lowed was of no interest to
David, nor to many of the filibusters, nor to any of the Cuban patriots.
Their groans of self-pity, their prayers and curses in eloquent Spanish,
rose high above the crash of broken crockery and the pounding of the
waves. Even when the search-light gave way to a brilliant sunlight the
circumstance was unobserved by David. Nor was he concerned in the
tidings brought forward by the youth in the golf cap, who raced the
slippery decks and vaulted the prostrate forms as sure-footedly as a
hurdler on a cinder track. To David, in whom he seemed to think he had
found a congenial spirit, he shouted joyfully, "She's fired two blanks
at us!" he cried; "now she's firing cannon-balls!"

"Thank God," whispered David; "perhaps she'll sink us!"

But _The Three Friends_ showed her heels to the revenue cutter, and
so far as David knew hours passed into days and days into weeks. It was
like those nightmares in which in a minute one is whirled through
centuries of fear and torment. Sometimes, regardless of nausea, of his
aching head, of the hard deck, of the waves that splashed and smothered
him, David fell into broken slumber. Sometimes he woke to a dull
consciousness of his position. At such moments he added to his misery by
speculating upon the other misfortunes that might have befallen him on
shore. Emily, he decided, had given him up for lost and
married--probably a navy officer in command of a battle-ship. Burdett
and Sons had cast him off forever. Possibly his disappearance had caused
them to suspect him; even now they might be regarding him as a
defaulter, as a fugitive from justice. His accounts, no doubt, were
being carefully overhauled. In actual time, two days and two nights had
passed; to David it seemed many ages.

On the third day he crawled to the stern, where there seemed less
motion, and finding a boat's cushion threw it in the lee scupper and
fell upon it. From time to time the youth in the golf cap had brought
him food and drink, and he now appeared from the cook's galley bearing a
bowl of smoking soup.

David considered it a doubtful attention.

But he said, "You're very kind. How did a fellow like you come to mix up
with these pirates?"

The youth laughed good-naturedly.

"They're not pirates, they're patriots," he said, "and I'm not mixed up
with them. My name is Henry Carr and I'm a guest of Jimmy Doyle, the
captain."

"The barkeeper with the derby hat?" said David.

"He's not