“Grand, Mr Anderson,” said the captain, after a time. But his first words had come pouring out like a storm of blame, which gave the first lieutenant no opportunity to report what he had done. “Yes: could not be better sir. There, we are going to capture a slaver at last!”

“Yes, sir, if we have luck; and to stamp out one of the strongholds of the accursed trade.”

Then the captain became silent, and stood thoughtfully looking over the side at the indiarubber planter’s lugger.

“Humph!” he ejaculated, at last. “Rather a serious risk to run, to trust to this stranger and make him our guide.”

“So it struck me, sir, as I told you,” said the lieutenant.

“Let me see, Mr Anderson, did you tell me that?”

“Yes, sir, if you will recall it.”

“Humph! Yes, I suppose you did. But I was thinking. Suppose he plays us false.”

“Why should he, sir?”

“To be sure, why should he, Mr Anderson? All the same, we must be careful.”

Meanwhile, Murray was being cross-examined by his brother midshipman, who looked out of temper, and expressed himself sourly upon coming aboard.

“You have all the luck,” he said. “You drop into all the spirited adventures, while I am packed off with prosy old Munday.”

“Oh, nonsense! It is all chance. But didn’t you see anything, old chap?”

“Yes – muddy water; dingy mangroves; the tail of a croc as the filthy reptile slid off the tree roots into the water. That was all, while there I was cooking in the heat, and listening to old Munday prose, prose, prose, till I dropped off to sleep, when the disagreeable beggar woke me up, to bully me about neglecting my duty, and told me that I should never get to be a smart officer if I took so little interest in my profession that I could not keep awake when out on duty.”

“Well, it did seem hard, Dick, when he sent you off to sleep. I couldn’t have kept awake, I know.”

“I’m sure you couldn’t. But there: bother! You couldn’t help getting all the luck.”

“No; and you are going to share it now.”

“Not so sure, Frank. As like as not the skipper will send me away in a boat to watch some hole where the slaver might slip out. So this Yankee is going to act as pilot and lead us up the river to where the schooner is hiding?”

“Yes, and to show us the chief’s town, and the place where he collects the poor unfortunate blacks ready for being shipped away to the Spanish plantations.”

“My word, it’s fine!” cried Roberts excitedly. “And hooroar, as Tom May has it. Why, the lads will be half mad with delight.”

“And enough to make them,” said Murray. “But I say, how does it strike you?”

“As being glorious. Franky, old fellow, if it wasn’t for the look of the thing I could chuck up my cap and break out into a hornpipe. Dance it without music.”

“To the delight of the men, and make Anderson or Munday say that it was not like the conduct of an officer and a gentleman.”

“Yes, that’s the worst of it. But though of course we’re men now – ”

“Midshipmen,” said Murray drily.

“Don’t sneer, old chap! And don’t interrupt when I’m talking.”

“Say on, O sage,” said the lad.

“I was going to say that of course, though we are men now, one does feel a bit of the boy sometimes, and as if it was pleasant now and then to have a good lark.” As the young fellow spoke he passed his hand thoughtfully over his cheeks and chin. “What are you grinning at?” he continued.

“Not grinning, old fellow; it was only a smile.”

“Now, none of your gammon. You were laughing at me.”

“Oh! Nothing!” said Murray, with the smile deepening at the corners of his mouth.

“There you go again!” cried Roberts. “Who’s to keep friends with you, Frank Murray, when you are always trying to pick a quarrel with a fellow?”

“What, by smiling?”

“No, by laughing at a fellow and then pretending you were not. Now then, what was it?”

“Oh, all right; I only smiled at you about your shaving so carefully this morning.”

“How did you know I shaved this morning?” cried the midshipman, flushing.

“You told me so.”

“That I’ll swear I didn’t.”

“Not with your lips, Dicky —Dick– but with your fingers.”

“Oh! Bother! I never did see such a fellow as you are to spy out things,” cried Roberts petulantly.

