The men followed, till only the coxswain and the two blacks remained hanging back, for once more the feeling of mistrust had come uppermost, and they were muttering together and looking wildly round.
“Here, I say,” cried Bob; “there’s sharks enough about here to make any man sorry who begins to swim. Come on board. D’ye hear?”
“What is it?” said the lieutenant.
“The two blacks are suspicious; they don’t understand why we want to bring them aboard this schooner. They think we mean mischief to them.”
“Poor fellows! No wonder,” said the lieutenant. “We must be careful, or we shall scare them, and they’ll try to swim ashore.”
“Well, wouldn’t that be best for them?”
“No, Vandean; they’d only be captured and sold again. You must coax them aboard.”
“Are you two coming?” cried Bob, looking as fierce as he could—“fierce as a maggot,” Tom Fillot said. “Because if you’re not, I’m coming to fetch you.”
The men joined hands and stood back.
“Come,” said Mark, quietly, as he stepped to the gangway and held out his hand; “it is all right.”