llot, respectfully, "is as no
one seems to have been killed."

"But we don't know that," said Mark, sharply. "Tired as I was when I
lay down last night, I couldn't sleep for thinking of those men. Do you
think they could reach the shore?"

"Reach the shore, sir! Why not? What was to prevent 'em?"

"Some of them were half-stunned when they were dashed overboard."

"Then the water would make 'em come to, sir, and freshen 'em up. Don't
you wherrit yourself about that, sir. I saw 'em all swimming for the
bank, and they'd get there before the crocks woke up to try for 'em."

"Crocodiles?"

"Oh yes, sir, I should think there'd be plenty of them in the river:
sure to be in a hot country like this."

"I wish I could feel sure they were safe."

Tom Fillot's look at the young officer was a mingling of admiration and
contempt.

"It's very nyste of you, sir, to think so much about the enemies as
nearly killed our Mr Russell, I didn't think nothing o' them. I was
hard at it about our poor chaps as has been knocked about, and the way
they bear it all without hollering is, I says, sir, a credit to a
Englishman, let alone a Scotchman such as Dick Bannock is. As I says
afore, it's wonderful as none of us was killed, being whacked over the
head as we was, 'sides being nigh drownded."

"It was wonderful, Tom, and if only poor Mr Russell would come round, I
should be as happy as could be. But he doesn't show a sign of
recovery."

"No, sir, he don't, but there's the t'other side o' the book in keeping
account like--he don't show no sign o' getting worse and dying. You
know what's the matter with him, o' course?"

"Matter?" said Mark, looking at the man wonderingly, as the schooner
glided along, a mile away from the coast, the evening after their
struggle in the river. "Of course I do. He was beaten about the head
worse than any of us."

"'Zactly, sir; but did you examine on him?"

"Yes, and retied the bandage about his head."

"That's good, sir; but you didn't find out quite what was the matter."

"I thought I knew enough."

"Yes, sir, but I did examine him when you sent me below to see how he
was, and I found out."

"What?" cried Mark, eagerly.

"Well, sir, he's got the same as an old messmate o' mine had in my last
ship--the _Foogoose_."

"The what?"

"_Foogoose_, sir."

"Oh, the _Fougueux_."

"That's her, sir. Well, we was up aloft shortening sail on a rough day,
and Micky missed the stirrup j