Читать книгу Hunting the Skipper: The Cruise of the «Seafowl» Sloop - Fenn George Manville - Страница 3

The first cutter had the wind in her favour and glided northward mile after mile along a shore thickly covered with the peculiar growth of the mangrove, those dense bird-affecting, reptile-haunted coverts, whose sole use seems to be that of keeping the muddy soil of the West Afric shores from being washed away.

The heat was terrible, and the men were congratulating themselves on the fact that the wind held out and saved them from the painful task of rowing hard in the blistering sunshine.

Murray’s duty was to handle the tiller lines as he sat in the stern sheets beside the first lieutenant, and after being out close upon three hours he began to feel that he could keep awake no longer – for his companion sat silent and stern, his gaze bent upon the dark green shore, searching vainly for the hidden opening – and in a half torpid state the midshipman was about to turn to his silent companion and ask to be relieved of the lines, when he uttered a gasp of thankfulness, and, forgetting discipline, gripped the officer by the knee.

“What the something, Mr Murray, do you mean by that?” cried the lieutenant angrily.

“Look!” was the reply, accompanied by a hand stretched out with pointing index finger.

“Stand by, my lads, ready to pull for all you know,” cried the lieutenant. “The wind may drop at any moment. You, Tom May, take a pull at that sheet; Mr Murray, tighten that port line. That’s better; we must cut that lugger off. Did you see where she came out?”

“Not quite, sir,” said Murray, as he altered the boat’s course a trifle, “but it must have been close hereabouts. What are you going to do, sir?”

“Do, my lad? Why, take her and make the master or whatever he is, act as guide.”

“I see, sir. Then you think he must have come out of the river where the schooner has taken refuge?”

“That’s what I think,” said the lieutenant grimly; “and if I am right I fancy the captain will not be quite so hard upon us as he has been of late.”

“It will be a glorious triumph for us – I mean for you, sir,” said Murray hurriedly.

“Quite right, Mr Murray,” said his companion, smiling. “I can well afford to share the honours with you, for I shall have owed it to your sharp eyes. But there, don’t let’s talk. We must act and strain every nerve, for I’m doubtful about that lugger; she sails well and may escape us after all.”

Murray set his teeth as he steered so as to get every foot of speed possible out of the cutter, while, sheet in hand, Tom May sat eagerly watching the steersman, ready to obey the slightest sign as the boat’s crew sat fast with the oars in the rowlocks ready to dip together and pull for all they were worth, should the wind fail.

“That’s good, my lads,” said the lieutenant – “most seamanlike. It’s a pleasure to command such a crew.”

There was a low hissing sound as of men drawing their breath hard, and the old officer went on.

“We’re not losing ground, Mr Murray,” he said.

“No, sir; gaining upon her, I think.”

“So do I – think, Mr Murray,” said the lieutenant shortly, “but I’m not sure. Ah, she’s changing her course,” he added excitedly, “and we shall lose her. Oh, these luggers, these luggers! How they can skim over the waves! Here, marines,” he said sharply, as he turned to a couple of the rifle-armed men who sat in the stern sheets, “be ready to send a shot through the lugger’s foresail if I give the order; the skipper may understand what I mean.” And the speaker, sat frowning heavily at the lightly-built lugger they were following. “I don’t see what more I can do, Mr Murray.”

“No, sir,” said the midshipman hoarsely. “Oh, give the order, sir – pray do! We mustn’t lose that boat.”

“Fire!” said the lieutenant sharply; and one marine’s rifle cracked, while as the smoke rose lightly in the air Murray uttered a low cry of exultation.

“Right through the foresail, sir, and the skipper knows what we mean.”

“Yes, capital! Good shot, marine.”

The man’s face shone with pleasure as he thrust in a fresh cartridge before ramming it down, and the crew looked as if they were panting to give out a loud cheer at the success of the lieutenant’s manoeuvre, for the little lugger, which was just beginning to creep away from them after a change in her course, now obeyed a touch of her helm and bore round into the wind till the big lug sails shivered and she gradually settled down to rock softly upon the long heaving swell that swept in landward.

