de up my mind that if, as I
fully expected, Captain Mendouca had run alongside that ship this
afternoon, I would board with the rest, and then join the British crew
in their defence of their own ship."

"It's perhaps just as well then for you, sir, and for me too, that
matters was arranged different," answered Simpson; "because, if the
thing had come off as you planned it, I don't suppose that your joinin'
of the other side would have made that much difference that they'd have
beat off the skipper and his lot; and if they hadn't, and you'd fallen
alive into the hands of the skipper, he'd have--well, I don't know what
he wouldn't have done to you; but I'm mortal sure that you wouldn't have
been alive now. But perhaps, sir, you've been thinkin', as I have, that
even now it mayn't be too late to do somethin'."

"Yes," said I, "I have. While you have been talking to me a multitude
of ideas have thronged through my mind, disconnected and vague,
certainly, but still capable perhaps of being worked into shape. And I
do not mind admitting to you, Simpson, that your proposal to join me in
any attempt that I may be disposed to make simplifies matters a great
deal. The most important factor in the problem before us is: How will
yonder ship be dealt with when the _Francesca's_ people have done with
her? Will she be destroyed, or will she be left, with those unfortunate
passengers--most probably with no knowledge whatever of nautical
matters--to drift about at the mercy of wind and sea, to take her chance
of being fallen in with, or to founder in the first gale of wind that
happens to come her way?"

"No, sir, no," answered Simpson. "You may take your oath that Captain
Mendouca won't run the risk of leavin' her afloat to be picked up and
took into port, where her passengers could tell what tales they liked
about him and his doin's. She'll be scuttled, sir, and left to go down
with all them passengers in her, the same as that unfortunit' Portugee
brig was that we took the slaves out of. But I've been thinkin', sir,
that, even so, two sailor-men, like you and me, might do a good deal,
with the help of the gentlemen passengers, to put together some sort of
a raft that would hold all hands of us and keep us above water until
somethin' comes along and picks us up. Of course I knows quite well
that it'll be a mighty poor look-out for the strongest of us, and a
dreadful bad time for the poor women-folk, to be obliged to take to