oor
creatures below are suffocating."

As he spoke, he caught up one of the axes from where it lay, an example
followed by Mark, and they struck off the fastenings which held down the
hatches close by where they stood.

The horrible sounds ceased at the first blow of the axe, and a deathly
silence succeeded, followed by a low, deep, murmuring roar.

"Stop!" cried Mr Russell. "Stand by, lads, and be prepared. The poor
wretches may not know friends from foes."

The next minute the hatch was thrown up, and there was a fearful rush,
not that for which they had prepared, but one perhaps worse. The
wretched blacks crowded down in the stifling hold were too much cowed by
the brutality from which they had suffered to dare then to raise a hand;
and, instead of making a dash for liberty as anticipated, they waited in
expectation of death being the portion of the man who first reached the
opening.

The boat's crew shrank away from the hatch, driven back by the rush of
poisonous air of so fearful an odour that the lieutenant turned ghastly
as he cried,--"Oh, horror! how can the poor creatures exist?" How
indeed? Relief had only come in time. The captain of the schooner had
probably intended to pretend that he had no slaves on board, but had
altered his mind and fled after the poor wretches had been shut down;
and, without doubt, if they had been unable to break out to the deck, in
less than an hour not a soul would have been left alive.

"Here, Vandean," cried Mr Russell, "we must risk their attacking us,
and have them on deck. How are we to make them understand? Hi! below
there! Come up into the fresh air."

But there was no reply, save a stifled moan or two.

"Volunteers," cried the lieutenant. "Two men to go down and bring one
of the poor wretches up. We can show him that we mean well, and then he
can act as interpreter."

For a few moments no one spoke, and Mr Russell cried:--"I know it's a
terrible task, my lads. Who'll come with me?"

"No, with me," said Mark, quickly; and he stepped to the mouth of the
noisome pit.

"Oh, I'll go with you, Mr Vandean, sir," cried Tom Fillot; and without
a word Mark drew a deep breath, stepped in on the ladder, and descended,
the light being shut out directly by the sailor.

The heat was awful, and after holding his breath till he reached the
bottom, at the first inspiration Mark felt giddy and sick; but making a
brave effort, he took a step forward, trying to pierce