“Not spy, old chap. I only try to put that and that together, and I want you to do the same. So you think this is all glorious about yonder planter chap piloting us to the slaver’s place?”

“Of course! Don’t you?”

“Well, I don’t know, Dick,” said Murray, filling his forehead with wrinkles.

“Oh, I never did see such a fellow for pouring a souse of cold water down a fellow’s back,” cried Roberts passionately. “You don’t mean to say that you think he’s a fraud?”

“Can’t help thinking something of the kind, old man.”

“Oh!” ejaculated Roberts. “I say, here, tell us what makes you think so.”

“He’s too easy and ready, Dick,” said Murray, throwing off his ordinary merry ways and speaking seriously and with his face full of thought.

“But what does Anderson say to it?”

“He seemed to be suspicious once, but it all passed off, and then the skipper when he heard everything too talked as if he had his doubts. But now he treats it as if it is all right, and we are to follow this American chap wherever he leads us.”

“Yes, to-morrow morning, isn’t it?”

“No, Dick; to-night.”

“To-night – in the dark?”

“I suppose so.”

“Oh!” said Roberts thoughtfully, and he began to shave himself with his finger once more, but without provoking the faintest smile from his companion. “I say, Franky, I don’t like that.”

“No; neither do I, Dick.”

“It does seem like putting ourselves into his hands,” continued Roberts thoughtfully. “Oh, but I don’t know,” he continued, as if snatching at anything that told for the success of the expedition; “you know what Anderson often tells us.”

“I know what he says sometimes about our being thoughtless boys.”

“Yes, that’s what I mean, old fellow; and it isn’t true, for I think a deal about my duties, and as for you – you’re a beggar to think, just like the monkey who wouldn’t speak for fear he should be set to work.”

“Thanks for the compliment,” said Murray drily.

“Oh, you know what I mean. But I suppose we can’t think so well now as we shall by and by. I mean, older fellows can think better, and I suppose that the skipper and old Anderson really do know better than we do. It will be all right, old fellow. They wouldn’t let themselves be led into any trap; and besides, look at the Yankee – I mean, look at his position; he must be sharp enough.”

“Oh yes, he’s sharp enough,” said Murray. “Hear him talk, and you’d think he was brought up on pap made of boiled-down razor-strops.”

“Well, then, he must know well enough that if he did the slightest thing in the way of playing fast and loose with us, he’d get a bullet through his head.”

“Yes – if he wasn’t too sharp for us.”

“Oh, it will be all right,” cried Roberts. “Don’t be too cautious, Franky. Put your faith in your superior officers; that’s the way to succeed.”

“Then you think I am too cautious here, Dick?”

“Of course I do,” cried Roberts, patting his brother middy on the shoulder. “It will be all right, so don’t be dumpy. I feel as if we are going to have a fine time of it.”

“Think we shall have any fighting?”

“Afraid not; but you do as I do. I mean to get hold of a cutlass and pistols. I’m not going to risk my valuable life with nothing to preserve it but a ridiculous dirk. Don’t you be downhearted and think that the expedition is coming to grief.”

“Not I,” said Murray cheerily. “I suppose it’s all right; but I couldn’t help thinking what I have told you. I wish I didn’t think such things; but it’s a way I have.”

“Yes,” said his companion, “and any one wouldn’t expect it of you, Franky, seeing what a light-hearted chap you are. It’s a fault in your nature, a thing you ought to correct. If you don’t get over it you’ll never make a dashing officer.”

“Be too cautious, eh?” said Murray good-humouredly.

“That’s it, old chap. Oh, I say, though, I wish it was nearly night, and that we were going off at once. But I say, where’s the Yankee?”

“What!” cried Murray, starting. “Isn’t he alongside in his boat?”

“No; didn’t you see? He came aboard half-an-hour ago. Old Bosun Dempsey fetched him out of his lugger; and look yonder, you croaking old cock raven. We always have one jolly as sentry at the gangway, don’t we?”

“Of course.”

