his heart beating. Come here, Tom, and help me."

"I'll come, sir; but I can't help you, and it don't seem no use for me
to be waggling this 'ere oar about. Just as well let the tide send us
along."

There was the sound of the oar being laid along the thwart, and then of
someone stumbling.

"That was most nigh overboard, sir. Wish it warn't so dark. Why, it's
black. What's that?"

There was a creaking sound from a little distance, and the man
whispered,--

"They're making sail, sir, and they'll creep out afore morning, and get
right away."

"With those poor creatures on board."

"Just as we'd made 'em clean and comf'able, sir. Oh, my poor head!"

"Let's see to Mr Russell first, and then I'll bind up your head as well
as I can."

"How's one to see to Mr Russell, sir? Why, plagues o' Egypt's nothing
to darkness like this."

Mark bent over his brother officer, and passed his hand over his face
and head.

"He's not bleeding," he whispered, impressed as he was by the darkness
and their terrible position.

"More am I, sir, but I'm precious bad all the same. Don't s'pose any
one's bleeding, but they got it hard same as I did. Wood out here ain't
like wood at home. Oak's hard enough, but iron-wood's like what they
call it."

"Who is this?" said Mark, as, after gently letting Mr Russell's head
sink back, his hands encountered another face.

"I dunno, sir. It was every man for hisself, and I was thinking about
Tom Fillot, AB, and no one else. What's he feel like?"

"Like one of our men."

"But is it a hugly one with very stiff whiskers? If so be it is, you
may take your davy it's Joe Dance."

"How am I to know whether he's ugly?" cried Mark, petulantly.

"By the feel, sir. Try his nose. Joe Dance's nose hangs a bit over to
starboard, and there's a dent in it just about the end where he chipped
it agin a shot case."

"Oh, I can't tell all that," cried Mark--"Yes, his nose has a little
dent in it, and his whiskers are stiff."

"Then that's Joe Dance, sir."

"Avast there! Let my head alone, will yer?" came in a low, deep growl.

"That's Joe, sir, safe enough. Harkee there! Hear 'em?"

Sundry creaking sounds came out of the darkness some distance away now,
and Tom Fillot continued in a whisper,--

"They're hysting all the sail they can, sir. Look! you can see the
water briming as she sails. They're going same way as we. Tide's
taking us."

"Oh, Tom Fillot, I oughtn't to have gon