golden
water; but instead of going and perching himself somewhere to take part
in the sport, Bob Howlett hung about the chair of his brother middy.

"Why don't you go and join in the fishing, Howlett?" said Mr Russell.

"Oh, I don't know," he said. "It'll be quite dark directly, and I was
wishing, sir, for something to happen to make me an invalid."

"Because you have such an affection for Doctor Whitney's doses?" said
Mark, laughing.

"No, so you needn't make nasty remarks," replied Bob. "I thought so,
because middies who have been a little out of sorts get all kinds of
attentions, and those who are quite well get bullied by first
lieutenants, and are spoken to by captains as if they weren't worth
their salt, as Mr Staples calls it."

"I shall have to report Mr Robert Howlett's insubordinate language,"
said Mark's fellow-invalid, when all at once there came a cry of rage,
followed by a loud shouting somewhere forward. Then more cries, and
confusion, and directly after there was a desperate scuffle going on by
the forecastle hatch.

"What's that?" cried the first lieutenant; and in a few minutes, after a
desperate fight, the two blacks were dragged forward, pushed by four of
the men, and held by main force while the captain, who had hurried on
deck, called for an explanation.

This was given by a dozen voices at once, but in obedience to a command
there was silence, in which the heavy panting breathing of the blacks
could be plainly heard.

"Now then," said the captain, "one man speak. You, Dance, step forward.
What does this mean?"

"Beg pardon, sir," said the coxswain of the first cutter; "some of the
lads got skylarking and playing tricks with the two black hands."

"_Who_ did?" said the captain, sternly.

"Beg pardon, sir, didn't see, sir, but it made the two niggers wild, and
one got a knife and the other a marlin-spike; and if they hadn't been
held there'd ha' been murder done, and--"

"Man overboard!" was yelled from right forward where the fishing had
been going on, and following a loud splashing from just beneath the
ship's counter came that most thrilling of cries to send the blood
coursing back even from the strongest man's cheek.

"Boat, boat--Help--help!"

In tropic waters just as the sun had sunk below the horizon, and the
rapid darkness was coming on.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

DANCE MAKES MISTAKES.

"He's tangled with the line," came in a clear voice, which Mark
recognised as Bob's