tics," he cried, stamping with rage.

The two midshipmen cast their eyes about them to assure themselves that
what was taking place was a reality; the whole scene appeared so like
some horrid dream that they could scarcely believe it true. As they
looked up they discovered that a strong breeze had sprung up, and that
the vessel was moving rapidly through the water. The deck was crowded
with seamen, many of whom held lanterns, so that the whole ship was
lighted.

"It is time to begin," cried the Don. "Come, as you will not choose for
yourselves, I must choose for you. Here, seize that lad and run him up
to the mainyard-arm."

He pointed at Adair. Several of the ruffian crew rushed forward and
seized poor Terence, and dragged him up to the rope which hung from the
yard-arm. They were about to take hold of it to adjust it round Adair's
neck, when down by it came gliding an apparition which, in the uncertain
light cast by the lanterns aloft, looked so like old Don Diogo himself,
that the superstitious Spaniards, believing that it was his wraith or
ghost, let go the rope and sprang back to the other side of the vessel.
The old Don was not less astonished than the rest, but not exactly
recognising himself, it occurred to him that some spirit of evil had
come on board to watch his proceedings. Queerface, meantime, for the
apparition was no other than him, seeing the confusion he had created,
shinned up the rope again, and on reaching the yard-arm, finding it
slack, hauled it up after him, and there he sat chattering away and
wondering what the strangers were going to do to his master. The wicked
old Don, though astonished at first, was not altogether overcome, and
soon recovering himself, began to get an idea of the true state of the
case. Once more he ordered the crew to go on with their cruel work, but
no one would venture aloft to overhaul the whip, and Queerface showed no
disposition to help them. The Don began to swear and stamp with rage,
calling them all by certain uncomplimentary epithets, in which the
Spanish language is so rich. The crew swore and abused him in return.
In the midst of the confusion a voice hailed them through a
speaking-trumpet.

"What schooner is that? Heave-to, or I will fire into you."

"We are in the hands of a set of bloody pirates. I'm Jack Rogers," sang
out Jack, at the top of his voice. Never had he sung out louder.

"Take that for speaking," exclaimed the little Don, leve