“I order you to go, my lad,” said the lieutenant, speaking sternly, but with a friendly light in his eye. “There, off at once.”
Mark passed over the side with half the boat’s crew, and, feeling extremely uneasy about his officer’s fate, had himself rowed back, and stated the case to the captain.
“Horrible!” he said. “Well, the men must be brought on board if the schooner is a fixture. Take back ten men with you, and tell Mr Russell to get out an anchor and see if he cannot haul off the vessel. If he cannot, the slaves must be brought on board, and the schooner burned.”
“But how are we to get the men out of the hold, sir? They are frightened to death of us,” said Mark.
“To be sure, yes. Try fair means, and if they do not answer, the poor wretches must be hoisted on deck with ropes. They will soon grow satisfied when they feel that we mean them no harm.”
“But—I beg your pardon, sir,” faltered Mark; “we cannot make them understand that we are friends.”
“May I speak, sir?” cried Bob Howlett.
“Silence, sir; don’t interfere,” said Mr Staples, sternly.
“Oh, you lucky beggar,” whispered Bob; “you get all the fun.”
“Go back at once, Mr Vandean,” said the captain. “You understand. Get the schooner off if possible. If not, bring the slaves on board, and the vessel is to be set on fire. Well, Mr Howlett, why are you making signs?”