e shan't starve," said Vince, as they each gave the cook a nod
and walked as far forward as they could. "Captain hasn't a bad notion
about eating and drinking."

"And smuggling and kidnapping," said Mike bitterly.

"Kidnapping!" said Vince cheerily. "Ah, to be sure, that's the very
word: I thought something had been done to us that there's a proper word
for. That's it, Ladle--kidnapped. Yes, we've been kidnapped.--I say!"

"Well?"

"Look here: are we two chaps worth anything?"

"I don't feel to be now," said Mike; "I'm too miserable."

"Well, so am I miserable enough, but I suppose we must be worth
something, and that's why the skipper's going to feed us well."

"What nonsense have you got in your head now?"

"Nonsense? I call it some sense. For that's it, Ladle, as sure as you
stand there; he has kidnapped us, and he's going to take us right away
somewhere. Ladle, old chap, I feel as sure of it as if he'd told us.
It is all nonsense about making an end of us. I was sure it only meant
trying to frighten us; but we're two big, strong, healthy lads, and he's
going to take us right away."

"Do you mean it? What for?"

Vince looked sadly at his companion in misfortune for a few moments, and
then he said huskily,--

"To sell!"

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

PRISONERS, BUT NOT OF WAR.

Michael Ladelle was a good-looking lad, as people judge good looks; but
at that moment, as he stood with his hand resting on the bulwarks of _La
Belle-Marie_, he was decidedly plain, so blank and semi-idiotic did he
seem, with his eyes dilated, his jaw dropped and his brains evidently
gone wool-gathering, as people say, so utterly unable was he to
comprehend his companion's announcement.

Still it was only a matter of moments before he shut his mouth, and then
nearly closed his eyes, wrinkled up his face, and burst into a fit of
laughter, which, however, was of so hysterical a nature that for a time
he could not check it. At last, though, he mastered it sufficiently to
say,--

"To do what with us?"

"To sell," said Vince again, as he gazed sadly in his companion's face.

"To sell!" cried Mike, growing more calm now; and his voice had a ring
of contempt in it as he said,--

"Why, any one would think this was Africa, and we were blacks. What
nonsense!"

"It isn't nonsense," said Vince. "That man will do anything sooner than
have it known where his hiding-place is; and he won't kill us--he dares
not on account o