“Very well, look now; there are two loaded and primed ready for any pranks the lugger men might play; and there are the two cutters ready for lowering down at a moment’s notice, and it wouldn’t take long for Dempsey to fizzle out his tune on his pipe and send the crews into them.”

“Bah! Pish! Pooh! and the rest of it. What do you mean by that? Look, the lugger is a fast sailer.”

“Well, I dare say she is, but one of our little brass guns can send balls that sail through the air much faster. So drop all those dismal prophecies and damping thoughts about danger. Our officers know their way about and have got their eyes open. The skipper knows about everything, and what he doesn’t know bully Anderson tells him. It’s all right, Franky. Just look at the lads! Why, there’s Tom May smiling as if he’d filled his pockets full of prize money.”

“Yes,” assented Murray, “and the other lads have shaped their phizzes to match. But let’s get closer to the lugger.”

“What for?” said Roberts sharply.

“To have a good look at her Indiarubber-cultivating crew.”

“Not I!” cried Roberts. “If we go there you’ll begin to see something wrong again, and begin to croak.”

“No, no; honour bright! If I do think anything, I won’t say a word.”

“I’d better keep you here out of temptation,” said Roberts dubiously.

“Nonsense! It’s all right, I tell you. There, come along.”

Chapter Five.
Trusting a Guide

The two lads made for where they could get a good view of the lugger swinging by a rope abreast of the starboard gangway, and as they passed along the quarter-deck, the shrill strident tones of the American’s voice reached them through one of the open cabin skylights, while directly after, Murray, keen and observant of everything, noted that the two marines of whom his companion had spoken were standing apparently simply on duty, but thoroughly upon the alert and ready for anything, their whole bearing suggesting that they had received the strictest of orders, and were prepared for anything that might occur.

Roberts gave his companion a nudge with his elbow and a quick glance of the eye, which produced “Yes, all right; I see,” from Murray. “I’m afraid – I mean I’m glad to see that I was only croaking; but I say, Dick, have a good quiet look at those fellows and see if you don’t find some excuse for what I thought.”

“Bah! Beginning to croak again.”

“That I’m not,” said Murray. “I only say have a look at them, especially at that fellow smoking.”

“Wait a moment. I have focussed my eye upon that beauty getting his quid ready – disgusting!”

“Yes, it does look nasty,” said Murray, with the corners of his lips turning up. “The regular Malay fashion. That fellow never came from these parts.”

“Suppose not. Why can’t the nasty wretch cut a quid off a bit of black twist tobacco like an ordinary British sailor?”

“Instead of taking a leaf out of his pouch,” continued Murray, “smearing it with that mess of white lime paste out of his shell – ”

“Putting a bit of broken betel nut inside – ” said Roberts.

“Rolling it up together – ” continued Murray.

“And popping the whole ball into his pretty mouth,” said Roberts. “Bah! Look at his black teeth and the stained corners of his lips. Talk about a dirty habit! Our jacks are bad enough. Ugh!”

“I say, Dick,” whispered Murray, as the Malay occupant of the boat realised the fact that he was being watched, and rolled his opal eyeballs round with a peculiar leer up at the two young officers.

“Now then,” was the reply, “you promised that you wouldn’t croak.”

“To be sure. I only wanted to say that fellow looks a beauty.”

“Beauty is only skin deep,” said Roberts softly.

“And ugliness goes to the bone,” whispered Murray, smiling. “Yes, he looks a nice fellow to be a cultivator of the indiarubber plant.”

“Eh? Who said he was?” said Roberts sharply.

“His skipper. That’s what they all are. Splendid workers too. Do more than regular niggers.”

“Do more, no doubt,” said Roberts thoughtfully. “But they certainly don’t look like agricultural labourers. Why, they’re a regular crew of all sorts.”

“Irregular crew, you mean,” said Murray. “That one to the left looks like an Arab.”

“Yes, and the one asleep with his mouth open and the flies buzzing about him looks to me like a Krooboy. Well, upon my word, old Croaker, they do look – I say, do you see that blackest one?”

