As the black saw them he uttered a low, savage roar, and pointed to his shoulder, which had been grazed by a pistol ball, the smarting making the great fellow grin with rage and roll his eyes. "Hi, below there!" cried Mark, the excitement making him forget all danger. "Hand up that pistol and any other weapons you have, or we'll fire down among you." The answer was a flash, a sharp report, and a puff of smoke, Mark being conscious of a whizzing sound close by one ear. "You scoundrels!" he cried, passionately. "Surrender; do you hear?" "Not we," came in a familiar voice. "S'render yourselves. You're not Queen's officers, only pirates, and I'm going to retake my ship." "If that pistol is not thrown out on the deck, sir, I give the orders to fire," cried Mark. "That's jist what you darn't do, mister," said the American skipper. "Let 'em have it, sir," whispered Tom Fillot, excitedly. But Mark felt as if the skipper's words were correct, and that he dare not fire down into that cabin to the destruction of some poor wretch's life, so he did not--to use Tom Fillot's expression--"Let 'em have it," but gave orders sharply in the way of defence, and not attack. "Clap on the hatch, Tom," he shouted; and the covering, which had been forced off in some way, was thrust back and held down for a moment or two, before Tom leaped away as a shot crashed through, and the hatch was driven off once more. By this time the rest of the men were gathered round, and it was just as well, for a daring attempt was made to climb on deck, but only for each man who attempted the feat to be sent down again by a blow on head or shoulder. "If you'd give orders, sir," said Tom, "we'd soon have that hatch over again, and fifty fathom o' chain cable piled atop." "I don't like risking you men's lives," said Mark; "but there's no going back now; it must be done." "Come on, Dick Bannock," cried Tom Fillot, rolling up his sleeves. "You chaps stand by with the end of that cable." Another shot was fired from the forecastle, and directly after the muzzle of a pistol appeared over the side with a hand directing it, when _bang_, _crash_--down came Soup's capstan bar, striking pistol and hand with such good effect that they were snatched back, and a burst of fierce oaths came up. "Well done, my lad!" cried Mark; and the black looked at him and showed his white teeth as he stood watchful, and ready, with the bar raised for another blow. By this time the men had laid hold of the end of the cable and drawn some two or three fathoms up from the little forward compartment, while Tom Fillot and Bannock seized the loose hatch ready to clap on. "No, no," cried Mark, hastily; "don't expose yourselves needlessly, my lads. Lie down and crawl toward the hatchway, pushing the cable before you." "Thought you'd fancy we were cowardly, sir," said Tom, obeying his orders.