“And pursue the boats, sir?”
“Bah! no! They are not worth the labour. You can take one of the young gentlemen with you.”
Bob took a step forward, but Mr Russell turned to Mark.
“You’ll come, Vandean,” he said; and the lad leaped into the cutter, which was rapidly rowed away through the muddy water, just as the schooner’s boats disappeared round a headland covered with trees, which screened the outlet of a stream far larger than had been imagined, and for which without doubt now the schooner’s captain had been making.
“A splendid prize, Vandean,” said Mr Russell, as they drew near and saw the admirable build of the vessel, which looked nearly new. “She was evidently on her way for a cargo of the poor wretches. We ought to have taken her afterwards, when she was laden.”
“Yes, we should have done more good then. But if they had no slaves on board, why did they run? Oh!”
The midshipman uttered an ejaculation expressive of the utter disgust which he felt as they neared the schooner’s side.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” cried the lieutenant; and then his countenance changed. “Back water!” he exclaimed, as he turned away his head. “How horrible!”
Then, altering his order, he cried, “Row—row, my lads—pull!”
For from somewhere on board, now not a dozen yards from them, there rang out in smothered tones a piteous cry of despair.