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Updated: June 25, 2025
Light came at last, piercing the white fog in which they lay; and in a short time they were back in the wide river, close to the sea, dejected, weary, and wondering that they could have been so confused in the darkness. "Nice wigging we shall have, Vandean," said the lieutenant; "the skipper will sarcastically tell me he had better have sent one of the ship's boys in command.
But in the name of all that's horrible, how did you come in this state?" "State, sir?" said Mark, who had for the moment forgotten his injuries. "My dear boy, yes; why, you haven't a bit of hair on face or head, and you're black as a negro." "I'd forgotten, sir. It was the powder." "Powder! an explosion?" "Yes, sir; no, sir." "Mr Vandean," cried the lieutenant, "do you want to aggravate me?"
The next minute he, too, was sleeping heavily, for nature was building them all up again ready for the struggles yet to come. A heavy bang as of a closing door made Mark Vandean start up and strike his head against a piece of wood a blow which for the moment increased his confusion. Where was he? What had happened? No answer came, but there was a question from out of the darkness.
"What are you going to do about about that?" he whispered. "Get the poor creature on board if we can," was the reply; and the young midshipman could not help shuddering. "It is what we were sent to do, Vandean," continued the officer, "and we must do our duty. Now, my lads," he cried, "all of you over here, and let's right the boat."
"Now then, out you come." Mark Vandean did come out of the bunk in remarkably quick time, but he was still confused, and his brain refused to solve the puzzle before him, so he, to use a familiar expression, pulled himself together.
"There, you are only floundering about, young gentleman, and making worse of it," said the doctor, gruffly. "Wait a bit; you will be laid by the heels one of these days, and then you will sing a very different song. But you are a wonderful deal better, Vandean, and I congratulate you. I shall not have to ask for you to be sent home." "Oh yes, I'm much better, sir," cried Mark.
"The lads will think all this unnecessary, Vandean," said the lieutenant in a low voice, as Mark sat by his side; "but it would be horribly un-English to leave the poor wretch floating at the mercy of the waves. He was free enough, poor fellow, before we shaded him with the British flag. What would you have done?" "As you have, sir," replied the lad.
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.
He is not hurt; it is the other black. Stand fast, my lads, in case the poor wretches attack. Now, then, where are you hurt?" This was to the second black sailor, whose white duck shirt was horrible with stains of blood, as he began to talk fast now and point forward. "Wounds must be slight," cried the lieutenant. "Can you make out a word of what he says, Vandean?" "No, sir; but let me try."
"Well, what do you make of it?" said Mr Russell. "I know, sir," cried Bob Howlett; "he wants you to understand that if we take them and make sailors of them, they'll kill all the slavers." "Thank you, Mr Howlett. Now, then, Mr Vandean, what do you say?" "I see now," cried Mark, eagerly. "What happened below helps me.
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