"Clap it on, and make it fast," replied the mate.
The situation began to be very serious. With nearly all the men drunk, there was a disturbance in the steerage. There was plainly a rising among the prisoners. It was clear enough that the trouble had been caused by the Spanish and Portuguese sailors. Everything had gone along so well for a week, that we had relaxed our vigilance to some extent, though we went through all the forms established at the commencement of our rule in the vessel.
I secured the fore scuttle so that it could not be opened from below. I began to have an idea of the manner in which the difficulty had been occasioned. The five pirates—as I choose to call those who had knowingly embarked for a slave voyage—whom we had released had done the work for their masters in the steerage. They had brought up the rum, and given it to the crew, in preparation for the strike which was to ensue. But we had disposed of the two worst of the pirates on deck.
"Come, Phil, we must go below," said Sanderson. "Baxter will remain on deck, and see that the fore scuttle or the main hatch is not removed."
"Wait a minute, Mr. Sanderson," I interposed. "The more haste, the worse speed."
"But there's a row in the steerage."
"No matter; we will not put our heads into a trap," I replied, as we walked aft and met Captain York in the waist.
"We are in trouble, Mr. Farringford," said the captain. "I think, from the noise in the steerage, that the pirates there have overpowered the sentinel."
"Who was on guard?" I asked.
"Franklin."