alone, Tom Fillot, who would have followed, being beaten back
along with the rest, till they stood against the bulwarks--that is,
those who could stand, three being down on their knees.

"Mr Vandean, sir--help! help!" roared Tom Fillot just in the nick of
time; and, striking out fiercely with his dirk, Mark returned to his men
and released poor Dance, who was one of the weakest, by giving his
assailant a sharp dig with the steel.

"Now, my lads, never mind the boy," cried the Yankee skipper; "over with
them."

The men, who had drawn back for the moment, made a rush at Tom Fillot,
seized him, there was a short struggle, a loud splash, and the schooners
men had got rid of the most vigorous of their assailants.

A shout and another heave, and Dance had gone. Then Dick Bannock, who
kicked and cursed like a madman, was swung up and tossed over. The rest
followed, and, with his back to the bulwarks and his dirk advanced, Mark
stood alone upon the deck, last of the gallant little crew, knowing that
his turn had come, but ready to make whoever seized him smart for the
indignity about to be put upon a British officer, even if he were a boy.

"Bah! rush him," roared the captain, and Mark had time for two blows at
his assailants, whom he could now see clearly from where he had run
right to the bows, for a flood of moonlight softly swept over the scene.

Then as he struggled hard with the men cursing and buffeting him with
their fists, there came a loud, wildly appealing cry, as it seemed to
him, from the hold where the poor blacks were confined; and it was with
a bitter feeling of despair at his being unable to help them, that Mark
made his last effort to free himself. The next moment he was jerked out
from the side of the schooner, fell with a tremendous splash in the
swiftly-running tide; there was a flashing as of silver in the
moonbeams, then black darkness, and the thunder of the rushing waters in
his ears.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

UNEXPECTED ALLIES.

"Here, hi! Look-out, lads! Where's our orficer?"

These words greeted Mark Vandean as, after a few struggles, his head
shot up from the black water into the bright moonlight, and, giving it a
good shake, he struck out for the boat.

The cold plunge had braced him up, clearing away the brain mists caused
by exhaustion in the fight; and now once more he was himself, ready to
save his own life, and think, as an officer should, about his men. Of
course his first