“Yes; and I’ve seen them before, you know.”

“But he opened and shut his mouth just now. You didn’t see that, did you?”

“Yes, I saw it; he has had his teeth filed like a saw.”

“That’s what I meant, and it makes him look like a crocodile when he gapes.”

“Or a shark.”

“Well,” said Roberts, after a pause, “upon my word, Frank, they do look about as ugly a set of cut-throat scoundrels as ever I saw in my life.”

“Right,” said Murray eagerly. “Well, what do you say now?”

“That I should like to point out their peculiarities to the skipper and old Anderson, and tell them what we think. Go and ask them to come and look.”

“I have already done so to Anderson.”

“But you ought to do it to the skipper as well. Look here, go at once and fetch him here to look.”

“While the American is with him? Thank you; I’d rather not.”

“Do you mean that?”

“To be sure I do. What would he say to me?”

“Oh, he’d cut up rough, of course; but you wouldn’t mind that in the cause of duty.”

Murray laughed softly.

“Why, Dick, I can almost hear what he would say about my impudence to attempt to teach him his duty. No, thank you, my dear boy; if he and Anderson think it right to trust the American, why, it must be right. If you feel that the nature of these fellows ought to be pointed out, why, you go and do it.”

Roberts took another look at the lugger’s crew, and then shrugged his shoulders, just as the captain came on deck, followed by the American and the first lieutenant.

The American was talking away volubly, and every word of the conversation came plainly to the ears of the two lads.

“Of course, cyaptain, I’ll stop on board your craft if yew like, but I put it to yew, how am I going to play pilot and lead you in through the mouth if I stop here? I can sail my lugger easy enough, but I should get into a tarnation mess if I tried to con your big ship. Better let me lead in aboard my own craft, and you follow.”

“In the darkness of night?” said the captain.

“There ain’t no darkness to-night, mister. It’ll be full moon, and it’s morning pretty early – just soon enough for you to begin business at daybreak. I shall lead you right up to where the schooner’s lying, and then you’ll be ready to waken the skipper up by giving him a good round up with your big guns.”

“And what about the slaves?”

“Oh, you must fire high, sir, and then yew won’t touch them. High firing’s just what yew want so as to cripple his sails and leave him broken-winged like a shot bird on the water.”

The captain nodded, and the two midshipmen, after a glance at the first lieutenant, to see that he was listening attentively with half-closed eyes, gazed at the American again.

“Lookye here, mister,” he said, “yew must make no mistake over this job. If yew do, it’s going to be pretty bad for me, and instead of me being rid of a bad neighbour or two, and coming in for a long strip of rich rubber-growing land, I shall find myself dropped upon for letting on to him yewr craft; and I tell yew he’s a coon, this slave cyaptain, as won’t forgive anything of that kind. He’s just this sort of fellow. If he finds I’ve done him such an on-neighbourly act, he’ll just give his fellows a nod, and in less time than yew can wink there’ll be no rubber-grower anywhere above ground, for there’ll be a fine rich plantation to sell and no bidders, while this ’ere industrious enterprising party will be somewhere down the river, put aside into some hole in the bank to get nice and mellow by one of the crockydiles, who object to their meat being too fresh.”

“Ugh!” shuddered Roberts.

“Oh, that’s right enough, young squire,” said the man, turning upon him sharply. “I ain’t telling you no travellers’ tales. It’s all true enough. Wal, cyaptain, don’t you see the sense of what I am saying?”

“Yes, sir. But tell me this; do you guarantee that there are no shoals anywhere about the mouth of the river?”

