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That was a question Mark was not prepared to answer, with two prizes on his hands. But Mark Vandean soon began to show the American slaving skipper what he meant to "dew now," and that in times of emergency he did not mean to talk much. For turning to Tom Fillot, he gave his orders respecting the slaver's crew.
"P'raps we'd best take it coolly, sir," said Tom Fillot, the second time, "or else put it off till after dark."
You are furnished with good strong jaws and fangs, I with weapons. Fear not. No one will venture to enter. So be still, Fillot! Lie down and keep quiet!" But so far from lying down and keeping quiet, the mastiff dropped his bone, stood up, and approaching the window where Yvon stood, barked louder still.
"You don't half try," said Tom Fillot, sitting down and getting an oar over the side to add his strength, when all pulled again, working hard for quite half an hour, when Mark called to them to stop. "Waste of strength, my lads," he said; "we've been drifting all the time." "Yes, sir," said Tom Fillot. "I knowed it and was only waiting for you to speak. Most too dark to see, but I'm 'bout sure."
"Mind, not a word when I've done, or we shall be heard aboard that vessel. She's not two hundred yards away." There was not a sound, and after waiting a few moments to command his voice and to try and stay the tumultuous beating of his heart, Mark went on, "My lads, that must be the schooner waiting, as Tom Fillot said." He paused again, for his words would hardly come.
"Shall we have it off now, sir, and nail down the hatch?" "No," said Mark; "two of you open the cable tier, and hand out the chain." "Again, sir?" whispered Tom. "Yes, man, quick!" Fillot and Stepney seized the chain and brought the end forward.
For the tones in which the boy officer spoke and his manner were sufficient to make him stand back against the bulkhead with his arms folded, as if waiting for his superior's orders, and patiently watching as Mark called what may be dubbed a council of war. The difficulty was to propose a plan of action, but Tom Fillot said cheerily: "Don't know that there's much difficulty about it, sir.
For there was a loud rattling of chain forward, and Mark looked inquiringly at the face of Tom Fillot, which was gradually growing plainer in the coming light. "They're a-hauling the chain cable out o' the cask, sir, and running it back into the tier. Hadn't we better make a try, sir, now they're busy?" "Yes. Now then, Fillot Bannock, open that hatch, and then follow me."
Two middies talking in the stern-sheets of the cutter belonging to Her Majesty's fast little cruiser Nautilus, stationed on the west coast of Africa "blackberrying," so the men called their duty, Tom Fillot, one of their jokers, giving as the reason that the job was "black and berry nasty."
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