“But the sharks!” panted Jack.
“We can’t stop to think of them,” said the doctor.—“Are you all right there?”
“Yes, and alongside,” cried the mate, and there was the rattle of the oars being laid in.
“Thank heaven!” cried the captain from the deck, as both boats ground against the yacht’s side. “Quick, all aboard! Now then, hook on those falls and up with the boats.”
The boats were run up to the davits in regular man-o’-war fashion, the gangway was closed, and the men who were busy went on rigging up a stout net about six feet wide along from stanchion to stanchion, and shroud to shroud, while, after a word or two of congratulation upon their safe return, the captain went on giving his orders.
“Nearly surprised us, Sir John,” he said; “and it would have been awkward with us so weak-handed. All go to your stations; they may try to board at any time. Here, Mr Jack, you’d better go below.”
“What for?” said Jack quietly.
“To be out of danger, sir,” said the captain angrily. “Quick, sir, I have no time to be polite.”
“Are you going below, father?” said the lad.
“I? No, my boy. I shall stay.”