“Shoals, no; sands, no, sir. All deep water without any bottom to speak of. But where you find it all deep mud yew can’t take no harm, sir. The river’s made its way right threw the forest, and the bank’s cut right straight down and up perpendicular like, while if you were to go ashore it would only be to send your jib boom right in among the trees and your cut-water against the soft muddy bank. Why, it’s mostly a hundred feet deep. Yew trust me, and yew’ll find plenty of room; but if yew don’t feel quite comf’table, if I was yew I’d just lie off for a bit while you send in one of your boats and Squire First Lieutenant there, to see what it’s like, and the sooner the better, for the sun’s getting low, and as I dessay yew know better than I can tell yew, it ain’t long after the sun sinks before it’s tidy dark. Now then, what do yew say? I’m ready as soon as yew are.”

“How long will it take us to get up to the chief’s town?”

“’Bout till daylight to-morrow morn’, mister. That’s what I’m telling of yew.”

“Then it’s quite a big river?”

“Mighty big, sir.”

“And the current?”

“None at all hardly, mister. Yew’ll just ketch the night wind as blows off the sea, and that’ll take yew up as far as yew want to go. Then morrow mornin’ if yew’re done all yew want to do yew’ll have the land wind to take yew out to sea again. Though I’m thinking that yew won’t be able to do all yew want in one day, for there’s a lot of black folk to deal with, and I wouldn’t be in too great a hurry. Yew take my advice, cyaptain; do it well while yew’re about it, and yew won’t repent.”

“Never fear, sir,” said the captain sternly. “I shall do my work thoroughly. Now then, back into your lugger and show us the way. Mr Munday, take the second cutter and follow this American gentleman’s lead, and then stay alongside his boat while Mr Anderson comes back to report to me in the first cutter. You both have your instructions. Yes, Mr Roberts – Yes, Mr Murray,” continued the captain, in response to a couple of appealing looks; “you can accompany the two armed boats.”

Chapter Six.
Into the Mist

Murray thought that the American screwed up his eyes in a peculiar way when he found that the two boats were to go in advance of the sloop, but he had no opportunity for telling Roberts what he believed he had seen, while so busy a time followed and his attention was so much taken up that it was not till long afterwards that he recalled what he had noted.

The American, upon rejoining his lugger, sailed away at once with the two boats in close attendance and the sloop right behind, their pilot keeping along the dingy mangrove-covered shore and about half-a-mile distant, where no opening seemed visible; and so blank was the outlook that the first lieutenant had turned to his young companion to say in an angry whisper —

“I don’t like this at all, Mr Murray.” But the words were no sooner out of his mouth than to the surprise of both there was a sudden pressure upon the lugger’s tiller, the little vessel swung round, and her cut-water pointed at once for the densely wooded shore, so that she glided along in a course diagonal to that which she had been pursuing.

“Why, what game is he playing now?” muttered the lieutenant. “There is no opening here. Yes, there is,” he added, the next minute. “No wonder we passed it by. How curious! Ah, here comes the moon.”

For as the great orb slowly rose and sent her horizontal rays over the sea in a wide path of light, she lit-up what at first sight seemed to be a narrow opening in the mangrove forest, but which rapidly spread out wider and wider, till as the three boats glided gently along, their sails well filled by the soft sea breeze, Murray gazed back, to see that the sloop was now following into what proved to be a wide estuary, shut off from seaward by what appeared now in the moonlight a long narrow strip of mangrove-covered shore.

“River,” said the lieutenant decisively, “and a big one too. Now, Tom May, steady with the lead.”

“Ay, ay, sir!” cried the man, and he began to take soundings, one of the sailors in the second cutter receiving his orders and beginning to follow the example set.

Then there was a hail from the lugger.

“What game do you call this?”

“Soundings,” replied the lieutenant gruffly.

“Twenty fathom for miles up, and you can go close inshore if you like. It’s all alike.”

“P’raps so,” said the officer, “but my orders are to sound.”

“Sound away, then,” said the American sourly; “but do you want to be a week?” And he relapsed into silence, till about a couple of miles of the course of the wide river had been covered, sounding after sounding being taken, which proved the perfect truth of the American’s words.

Then the two cutters closed up and there was a brief order given by the first lieutenant, which resulted in the second cutter beginning to make its way back to where the sloop lay in the mouth of the estuary.