As the cutter neared, Murray noted that the strange boat was manned by a little crew of keen-looking blacks, not the heavy, protuberant-lipped, flat-nosed, West Coast “niggers,” but men of the fierce-looking tribes who seem to have come from the east in the course of ages and have preserved somewhat of the Arabic type and its keen, sharp intelligence of expression.

But the midshipman had not much time for observation of the little crew, his attention being taken up directly by the dramatic-looking entrance upon the scene of one who was apparently the skipper or owner of the lugger, and who had evidently been having a nap in the shade cast by the aft lugsail, and been awakened by the shot to give the order which had thrown the lugger up into the wind.

He surprised both the lieutenant and Murray as he popped into sight to seize the side of his swift little vessel and lean over towards the approaching cutter, as, snatching off his wide white Panama hat, he passed one duck-covered white arm across his yellowish-looking hairless face and shouted fiercely and in a peculiar twang —

“Here, I say, you, whoever you are, do you know you have sent a bullet through my fores’l?”

“Yes, sir. Heave to,” said the lieutenant angrily.

“Wal, I have hev to, hevn’t I, sirr? But just you look here; I don’t know what you thought you was shooting at, but I suppose you are a Britisher, and I’m sure your laws don’t give you leave to shoot peaceful traders to fill your bags.”

“That will do,” said the lieutenant sternly. “What boat’s that?”

“I guess it’s mine, for I had it built to my order, and paid for it. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind telling me what your boat is and what you was shooting at?”

“This is the first cutter of Her Majesty’s sloop of war Seafowl,” said the lieutenant sternly, “and – ”

But the American cut what was about to be said in two by crying in his sharp nasal twang —

“Then just you look here, stranger; yew’ve got hold of a boat as is just about as wrong as it can be for these waters. I’ve studied it and ciphered it out, and I tell yew that if yew don’t look out yew’ll be took by one of the waves we have off this here coast, and down yew’ll go. I don’t want to offend yew, mister, for I can see that yew’re an officer, but I tell yew that yew ought to be ashamed of yewrself to bring your men along here in such a hen cock-shell as that boat of yourn.”

“Why, it’s as seaworthy as yours, sir,” said the lieutenant good-humouredly.

“Not it, mister; and besides, I never go far from home in mine.”

“From home!” said the lieutenant keenly. “Where do you call home?”

“Yonder,” said the American, with a jerk of his head. “You ain’t got no home here, and it’s a mercy that you haven’t been swamped before now. Where have you come from? – the Cape?”

“No,” said the lieutenant; “but look here, sir, what are you, and what are you doing out here?”

“Sailing now,” said the American.

“But when you are ashore?”

“Rubber,” said the man.

“What, trading in indiarubber?”

“Shall be bimeby. Growing it now – plantation.”

“Oh,” said the lieutenant, looking at the speaker dubiously. “Where is your plantation?”

“Up the creek yonder,” replied the American, with another nod of his head towards the coast.

“Oh,” said the lieutenant quietly; “you have a plantation, have you, for the production of rubber, and you work that with slaves?”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha!” laughed the American, showing a set of very yellow teeth. “That’s what you’re after, then? I see through you now, cyaptain. You’re after slave-traders.”

“Perhaps so; and you confess yourself to be one,” said the lieutenant.

“Me?” said the American, laughing boisterously again. “Hev another try, cyaptain. Yew’re out this time. Ketch me trying to work a plantation with West Coast niggers! See those boys o’ mine?”

“Yes; I see your men,” replied the lieutenant.

“Them’s the stuff I work with. Pay ’em well and they work well. No work, no pay. Why, one of those fellows’d do more work for me in a day than one of the blacks they come here to buy up could do in a week.”

“Then slave-traders come here to buy, eh?”

“Yes, they do,” replied the man, “but ’tain’t none of my business. They don’t interfere with me, and I don’t interfere with them. Plenty of room here for both. Yew’re after them, then?”

