ees, like walking laurel stepping out into the golden ripples--Ah! I
should like to try my hand on the beauty of that afternoon; but we were
not allowed to admire it long, for we were far from being alone.

"She's changed her paint," said Tom, at my elbow. And, looking round, I
saw that our rakish schooner with the black hull was now white as a
dove; and, in that soft golden water, hardly a foot and a half deep,
five shadowy young sharks floated, with outstretched fins like huge
bats. Our engineer, who was already wading fearlessly in the water,
beautifully naked, "shooed" them off like chickens. But it was soon to
be evident that more dangerous foes waited for us on the shore.

Yet there was seemingly nothing there but a pile of sponges, and a few
black men. The _Susan B._ had changed her colour, it was true, but she
was a well-known sponger, and I noticed no one among the group ashore
that I recognised.

There was one foolish fellow that reminded me of my shackly deck-hand,
whom I had always thought out of his mind, standing there on his head on
the rocks, and waving his legs to attract attention.

"Why! There's Silly Theodore," called out the captain.

"Look out!" murmured Tom at my elbow.

"I'm going ashore all the same, Tom," I said.

"I'm going with you too," said the Captain. "You needn't be afraid of
me. You're the sort I like. But look after your guns. There's going to
be something doing--quiet as it looks."

So we rowed ashore, and there was Theodore capering in front of a pile
of sponges, but no other face that I knew. But there were seven or eight
negroes whose looks I took no great liking to.

"Like some fancy sponges to send home?" said one of these, coming up to
me. "Cost you five times as much in Nassau."

"Certainly I'd like a few sponges," I said.

And then Theodore came up to me, looking as though he had lost his mind
over the rather fancy silk tie I happened to be wearing.

"Give me dat!" he said, touching it, like a crazy man.

"I can't afford to give you that, Theodore."

"I'd die for dat," he declared.

"Take this handkerchief instead;" but, meanwhile, my eyes were opening.
"Take this instead, Theodore," I suggested.

"I'd die for dat," he repeated, touching it.

His voice and touch made me sick and afraid, just as people in a lunatic
asylum make one afraid.

"Look out!" murmured Tom again at my elbow.

And just then I noticed, hiding in some bushes of seven-year apple
trees