“What yer doing now?” came from the lugger.

“Sending word to the sloop that there’s plenty of water and that she may come on.”

“Course she may, mister,” grumbled the American. “Think I would ha’ telled yew if it hedn’t been all right? Yew Englishers are queer fish!”

“Yes,” said the lieutenant quietly. “We like to feel our way cautiously in strange waters.”

“Then I s’pose we may anchor now till your skipper comes? All right, then, on’y you’re not going to get up alongside of the schooner this side of to-morrow morning, I tell yew.”

“Very well, then, we must take the other side of her the next morning.”

The American issued an order of his own in a sulky tone of voice, lowering his sails; and then there was a splash as a grapnel was dropped over the side.

“Hadn’t yew better anchor?” he shouted good-humouredly now. “If yew don’t yew’ll go drifting backward pretty fast.”

For answer the lieutenant gave the order to lower the grapnel, and following the light splash and the running out of the line came the announcement of the sailor in charge as he checked the falling rope —

“No bottom here.”

“Takes a tidy long line here, mister,” came in the American’s sneering voice. “Guess your sloop’s keel won’t touch no bottom when she comes up.”

The lieutenant made no reply save by hoisting sail again and running to and fro around and about the anchored lugger, so as to pass the time in taking soundings, all of which went to prove that the river flowed sluggishly seaward with so little variation in the depth that the soundings were perfectly unnecessary.

It was tedious work, and a couple of hours passed before, pale and spirit-like at first, the other cutter came into sight in the pale moonlight, followed by the sloop, when the American had the lugger’s grapnel hauled up and ran his boat alongside of the first cutter.

“Look here,” he said angrily, “yewr skipper’s just making a fool of me, and I may as well run ashore to my plantation, for we shan’t do no good to-night.”

The man’s words were repeated when the sloop came up, and a short discussion followed, which resulted in the captain changing his orders.

“The man’s honest enough, Anderson,” he said, “and I must trust him.”

“What do you mean to do, then, sir?” said the first lieutenant, in a low tone.

“Let him pilot us to where the slaver lies.”

“With the lead going all the time, sir?”

“Of course, Mr Anderson,” said the captain shortly. “Do you think me mad?”

“I beg your pardon, sir,” replied the chief officer. “Perhaps it will be best.”

It proved to be best so far as the American’s temper was concerned, for upon hearing the captain’s decision, he took his place at the tiller of his lugger and led the way up the great river, followed by the stately sloop, whose lead as it was lowered from time to time told the same unvarying tale of deep water with a muddy bottom, while as the river’s winding course altered slightly, the width as far as it could be made out by the night glasses gave at least a couple of miles to the shore on either hand.

From time to time the first cutter, in obedience to the captain’s orders, ran forward from where she was sailing astern – the second cutter swinging now from the davits – crept up alongside of the lugger, and communicated with her skipper; and Murray’s doubts grew more faint, for everything the American said sounded plausible.

The night was far spent when another of these visits was paid, and as the coxswain hooked on alongside of the lugger the American leaned over to speak to the lieutenant, but turned first to Murray. “Well, young mister,” he said; “sleepy?”

“No, not at all,” was the reply. “Good boy; that’s right; but if your skipper hadn’t been so tarnation ’spicious yew might have had a good snooze. Wall, lieutenant, I was just waiting to see you, and I didn’t want to hail for fear our slave-hunting friend might be on his deck and hear us. Talk about your skipper being ’spicious, he’s nothing to him. The way in which the sound of a shout travels along the top of the water here’s just wonderful, and my hail might spyle the hull business.”

“But we’re not so near as that?” asked the lieutenant.

“Ain’t we? But we jest are! See that there bit of a glimpse of the mountains straight below the moon?”

“Yes,” said the lieutenant; “but I should have taken it for a cloud if you had not spoken.”

“That’s it,” said the skipper; “that’s where the river winds round at the foot, and the quieter yewr people keep now the better. Oh yes, yewr skipper has knocked all my calc’lations on the head, I can tell yew. That there sloop sails A1, and she’s done much more than I ’spected.”

