by consequence comparatively helpless--and he had been doing his
best to get to the others, who had paddled feebly and then thrown up
their hands to grasp wildly at vacancy, so that the case began to look
hopeless indeed.

For, failing in his efforts to scull the boat along with one oar, and
evidently getting confused in his excitement, the uninjured man now sat
down on a thwart and got two oars over the side to begin to row to where
a drowning man lay, fully a dozen yards from him.

"Gone!" cried Tom Fillot, excitedly, as the boat was pulled to the place
where the man had made a last feeble struggle and then sunk.

Mark drew a deep breath, and uttered a faint groan, as the sailor stood
up in the boat, hitcher in hand, looking wildly about.

A volley of cries now came from the poop, just over where the prisoners
were watching. Words of advice, orders, abuse, were hurled at the man's
head, and Mark, as he watched, thought of his efforts in the cutter to
save the blacks' lives, and it seemed to him like a natural form of
retaliation coming upon the slavers' heads, as history almost repeated
itself, with a difference.

He was, he felt, spectator of a tragedy, and a cold sensation of horror
almost paralysed him, but passed away instantly as he saw the man
standing in the boat suddenly make a dash with the hook and draw
something toward him.

There was a cheer from the cabin window, as the boat careened over, and
the nearly drowned man was dragged in.

"Say, messmates," said Tom Fillot, rubbing one ear, "that can't be
right."

"What, Tom?" cried Mark, excitedly.

"Why, sir, our cheering at an enemy being saved. We ought to be glad to
see him drown, oughtn't we?"

"It was the man, not the enemy, Tom," said Mark.

"Course, sir. I see now; I couldn't make out why we cheered."

And now the little party noted for the first time that the vessel they
were in had been gliding steadily on, trailing the divided tow-rope, and
being lightened of her burden, was now far-away from the boat, while the
second schooner, having one sail set, had also glided away. Then a
second sail was hoisted a little, and the helm being seized, her course
was altered so as to send her to the west.

"Hurrah!" cried Mark, forgetting the officer in the elation of the boy.
"Joe Dance will not let the Yankees overhaul him now. Look, he's
getting the blacks to help haul up the mainsail. Then that prize is all
right," he added, with a sigh o