"Ask yewr young skipper to pitch us down a little 'bacco, will you, mister? My lads here is out, and they want to make their miserable lives happy." "I oughtn't to let them have any," thought Mark; "but it may keep them quiet. I hope they will not set the ship on fire." So a roll of tobacco was thrown down to them through the ventilator, pipes were evidently lit, for the strong fumes came up, and the singing and dancing went on again more uproariously than ever, till Mark began to feel annoyed. "The brutes!" he said to himself; "they've been asleep all day and can sit up all night. Ah, well, they're prisoners, so I will not be too hard upon them." Just then Tom Fillot left his post for a moment. "They must have got some grog below, sir, or they wouldn't keep on dancing like that. Nuff to tire anyone." "Oh, let them enjoy themselves," said Mark; "it's better than hatching plans to attack us." It was now within about an hour of daybreak, and Mark kept on looking longingly away over the mist eastward, in hopes of seeing the stars begin to grow pale. But all was deep, dark night at present, and he paced the deck, going from place to place, listening to the uproar made by the Americans, which was as loud as ever. "Yes," said Mark at last. "They must have got some spirits down below, Tom, or they would never keep up noise like that." Just as he was speaking one of the prisoners finished off a dance with a tremendous stamp, stamp, stamp, and the others began to applaud and cheer vociferously. Then all was silent, and Mark exclaimed,-- "At last!" "Perhaps they'll go to sleep now, sir, and I hope they won't wake again for a week." "Why, what's the matter now?" cried Mark. "I'm not going to have the blacks begin. Here, pass the word for Soup--Pish! I mean for the big black." "Ay, ay, sir;" and Soup came up quickly, all excitement at the noise going on in the hold. "Why, they're quarrelling and getting up a fight," cried Mark, as the noise increased; and there was evidently a struggle, while blows were being struck and savage cries arose. "Go down and stop it," cried Mark. "Stupid idiots! Why can't they be still?" Soup ran to the hold hatch and lowered himself rapidly down, just as the noise below culminated in shrieks and yells, while the fighting was rapidly growing desperate. "We must go down and stop it," said Mark. "Shall I pipe all hands on deck, sir?" cried Tom. "No, no; we can quiet them. Get a light. They'll settle down as soon as they see me." Tom Fillot fetched a lantern, and two men who had heard the fierce yelling came up to see just as Mark reached the ladder, and was about to descend, when, to his astonishment, Soup came rushing up, and fell heavily upon the deck. "Why, Soup, my lad, have they attacked you?" cried Mark, taking the lantern to hold over the prostrate black.