“I’m glad of it,” said the lieutenant, while Murray’s spirits rose.

“So’m I,” said the man, with a chuckle; “and now it’s turned out all right I don’t mind ’fessing.”

“Confessing! What about?”

“Why, this here,” said the man. “Your skipper had wasted so much time with his soundings and messing about that I says to myself that if I tried to see the business out our Portygee friend would see me mixed up with it all and take the alarm. Yewr sloop wouldn’t get near him, for he’d run right up the river where you couldn’t follow, and he’d wait his time till you’d gone away, and then come down upon me as an informer. D’you know what that would mean for me then?”

“Not exactly,” replied the lieutenant, “but I can guess.”

“Zackly,” said the man, and he turned sharply upon Murray and made a significant gesture with one finger across his throat.

“Look here,” said the lieutenant, “don’t talk so much, my friend.”

“That’s just what I want yew to go and tell your skipper, mister. Tell him to give orders that his men are not to say a word above a whisper, for if it’s ketched aboard the schooner our friend will be off.”

“I will tell him,” said the lieutenant; “but now tell me what you mean to do?”

“To do? Jest this; put your vessel just where she can lie low and send three or four boats to steal aboard the schooner and take her. Yew can do that easy, can’t yew, without firing a shot?”

“Certainly,” said the lieutenant; “and what about you?”

“Me? Get outer the way as fast as I can, I tell yew. I’m not a fighting man, and I’ve got to think of what might happen if you let the slaver slip. See?”

“Yes, I see,” said the lieutenant; “but you need not be alarmed for yourself. Captain Kingsberry will take care that no harm shall befall you.”

“Think so, mister?”

“I am sure so, my friend. But now tell me this; how soon do you think that you can lay us abreast of that schooner?”

“Jest when you like now, mister. What I’ve set down as being best is, say, about daybreak.”

“Exactly; that will do.”

“Jest what I said to myself. Daybreak’s the time when everybody aboard will be fast asleep, for they don’t carry on there like yew do aboard a man-o’-war with your keeping watch and that sort of thing.”

“Of course not,” said the officer. “Well, then, I may go and tell the captain what you say?”

“That’s jest as yew like, mister. I should if it was me.”

“Exactly. And you feel sure that you can keep your word?”

“Wish I was as sure of getting hold of that there piece o’ territory, mister, and the nigger chief cleared away.”

“Then you don’t feel quite sure?” put in Murray.

“Course I don’t, young officer. There’s many a pick at a worm as turns out a miss, ain’t there? How do I know that my Portygee neighbour mayn’t slip off through your boats making too much of a row instead of creeping up quiet? You mean right, all of you, but I shan’t feel sure till you’ve made a prisoner of that chap and scattered the nigger chief and his men where they’ll be afraid to come back. Now then; you said something about talking too much. I’m going to shut up shop now and give my tongue a holiday till I’ve laid you where you can send your boats to do their work. But I say, just one word more, mister,” said the man anxiously; and the lieutenant felt his hand tremble as he laid it upon his arm; “yew will be careful, won’t yew?”

“Trust us,” replied the lieutenant.

“That’s what I’m a-doing; but jest you think. It puts me in mind of the boys and the frogs in your English moral story – what may be fun to yew may be death to me. Tell your skipper that he must take all the care he can.”

“I will,” said the lieutenant.

“But look here; perhaps I’d better come aboard and say a word to him. Don’t you think I might?”

“No,” was the reply.

“But what do yew say, young mister?”

“I say no too,” replied Murray. “Your place is here aboard your lugger.”

“Wall, I suppose you’re right,” half whimpered the man, “for we’re getting tidy nigh now, and I don’t want anything to go wrong through my chaps making a mistake. I’ll chance it, so you’d best get aboard your vessel. Tell the skipper I shall do it just at daylight. Less than half-an-hour now. Then’ll be the time.”