ct
was going on, exciting the men so that they made another desperate
effort to get out; but the cabin entrance was too strong, and Mark ran
to the window.

"Can we reach the deck from here?" he cried in his excitement, feeling
as he did that the cause of the sounds was that the blacks were making
an effort on their behalf against their old enslavers, and that at any
cost they must get on deck and help.

Dragging open the cabin light, Mark began to climb out, but had just
time to avoid a blow from a heavy bar, struck at him by someone looking
over the poop, and evidently on guard there to keep them from reaching
the deck in that direction.

"Let me try, sir," said Tom. "I can dodge him, perhaps, and get up."

"Let's try together," said Mark; and looking up again, he could see that
there was only one man, a sour, sinister-looking fellow, who seemed to
take intense delight in his task.

"Wall," he shouted to them, "come on. Sharks is getting hungry, I
dessay."

His words sent a chill through Mark, and he hesitated as he thought of
the consequences of receiving a blow, losing his hold, and falling under
the schooner's stern, where, in all probability, one or two of the
savage fish were waiting for the unfortunate slaves who died and were
thrown out of such vessels from time to time.

This idea did not strike Tom Fillot, who got well out and was about to
climb up, when a blow came with a _whish_ within an inch of his head.

"Miss is as good as a mile," he said, coolly. "Here you, sir; it's rank
mutiny to resist the Queen's men. Put down that capstan bar and
surrender."

"Come up and take it away from me, mister," said the American, with a
laugh. "Wall, why don't you come on?"

"I'm a-coming," said Tom Fillot, "only that bar's a bit in my way.
Better lay it down, mate, for I get a bit nasty if I'm hurt, and if you
let me run my head again it, I might be in a passion, and chuck you
overboard."

"Oh, I shouldn't mind," said the American, laughing. "Come on."

Tom made a feint of climbing up, but there was another fierce blow at
him, and all the while quite a battle was raging somewhere on deck, the
sounds of blows and firing, with yells, oaths, and shrieks of agony
reaching their ears in a confused murmur.

"Come on, Tom," cried Mark, who was completely carried away by the
excitement, and half maddened by the knowledge that if they could make a
diversion, the schooner and its cargo might yet be saved.