“It might be amusing to you, sir,” replied Jack laughing, “but it would be death to any black who came within the swing of either of the cutlasses carried by Brice and McLeod. I picked up a half dozen of those old swords at a sale in Manila, and decorated my cabin with them. When I told the men that there might be a fight they could find no other weapons on board ship so denuded my cabin of its decorations and brought them along. Of course I have a revolver but in a rush those old cutlasses could do fearful execution. They are heavy and as sharp as razors.” “While I am unwilling to take even a remote risk with Lucy and your mother in the house, still in my opinion there is not one chance in a million that anything but bluff and bluster will come of this muttering. Admiral Snave is always anxious for a fight, and the wish is father of the thought in this alarm,” said the old gentleman. “Why isn’t Burton here?” asked Jack almost angrily. “He is up stairs. He has been feeling ill all day and asked not to be disturbed unless he be needed. I shall let him rest. However, he has a revolver and is an excellent shot and will prove a valuable aid to us should the fools attempt to molest the premises.” For an hour or two Brice and McLeod exchanged an occasional word or two but gradually these brief speeches became less frequent and finally ceased altogether. Mr. Dunlap and Jack carried on a desultory conversation for some time, but had sat in silent communion with their own thoughts for possibly an hour when, under the somnific influence of the night songsters, the Scotch ship-carpenter yawned, rose to his feet and stretched his long, hairy arms. He paused in the act and thrust forward his head to catch some indistinct sound, then growled, “I hear murmuring like surf on a lee-shore.” Brice arose and listened for a minute then called out, “Captain, I hear the sound of bare feet pattering on the highway.” Jack was on his feet in an instant and ran down the walk to the gate in the high brick wall that surrounded the premises. He came running back almost immediately and said in low voice as he reached the piazza. “There is a mob coming toward the house, along the road leading from the mountains. They carry torches and may mean mischief. Cousin John, will you have Burton called and will you please remain here to look after the women. Brice you and McLeod get cutlasses and bring me one also. We will meet the mob at the gate.” “Oh! It is nothing Jack, maybe a negro frolic. No use arousing Burton,” said the elder Dunlap. “If you please, sir, do as I ask. I will be prepared in any event,” said Jack Dunlap tersely. “All right, Commander, the laugh will be at your expense,” cried the amused old gentleman as he ordered a servant to call Burton.