“Yes,” said the lieutenant frankly.

“Phew!” whistled the man, giving his knees a slap. “Why, you’ll be after the schooner that came into this river this morning?”

“Possibly,” said the lieutenant, while Murray felt his blood thrill in his veins with the excitement of the position. “What schooner was it?”

“Smart sailing craft, with long rakish masts?”

“Yes, yes,” said the lieutenant; “I know all about that. A slaver, eh?”

The American half shut his eyes as he peered out of their corners at the British officer, and a queer smile puckered up his countenance.

“Slaving ain’t lawful, is it, mister?” he said.

“You answer my question,” said the lieutenant testily.

“Means confiscation, don’t it?”

“And that is not an answer,” cried the lieutenant angrily.

“Yew making a prize of that theer smart schooner from her top-masts down to her keel, eh?”

“Will you reply to what I say?” cried the lieutenant. “Is she a slaver?”

“Lookye here, mister,” said the American, grinning. “S’pose I say yes, you’ll jest confiscate that there schooner when her skipper and her crew slips over the side into the boats and pulls ashore.”

“Perhaps I may,” said the lieutenant shortly.

“Exackly so, mister. Then you sails away with her for a prize, eh?”

“Possibly,” said the lieutenant coldly.

“And what about me?”

“Well, what about you?”

“I can’t pull back to my rubber plantations and sail them away, can I?”

“I do not understand you, sir,” said the lieutenant sharply.

“No, and you don’t care to understand me, mister. ‘No,’ says you, ‘it’s no business of mine about his pesky injyrubby fields.’”

“Why should it be, sir?” said the lieutenant shortly.

“Exackly so, mister; but it means a deal to me. How shall I look after you’re gone when the slaver’s skipper – ”

“Ah!” cried Murray excitedly. “Then she is a slaver!”

The American’s eyes twinkled as he turned upon the young man.

“Yew’re a sharp ’un, yew are,” he said, showing his yellow teeth. “Did I say she was a slaver?”

“Yes, you did,” cried Murray.

“Slipped out then because your boss began saying slaver, I suppose. That was your word and I give it to yew back again. I want to live peaceable like on my plantation and make my dollahs out of that there elastic and far-stretching projuice of the injyrubbery trees. That’s my business, misters, and I’m not going to take away any man’s crackter.”

“You have given me the clue I want, sir,” said the lieutenant, “and it is of no use for you to shirk any longer from telling me the plain truth about what is going on up this river or creek.”

“Oh, isn’t it, mister officer? Perhaps I know my business better than you can tell me. I dessay yew’re a very smart officer, but I could give you fits over growing rubber, and I’m not going to interfere with my neighbours who may carry on a elastic trade of their own in black rubber or they may not. ’Tain’t my business. As I said afore, or was going to say afore when this here young shaver as hain’t begun to shave yet put his oar in and stopped me, how should I look when yew’d gone and that half-breed black and yaller Portygee schooner skipper comes back with three or four boat-loads of his cut-throats and says to me in his bad language that ain’t nayther English, ’Murrican, nor nothing else but hashed swearing, ‘Look here,’ he says, ‘won’t injyrubber burn like fire, eh?’ ‘Yes,’ I says, civil and smooth, ‘it is rayther rum-combustible.’ ‘So I thought,’ he says. ‘Well, you’ve been letting that tongue of yours go running along and showing those cusses of Britishers where I anchor my boat and load up with plantation stuff for the West Injies; so jes’ look here,’ he sez, ‘I’ve lost thousands o’ dollars threw yew, and so I’m just going to make yew pay for it by burning up your plantations and putting a stop to your trade, same as yew’ve put a stop to mine. I shan’t hurt yew, because I’m a kind-hearted gentle sorter man, but I can’t answer for my crew. I can’t pay them, because yew’ve took my ship and my marchandise, so I shall tell them they must take it outer yew. And they will, stranger. I don’t say as they’ll use their knives over the job, and I don’t say as they won’t, but what I do say is that I shouldn’t like to be yew.’ There, Mister Officer, that’s about what’s the matter with me, and now yew understand why I don’t keer about meddling with my neighbours’ business.”

