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But they soon subsided into an apathetic state, and watched. "Hurt much, Tom Fillot?" said Mark, as soon as excitement would let him speak. "Well, sir, tidy tidy. I was just thinking about some of our chaps aboard the Naughtylass, growling and grumbling at her for being an unlucky ship, and no fighting to be had. They wouldn't find fault if they was out here, sir, eh?"
"Right, even if we could manage that; and the survivors would be thrown back, worse off than we are now." "That's a true word, sir." "Well, you know what happened trying the cabin window?" "Yes, sir, I just do," said Tom, dolefully. "I thought Fillot AB's kit was for sale aboard the Naughtylass." "Then the door the hatch; what about that?" "Ah," said Tom, thoughtfully, "what about that?"
Dance the coxswain was the first affected in that way, but after a few moments Mark felt that the poor fellow had been suffering in a similar way to himself. For the man suddenly exclaimed "There! Did you hear that? A gun, lads. The Naughtylass is coming down on us with every stitch o' canvas on her."
"Yes; that's a bird's whistle," said Mark. "Then we can't be so very far from the shore." "That's right, sir, and what I hope is that we're not very far from the Naughtylass, and that they'll be at work with the spy-glasses to see where we are." "And I've got to face the captain," thought Mark, "and give him an account of our night's work. How shall I do it? It's horrible to go back like this."
"I thought at first it was the Nautilus." "No, sir; people on board the Naughtylass don't howl like that." "Then no: it can't be! Is it the slaver?" faltered Mark, as his heart beat rapidly with excitement. "It's she or another on the cowardly beggars," whispered Tom Fillot, hoarsely. "Don't make a sound, my lads." "But oh, it can't be," cried Mark, trembling now with eagerness.
Another heavy report seemed to strike the schooner again, as the smoke curled rapidly out of the cabin window, and Mark pressed to it, thrust out his head, and uttered a loud cheer. "Why no yes hooray!" roared Tom Fillot, as he caught a glimpse of something half a mile away, seen through the thick white smoke. "Cheer, lads, cheer! It's the Naughtylass just astarn."
"Now, then," cried Mark, "be ready for a rush either at the door or up through the skylight, in case the boats board. We can then take the Yankee between two fires." "Ay, ay, sir," cried Tom; "strikes me, begging your pardon, sir, as some of us aboard the Naughtylass is terrible bad shots. I want 'em to hit us forrard, o' course; not here."
We may have quite a breeze come with the sun, and soon after catch sight of the Naughtylass bowling down to us. For, trust me, they'll see us fast enough. Young Mr Bob Howlett'll be up at the masthead spying out with his glass, see if he ain't. Better have a sleep, sir." "No, man, no; I'm too ill and miserable to sleep." "Then if you won't mind, sir, and'll give me leave, I will have a snooze.
"No, sir; the doctor tackled him, and lifted up the bit o' broken bone, and made him a better man than ever; and that's what Mr Whitney'll do with Mr Russell, sir, as soon as we get back to the Naughtylass." "Oh, if we only could get back, Tom!"
That cable's heavy enough to keep them from opening the hatch." "Yes, sir; it's heavy enough, but I can't feel sure of 'em. These Yankees are such clever chaps. It's wonderful what dodges and tricks they can think of. I only wish the Naughtylass would heave in sight, and take charge of both schooners. The blacks are enough to take care on without a gang o' savage chaps like them below."
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