“It’s all right, sir,” said Mark, stepping out on to the deck to face Mr Staples. “We took the schooner.”
“Mr Vandean! Bless me, my dear boy, I am glad to see you again. We thought you were gone. But in the name of all that’s horrible, how did you come in this state?”
“State, sir?” said Mark, who had for the moment forgotten his injuries.
“My dear boy, yes; why, you haven’t a bit of hair on face or head, and you’re black as a negro.”
“I’d forgotten, sir. It was the powder.”
“Powder! an explosion?”
“Yes, sir; no, sir.”
“Mr Vandean,” cried the lieutenant, “do you want to aggravate me?”
“No, sir,” cried Mark; and he told him hastily what had taken place.
“Lucky for you that you did stop the train,” cried the lieutenant; “why, my good sir, it was too desperate; not one of you would have been left alive. But where is Mr Russell?”