“Yes, I understand perfectly,” said the lieutenant, “but I want you to see that it is your duty to help to put a stop to this horrible traffic in human beings. Have you no pity for the poor blacks who are made prisoners, and are dragged away from their homes to be taken across the sea and sold like so many cattle?”

“Me? Pity! Mister, I’m full of it. I’m sorry as sorrow for the poor niggers, and whenever I know that yon schooner is loading up with black stuff I shuts my eyes and looks t’other way.”

“Indeed!” cried Murray. “And pray how do you manage to do that?”

“Why, ain’t I telling on you, youngster? I shuts my eyes so as I can’t see.”

“Then how can you look another way?”

The American displayed every tooth in his head and winked at the lieutenant.

“Yew’ve got a sharp ’un here, mister. I should keep him covered up, or shut him up somehow, ’fore he cuts anybody or himself. But yew understand what I mean, mister, and I dessay you can see now why I feel it my business to be very sorry for the black niggers, but more sorry for myself and my people. I don’t want to be knifed by a set o’ hangdog rubbish from all parts o’ the world. I’m a peaceable man, mister, but you’re a cap’en of a man-o’-war, I suppose?”

“Chief officer,” said the lieutenant.

“And what’s him?” said the American, jerking his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the midshipman. “Young chief officer?”

“Junior officer.”

“Oh, his he? Well, I tell you what: yew both go and act like men-o’-war. Sail up close to that schooner, fire your big guns, and send her to the bottom of the river.”

“And what about the poor slaves?” said Murray excitedly.

“Eh, the black stuff?” said the American, scratching his chin with his forefinger. “Oh, I forgot all about them. Rather bad for them, eh, mister?”

“Of course,” said the lieutenant. “No, sir, that will not do. I want to take the schooner, and make her captain and crew prisoners.”

“Yew’ll have to look slippery then, mister. But what about the niggers?”

“I shall take them with the vessel to Lagos or some other port where a prize court is held, and the judge will no doubt order the best to be done with them.”

“Which means put an end to the lot, eh?” said the American.

“Bah! Nonsense!” cried Murray indignantly.

“Is it, young mister? Well, I didn’t know. It ain’t my business. Yew go on and do what’s right. It’s your business. I don’t keer so long as I’m not mixed up with it. I’ve on’y got one life, and I want to take keer on it. Now we understand one another?”

“Not quite,” said the lieutenant.

“Why, what is there as yew can’t take in?”

“Nothing,” said the lieutenant. “I quite see your position, and that you do not wish to run any risks with the slaver captain and his men.”

“Not a cent’s worth if I can help it.”

“And quite right, sir,” said the lieutenant; “but I take it that you know this slaver skipper by sight?”

“Oh, yes, I know him, mister – quite as much as I want to.”

“And you know where he trades to?”

“West Injies.”

“No, no; I mean his place here.”

“Oh, you mean his barracks and sheds where the chief stores up all the black stuff for him to come and fetch away?”

“Yes, that’s it,” cried Murray excitedly.

“Have the goodness to let me conclude this important business, Mr Murray,” said the lieutenant coldly.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” said Murray, turning scarlet; “I was so excited.”

“That’s one for you, mister young chief officer,” said the American, grinning at the midshipman, and then turning to the lieutenant. “These young uns want sitting upon a bit sometimes, eh, mister?”

“Look here, sir,” said the lieutenant, ignoring the remark; “just listen to me. I want you to guide me and my men to the foul nest of this slave-trader and the town of the black chief.”

The American shook his head.

“You need not shrink, for you will be under the protection of the English Government.”

“That’s a long way off, mister.”

“But very far-reaching, sir,” continued the lieutenant, “and I promise you full protection for all that you do. Why, surely, man, you will be able to cultivate your plantation far more peacefully and with greater satisfaction with the river cleared of this abominable traffic.”

