared old Ding-dong. "Back tops'ls!"

There was a scamper of feet along the deck; and up the shrouds a scurry of dark figures. Above was ordered bustle; from the deck a sounding voice ruled all, as G.o.d rules the world.

"Canst use a pistol, lad?"

The words, swift as hail, smote Kit's ear.

"I don't know, sir," babbled the boy, sick with excitement.

A minute back h.e.l.l had yawned, and he had peeped in. He was still aghast.

"Then find oot!" fierce as a sword. "Joomp into t'mizzen-chains, and pick off yon chap at the helm, as he cooms under ma counter."

He thrust a pistol into the boy's hands.

How limp the lad felt beside this masterful old man!

In another moment he was standing in the chains, the dark and giddy waters swirling beneath him. The blood thumped in his temples.

Was it to be his St. Vincent? his chance?

The lugger came tearing up. He could hear the swish of the waters, white at her foot; he could see the wet sail, the bucketing bows, the fore-deck awash. She would pa.s.s bang beneath his feet. He could see no man at the helm--only the jumping bowsprit, the thrashing foot, and that huge lug-sail, bellying over the water.

Suddenly his mind flamed. In the white glare of it he saw the thing to do, and had done it, before cold reason could check him.

He jumped.

The boat and giddy waters rose up to meet him. He fell as on to a mattress, full of wind. It was the lug-sail he had struck. Down it he sprawled to the deck, there to find himself upon his hands and knees, something soft beneath him.

One man was in the boat; and that man was staring him in the face.

There was no mistaking him. He was black, with diamond eyes. The moon was on his face; and about his lips a queer snarling smile.