skipper;
and the mulatto's eyes grew as large as saucers, while his eyeballs
rolled in delight and his wide mouth extended itself from ear to ear.

"Bress de Lor'!" he cried out, with all a darkey's emphatic enthusiasm,
breaking into a huge guffaw that was almost hysterical--"bress de Lor'!
it's de massa; it's Mass' Vereker from de plantation, for surh!"

"Yes, it's me, myself, sure enough, Prout; and I'm right glad to see
you," said the colonel, equally delighted. "There, Senor Applegarth,
didn't I tell you any of my old Louisianian hands would like to see me
again, in spite of what I said about those infernal niggers who seized
our ship?"

"Aye, you did, colonel, you did," replied the skipper, waving his hand
in the air; "but never mind that now--I'm going to speak to the crew."

"Now, me bhoys, altogether," cried Garry O'Neil, looking over the top of
the booby-hatch over the companion-way, "three cheers for the cap'en,
horray!"

"Horray!" roared the lot below with a kindred enthusiasm, "Horray!
Horray!"

"We're almost within hail now of the chase, sir," sang out Mr Fosset
from the bridge when the echo of the last deafening cheer had died away;
"I'm going to slow down, so that we can sheer up alongside."

"That's just what I was waiting for," said the skipper in answer to
this. "Now, men, you see that ship ahead of us?"

"Aye," called out the foremost hand, who had before spoken--the usual
leader, and the wit of the fo'c's'le--"the ghost-ship, cap'en."

"Well, ghost-ship, devil-ship, or whatever she may be, my lads, we're
going to board her and rescue a young lady, a child in age, the daughter
of my friend, Colonel Vereker here, and a lot of white men like
yourselves, who are now at the mercy of a gang of black demons who have
murdered the rest of the passengers and crew and taken possession of the
vessel. Are you going to stand by me, lads?"

His answer was another deafening cheer, heartier and louder even than
the first.

"Ah, I thought I could reckon on your help," cried the skipper in a tone
of proud satisfaction, glancing round at the colonel. "I have got your
tools handy for you, too, my lads; and if you will come up to the poop
in single file by the port-ladder, going down again by the starboard
gangway, each shall be supplied in turn. Mr O'Neil, please serve out
the cutlasses and boarding-pikes. Now, my men, way aloft there! Single
file, and no crushing, mind, and we'll get the job done al