“Well, if you put it in that way, mister, I should,” said the man, “and that’s a fine range of rich land where the black chief has his people and their huts. I could do wonders with that bit if I could hold it safely. The rubber I’d plant there would be enough to – ”

“Rub out all the black marks that the slave-trade has made.”

“Very good, Mr Murray,” said the lieutenant, smiling pleasantly, “but this is no time to try and be smart.”

“Eh?” said the American. “Was that what he was aiming at? I didn’t understand; but I tell yew that there is about a mile of rich syle there which if I had I could make it projuice a fortune.”

“Look here, sir,” said the lieutenant, “I have no doubt about the possibility of your being helped by the British Government to take possession of such a tract after we have done with it.”

“Why, you don’t mean, Mister Chief Officer, that you will let your British Lion put his paw upon it and stick to it till you’ve done with it, as you say?”

“No, no, no,” said the lieutenant, smiling. “I mean that the British Lion will put its paw upon the horrible settlement in this way and will root out the traffic, and we shall only be too glad to encourage the rise of a peaceful honest culture such as you are carrying on.”

“You mean then that you’ll root out the slaves and burn the chief’s town?”

“Most certainly,” said the lieutenant. “And help me to get hold of that there land?”

“I believe I may promise that.”

“And take care that the Portygee slaver cock has his comb cut so as he dursen’t meddle with me?”

“I feel sure that all this will follow if you help us to capture the slaver, and point out where the abominable traffic is carried on.”

“Shake on it,” said the American, thrusting out a thin yellow hand with unpleasantly long nails.

“Shake hands upon the compact?” said the lieutenant good-humouredly. “Very good;” and he gave the yellow hand a good manly grip.

“Then I’m on!” cried the man effusively. “But look here, yew’re in this too;” and he stretched out his hand to Murray. “Yew’re a witness to all your chief said.”

“Oh, all right,” said Murray, and he let the long, thin, unpleasantly cold and dank fingers close round his hand, but not without a feeling of disgust which was expressed by the making of a grimace as soon as the American turned to the lieutenant again.

“That’s settled, then,” said the latter, “so go on at once and lead while we follow.”

“What!” said the American, with a look of wonder.

“I say, go on and guide us to the slaver’s nest.”

“What, just alone like this here?”

“Yes, of course. You see we are well-armed and ready to board and take the schooner at once. Fire will destroy the chief’s town.”

“Well, you do ’maze me,” said the American, showing his teeth.

“What do you mean?” said the lieutenant sternly. “Are you going to draw back?”

“Not me, mister. That’s a bargain,” said the man, grinning. “I mean that you ’maze me, you Englishers do, by your cheek. I don’t doubt you a bit. You mean it, and yew’ll dew it. Why, I dessay if yew yewrself wasn’t here this here young shaver of an officer would have a try at it hisself. You would, wouldn’t you, youngster?”

“Why, of course I would,” said Murray proudly; and then, feeling afraid that his assertion might be looked upon as braggadocio, he hastened to add, “I – I – er – meant to say that I would try, and our brave fellows would take the prisoners.”

“Nay, nay, yew would,” said the American. “There ain’t nothing to be ashamed on in being brave, is there, mister?”

“Of course not,” said the lieutenant.

“Of course not,” said the American; “but look here, sirree, it’s no good to lose brave men by trying to do things that’s a bit too strong and starky for you.”

“What, do you mean that the schooner’s crew would be too strong for us?”

“Nay, not me, mister. Yew’d chaw them up safe. But there’s the black king; he’s got close upon a hundred fighting men, chaps with spears. He’d fight too, for though they ain’t got much brains, these niggers, he’d know you’d be going to do away with his bread and cheese, as you may say. No, sirree, I ain’t a fighting man; rubber’s my line, but I want to get hold of that bit of syle – make sewer of it, as you may say; and if I’d got that job to do I should get another boatful of men if you could. Don’t know of a British ship handy, do you?”

“Of course. My captain is off the coast not far away. You did not suppose that we came alone?”

