rman turned, stared, and Mike repeated as far as Vince
could make out his former question, while the captain stood a little way
back and looked on.

Just then Daygo growled out "No!" angrily, and thrust Mike away so
roughly that the boy staggered back and nearly fell; but before the old
man could reach the bulwark, Mike had recovered himself, leaped at him,
and delivered such a kick, that the pilot plunged forward half over the
bulwark, and then turned savagely to take revenge upon his assailant.
But the captain had advanced, and he said something sharply, which made
Daygo hurry over the bulwark and drop down into his boat. One of the
men cast off the rope and threw it after him, and the next moment she
was astern, with the old man standing upright, his hands to each side of
his mouth; and he bellowed out,--

"Yah! Good luck to you both! You'll never see this Crag agen."

Then the darkness began to swallow up his small boat, and the great
three-masted lugger glided onward--where?

Mike turned sharply, expecting to be seized by the captain; but the
latter had his back to him, and went forward to give orders for another
sail to be hoisted, while the boys went involuntarily to the side to
gaze at the Crag.

"What was it you asked Joe?" said Vince.

"Not what you thought," replied Mike rather bitterly.

"Why, what did I think?"

"That I was begging him to take me in the boat."

"No, I didn't," said Vince sharply. "I thought at first that you'd run
up to jump in, but directly after I said to myself that you wouldn't be
such a sneak. What did you say to him?"

"I told him my father would give him a hundred pounds, and that he
should never say anything to Joe, if he'd go and tell them directly
where we are."

"And he wouldn't. Well, I'm glad you kicked him, for shoving you away
like that."

"I should be," replied Mike, "if he wasn't such an old man."

"He isn't an old man," said Vince hotly: "he's an old wretch, without a
bit of manliness in him."

"All right, then; I'm glad I kicked him. But never mind Joe Daygo,
Vince. It's getting darker, and the old Crag is seeming to die away.
Oh, Cinder, old chap, is it all true? Are we being taken away like
this?"

Vince could not trust himself to speak, but leaned over the bulwark,
resting his chin upon his thumbs, and shading the sides of his face--
partly to conceal its workings, which was not necessary in the darkness,
partly to shut off the side-light a