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Updated: June 24, 2025
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."
Five pounds of gunpowder! Plenty to bring destruction upon all within the cabin, as well as knock out the door and hatch beyond. "There we are, sir," said Tom Fillot, seeking for a box of matches and coolly taking one out. "Now we'll all lie down together when you think it's a good time, and keep our heads close to the floor.
"I can't see no orficers, messmate," said the same voice. "That'll do, Bob Stepney. That's cheek. Tim Dunning." "That's me." "All here, sir, and able to use their tongues. Fisties, too, I dessay." "The two blacks!" said Mark, quickly, and with a feeling of thankfulness to find matters so far well. "Ay, ay, sir. Thought I'd give the white uns a chance first," said Tom Fillot.
Lanterns were lit, the blacks went below without being told, and the business of the schooner already began to work as orderly as if it had been turned into a man-o'-war. The men examined their arms, Mark and Tom Fillot looked to their pistols, and the darkness was met with every precaution for the safety of the ships and crew.
"That was not the explosion. I I stopped it." "You stopped it, sir," cried Tom Fillot, as he kept on passing his hands over Mark's garments to press out a few sparks which lingered there. "Yes, of course. Didn't you hear what that was?" "Course I did, sir, though I was down on my face with my fingers in my ears. It went off well. Come on, the door must be down."
Mark glanced at their companions, who had been unheeded during their earnest conversation, and could see that his lieutenant's words were correct. "Let's lie down, then;" and, setting the example, his mind was so utterly weary, and yet so much at peace, that he was soundly asleep in less than five minutes, Tom Fillot in two.
"Mr Vandean, sir help! help!" roared Tom Fillot just in the nick of time; and, striking out fiercely with his dirk, Mark returned to his men and released poor Dance, who was one of the weakest, by giving his assailant a sharp dig with the steel. "Now, my lads, never mind the boy," cried the Yankee skipper; "over with them."
"And was that all?" "No, sir; for I heered the skipper say, `Anyone been in the cabin? And when no one spoke he began to cuss 'em for a set o' idgits, and they all went below with the lanthorn, and come up again along o' you. My word, Mr Vandean, sir, how you must have slep'!" "Oh, Tom Fillot!" cried Mark again. "Yes, and it is `Oh, Tom Fillot, sir," groaned the poor fellow.
Grote started back into wakefulness at the sound and sprang to his feet, on guard with his cutlass, while Tom Fillot fully uncovered the lantern, and held it up right in the man's face, the light gleaming on the weapons they held. "Yes, you're a nice 'un, you are," growled Tom Fillot, "Look at that. Where should we have been in another hour if we'd trusted to you?"
"But I've altered my plans," said Mark, thoughtfully. "Yes, sir? What do you mean to do now?" "I'll tell you. It seems to me madness, after this lesson in the American's intentions, to divide my little crew. I want them altogether, and we're weak enough then." "Don't say you mean to give up the prize, sir," cried Tom Fillot, appealingly. "Not while I can lift a hand, Tom. We'll try another plan.
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