"Hi! Look-out, sir!" roared Tom Fillot, blowing a whistle with all his might, as he drew his cutlass, and made a cut at a dark shadow which leaped on deck; and before Mark could grasp what it all meant, other shadowy figures rushed up from below, made a desperate charge, and a moment later he, Tom Fillot, and Dick Bannock, with Stepney, were driven down into the cabin, while the body of the big black was hurled upon them, and the hatchway doors banged to. For a few moments Mark could neither get his breath nor speak. Then wriggling himself out from beneath poor Soup, he cried angrily,-- "The treacherous brutes! This is setting blacks free, so that they may turn against us. Why, they've half killed him." "And us, too, sir," groaned Tom Fillot. "I always thought they'd be too many for us." "What do you mean?" cried Mark. "Why, sir, all that caterwauling and stamping was to hide what they were about." "Who were about?" cried Mark. "Them Yankees, sir. They've done us this time. I thought they would." CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR. IN DESPERATION. "In the name of common sense, Tom Fillot, what are you talking about?" cried Mark, angrily. "The Yanks, sir." "But what have they to do with it? Oh, my arm! It's nearly dragged out of the socket. Here, speak out. What do you mean?" "Only this, sir: they were too cunning for us. They cheated us with that row they made." "Look here," cried Mark, pettishly, for he was in great pain, "I'm in no humour for listening to your rigmaroles. Help me to get this hatch undone, and then we must make a rush at them and drive them below. Nice state of affairs to beat the Americans, and all the time leave the way open for those wretched blacks to take us in the rear." "You don't see the rights of it, sir," said Tom Fillot, dismally. "Yes, I do. The blacks thought they had a good chance of getting their own way, and they took it." "Ah, you think it was the niggers, then?" "Why, of course. Bah! how stupid of me. They made that noise below in the forecastle--the Yankees, I mean." "Yes, sir, you've got the right pig by the ear now," said Tom Fillot. "They kicked up that row to cover the noise they made breaking through the bulk-heading, so as to get into the hold where the blacks are." "Yes," cried Mark, excitedly, "and the slaves fought and tried to keep them back. Of course; and we thought it was those poor fellows. Well, it was a cunning trick. A ship makes a bad prison for one's enemies." "Yes, sir; they've been one too many for us this time," said Tom Fillot. "The Yankees are sharp, and no mistake." "Do you mean to say, mate," growled Dick Bannock, "that the Yanks got out through the hold where the niggers was?" "Yes; that's it." "Oh, very well; that's it, then. Stow all that talking, mate, and let's have a go at 'em again. Strikes me we'd better drive 'em overboard this time." "Ay, but then they'd come up through the keel or in at the hawse-holes," growled Tom Fillot.