"That's so, sir, and they don't seem to have no memories. You'd think they'd all be fretting to get away ashore, and back home; but look at 'em: they don't, and it seems to me that they're not troubling themselves much about to-morrow or next day neither." The young sailor appeared to be quite right, for hour by hour as the horrors of the slaver's hold grew more remote, the little crowd of blacks forward appeared to be more cheerful. Mark's great trouble was the state of Mr Russell, who still lay calmly enough either below in the Yankee skipper's cot, or under an awning the sailors had rigged up on the deck. He ate and drank mechanically, but made not the slightest sign when spoken to, and for his sake Mark kept every stitch of sail on that the schooner could bear, so as to reach medical assistance as soon as possible. Dance was decidedly better, but subject to fits of absence; and on these occasions Tom Fillot said he was mad as a hatter. But in spite of the anxieties and the terrible feeling of responsibility, Mark found something very delightful in being the captain for the time being of the smart schooner which sailed swiftly along at the slightest breath of wind. There was the hot, hazy shore on his right, and the glistening sea on his left, an ample crew which he could recruit if he liked from the blacks, and all ready to obey his slightest order with the greatest alacrity. He felt at times as if he would be glad to sight the _Nautilus_, and so be relieved of all his cares; but, on the other hand, he could not help feeling that he would be sorry to give up and return to the midshipman's berth. "I wish, though, that Bob Howlett was here," he said to himself, as he longed for a companion of his own age and position. "I don't know, though," he said, directly after. "If Bob were here, he would not like to knuckle under and play second fiddle. Well, I shouldn't either. Perhaps it's best is it is, I'm captain, and can do as I like, only it isn't always nice to do as one likes, and I often feel as if it would be much nicer to have some one to order me." But there was no one to order him, and with the whole responsibility upon his shoulders, he for the first time in his life began to realise what it meant to be the captain of a ship, answerable for everything thereon. CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE. A HORRIBLE THOUGHT.