the darkness
around--black darkness to one who had just come out of the blazing
sunshine--and made a snatch at the arm of the man nearest to him in the
crowd.

He only held on for a moment, and then the arm was wrested free. He
seized another, speaking gently the while. The man uttered a yell of
horror, and struggled so fiercely, that Mark was fain to let go.

"We must get one on deck, Tom," cried Mark. "Lay hold of one as gently
as you can, and let's pull him up."

Tom Fillot seized the first he could distinguish in the herd of poor
cowering wretches, but this one, too, filled the foul air with his
piercing yells, and fought so hard to free himself, that Tom let go, and
stepped back below the hatch.

"They think we want to chuck 'em overboard, Mr Vandean, sir. I don't
know what to say to 'em. No good to tell 'em that under the British
flag they're free."

"Let's go and breathe for a few moments, Tom," said Mark, his voice
sounding as if he were half-stifled.

"I'd rather do that, sir, than have the best glass o' grog ever mixed,"
said the man.

"Now below there!" came from the hatch; "how are you getting on?"

Mark answered the question by stumbling up the ladder till he could put
his face over the combings of the hatch, and breathe the air blowing
over the vessel, Tom Fillot following suit.

"You look white as ashes, Vandean," said the lieutenant. "I had no
business to let you go down. But the men are not dangerous?"

"Like so many sheep," replied Mark, rather faintly; "but we could not
get one to come."

"Come out, and I'll go myself."

"No," said Mark, stoutly. "I have only half done my work. Come along,
Tom Fillot."

Before he could be stayed, he stepped down once more into the terrible
hold, where, his eyes growing now more accustomed to the darkness, he
began to make out eyes everywhere--glistening, starting eyes--all
apparently staring fiercely, and in a threatening way.

The whole scene was horrible, every surrounding was sickening. The poor
creatures had been herded together down in the foul place, with less
care for their health than if they had been cattle, while in the
emergency of the slave captain's escape, they had been left to die.
But, horrible as the place was, Mark made a brave effort to master his
dread and compunction. Risking attack from some one or other of the men
who might very well have been infuriated by his wrongs, the young
midshipman once more made an effort