“Oh, I didn’t know, mister. Could you bring your captain then?”

“Yes.”

“And another boat?”

“Of course.”

“Then if I was you I should tell him to sail up the river.”

“What, is there water enough – deep water?” asked the lieutenant.

“Whatcher talking about?” said the man contemptuously. “Why, didn’t you see me sail out?”

The lieutenant shook his head.

“Think o’ that!” said the American. “Way in’s bit narrer, but as soon as you get threw the trees you’re in a big mighty river you can sail up for months if yew like. I have heerd that there’s some falls somewhere, but I’ve never seem ’em. Water enough? My snakes! There’s water enough to make a flood, if you want one, as soon as you get by the winding bits.”

“The river winds?” said the lieutenant.

“Winds? I should think she does! Why, look yonder, mister,” continued the man, pointing. “It’s all trees like that for miles. You’ve got to get through them.”

“Deep water?” asked the lieutenant.

“Orful! On’y it’s ’bout as muddy as rivers can be made.”

“And you assure me that you could pilot us in and right up to the slaver’s stronghold?”

“Pilot yew? Yew don’t want no piloting; all yew’ve got to do is to sail up in and out through the big wilderness of trees. Yew wouldn’t want no piloting, but if you undertake to see that I have that chief’s land, and clear him and his black crews away, I’ll lay yew off his front door where you can blow his palm-tree palace all to smithers without losing a man.”

“And what about the slaver?” asked Murray.

“What about her? She’ll be lying anchored there, of course.”

“With any colleagues?” asked the lieutenant.

“Whatche’r mean – t’others?”

“Yes.”

“Not now, mister. There’s as many as four or five sometimes, but I only see her go up the river this time. Yew should have come later on if you wanted more.”

“The slaver is up the river now, then?” said the lieutenant, looking at the man searchingly.

“Yes, of course,” was the reply, as the American involuntarily gave a look round, and then, as if taking himself to task for an act of folly, he added laughingly. “If she wasn’t up there she’d be out here, and you can see for yourselves that she ain’t.”

“You could show us the way in?” said Murray.

“Why, didn’t I say I could?” replied the man sharply.

“Yes; but I should like to have a glimpse of her first,” said Murray.

“What for, youngster? To let her know that you’re coming? You take my advice, mister, and come upon her sudden like.”

The lieutenant gazed intently upon the man.

“Yes; I should like to reconnoitre a bit first. With your assistance we ought to be able to run our boats close up under the shelter of the trees and see what she is like.”

“See what she’s like, mister? Why, like any other schooner. You take my advice; you’ll slip off and fetch your ship, and I’ll wait here till you come back.”

Murray looked at the man searchingly, for somehow a sense of doubt began to trouble him as to the man’s trustworthiness, and the lad began to turn over the position in his mind. For though the man’s story seemed to be reasonable enough, an element of suspicion began to creep in and he began to long to ask the lieutenant as to what he thought about the matter.

But he did not speak, for the keen-looking American’s eyes were upon him, and when they shifted it was only for them to be turned upon the lieutenant.

“Wal,” he said at last, “whatcher thinking about, mister?”

“About your running me up to where you could point out the schooner.”

“But I don’t want to,” said the man frankly.

“Why?” asked the lieutenant sharply.

“’Cause I don’t want to lose the chance of getting that there mile of plantation.”

“There ought to be no risk, sir, if we were careful.”

“I dunno so much about that there, mister. Them slaver chaps always sleep with one eye open, and there’s no knowing what might happen.”

“What might happen! What could happen?”

“Nothing; but the skipper might hyste sail and run his craft right up towards the falls. As I said, I never see them, but there must be falls to keep this river so full.”

“But we could follow him.”

“Part of the way p’raps, mister, but he could go in his light craft much further than you could in a man-o’-war.”

“True,” said the lieutenant; “you are right.”

