arresting the man, for
he had evidently taken it that he was to play the part of executioner
upon the white skipper; while to judge from his aspect, he was prepared
to perform his part with great gusto. Then making the men understand,
he was about to despatch them over the side in one of the boats, when
the American turned obstinate.

"Look here, squaire," he said, "I give in, but yew're an officer and I'm
an officer. Play fair with a man. That nigger'll kill me sure as a gun
if I go along with him. Seems to me I shan't be safe 'less I'm along o'
you, so I guess I'll stop here."

Mark was about to insist, but a glance at Soup was sufficient to alter
his mind.

"Very well, stop for the present, sir, till I go back aboard."

"Yew're going back, then?" said the American, with a flash of the eye.

"I am, sir," said Mark, sharply, "but I'm going to leave a strong prize
crew here on board, and I wouldn't advise you or your men to make any
attempt at recapture. Matters might turn out, as you call it, `ugly.'"

"All right, squaire, but I don't see where your strong prize crew is
coming from," said the man, drily.

"Indeed!" said Mark. "I shall be able to show you. I can pick out
half-a-dozen blacks from the other schooner who will help the man
forward to keep pretty good watch over your crew, and who will not be
over particular if there are any tricks."

"Oh! slaves!" said the man, with a sneer.

"There are no slaves here, sir, now. Under the British flag all men are
free."

"Oh, if yew're going to talk Buncombe, squaire, I've done."

"And so have I, sir," said Mark, "for there is plenty of work wanting
me."

Leaving the American in charge of the big black, Mark set to at once to
make his arrangements, after the poor creatures had been let out of the
hold, where they had been nearly suffocated, and now huddled together on
deck, trembling and wondering what was to be their fate.

"I don't like parting with you, Tom Fillot," said Mark, "but I must.
You will take charge here with Billings, Dance, Potatoes, and three of
the blacks Soup drilled as his guard. It's a poor crew for you."

"Best we can do, sir," said Tom Fillot, cheerily.

"I'll have half the Americans on board with me."

"Beg pardon, sir, don't."

"But they are too many for you to have with your weak force."

"Well, sir, quite enough, but you keep the skipper on one schooner, and
the men on the other. They're best apart, sir."

"But yo