“Somewhere about,” said the man, showing his teeth. “There, you slip off and fetch your ship, and I’ll cruise up and down off the mouth of the river here so as to make sure that the schooner don’t slip off. She’s just as like as not to hyste sail now that the fog’s all gone. She’d have been off before if it hadn’t come on as thick as soup. Say, ’bout how far off is your ship?”

“Half-a-dozen miles away,” said the lieutenant.

“That ain’t far. Why not be off at once?”

“Why not come with us?” asked Murray.

“Ain’t I telled yer, youngster? Think I want to come back and find the schooner gone?”

The lieutenant gazed from the American to the midshipman and back again, with his doubts here and there, veering like a weather vane, for the thought would keep attacking him – suppose all this about the slave schooner was Yankee bunkum, and as soon as he had got rid of them, the lugger would sail away and be seen no more?

“You won’t trust him, will you?” said Murray, taking advantage of a puff of wind which separated the two boats for a few minutes.

“I can’t,” said the lieutenant, in a whisper. “I was nearly placing confidence in him, but your doubt has steered me in the other direction. Hah!” he added quickly. “That will prove him.” And just then the lugger glided alongside again, and the opportunity for further communing between the two officers was gone.

“That’s what yew have to be on the lookout for, mister, when yew get sailing out here. Sharp cat’s-paws o’ wind hot as fire sometimes. Well, ain’t you going to fetch your ship?”

“And what about you?” said the lieutenant.

“Me?” said the man wonderingly, and looking as innocent as a child.

“Yes; where am I to pick you up again?”

“Oh! I’ll show you. I’ll be hanging just inside one of the mouths of the river, and then lead yew in when yew get back with yewr ship.”

Murray softly pressed his foot against his officer’s without seeming to move, and felt the pressure returned, as if to say – All right; I’m not going to trust him – and the lieutenant then said aloud —

“But why shouldn’t you sail with us as far as our sloop?”

“Ah, why shouldn’t I, after all?” said the man. “You might show me your skipper, and we could talk to him about what we’re going to do. All right; sail away if you like to chance it.”

The lieutenant nodded, and a few minutes later the two boats were gliding about half a mile abreast of the dense mangrove-covered shore in the direction of the Seafowl, and only about fifty yards apart.

“You’ll be keeping a sharp lookout for treachery in any shape, sir?” said Murray, in a low tone.

“The fellow’s willingness to fall in with my proposal has disarmed me, Mr Murray,” said the lieutenant quietly, “but all the same I felt bound to be cautious. I have given the marines orders to be ready to fire at the slightest sign of an attempt to get away.”

“You have, sir? Bravo!” said Murray, in the same low tone, and without seeming to be talking to his chief if they were observed. “But I did not hear you speak to the jollies.”

“No, Mr Murray; I did not mean you to, and I did not shout. But this caution is, after all, unnecessary, for there comes the sloop to look after us. Look; she is rounding that tree-covered headland.”

“Better and better, sir!” cried Murray excitedly. “I was beginning to fidget about the lugger.”

“What about her, Mr Murray?”

“Beginning to feel afraid of her slipping away as soon as we were out of sight.”

“You think, then, that the lugger’s people might be on the watch?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Quite possible,” said the lieutenant. “Well, we have her safe now.”

“Yes, sir; but won’t you heave to and wait?”

“To be sure, yes, Mr Murray; a good idea; and let the sloop sail up to us?”

“Won’t it make the captain storm a bit, sir, and ask sharply why we didn’t make haste and join?”

“Most likely, Mr Murray,” said the lieutenant quietly; “but if he does we have two answers.”

“The lugger, sir.”

“Yes, Mr Murray, and the discovery of the schooner.”

“Waiting to be boarded, sir,” said the midshipman.

“Exactly, Mr Murray. Any one make out the second cutter?”

“Ay, ay, sir!” cried Tom May. “There she is, sir – miles astarn of the Seafowl, sir.”

“I wish we could signal to her to lay off and on where she is.”

“What for, sir?”

“There may be one of the narrow entrances to the great river thereabouts, and the wider the space we can cover, the greater chance we shall have of preventing the slaver from stealing away.”