"Beg pardon, sir," said the coxswain of the first cutter; "some of the lads got skylarking and playing tricks with the two black hands." "_Who_ did?" said the captain, sternly. "Beg pardon, sir, didn't see, sir, but it made the two niggers wild, and one got a knife and the other a marlin-spike; and if they hadn't been held there'd ha' been murder done, and--" "Man overboard!" was yelled from right forward where the fishing had been going on, and following a loud splashing from just beneath the ship's counter came that most thrilling of cries to send the blood coursing back even from the strongest man's cheek. "Boat, boat--Help--help!" In tropic waters just as the sun had sunk below the horizon, and the rapid darkness was coming on. CHAPTER TWELVE. DANCE MAKES MISTAKES. "He's tangled with the line," came in a clear voice, which Mark recognised as Bob's, and a shudder ran through him. It needs all the strict discipline and long training to prevent confusion even on board a man-of-war, in a time of emergency. Here the disposition of the men was to run to the ship's side, and shout words of advice, but a sharp command or two brought the crew back to order, and the men rushed to the boat nearest to the spot where the man was struggling in the water. It was a fine, smart young sailor, who had been standing on a stay below the bowsprit, holding on with one hand, and straining out to aim a good throw at a large fish gliding beneath the bows. He had darted the harpooning "grains" or trident, struck the fish deeply, but from inexperience he had not carefully arranged the line attached to the staff. The result being that there was a sudden rush on the part of the fish as soon as it was struck, a ring of the line was tightened round the man's arm in a firm tangled knot, and he was jerked from his hold and dragged down into the deep water for some distance before he rose again, struggling wildly and calling for help. He would get his lips above water for a moment or two, and then be dragged under again. Then he would rise to the surface and shriek for help in tones which thrilled his hearers. "Quick, my lads!" roared the first lieutenant. "Bless the man! Why can't he cut himself loose?" There was a gurgling cry and silence, as the wheels of the falls chirruped and the boat began to descend; but at that moment there was a fresh excitement plainly seen from where Mark had tottered to the bulwark, and stood looking over the side at what seemed to be a moving shadow, far down under the surface, jerked about in a most extraordinary manner. He looked round sharply, for there was a loud cry, a babble of tongues, and the shouting of fresh orders, and simultaneously a life-buoy splashed in the sea, near where the man had been dragged down; the boat was descending and a white figure was seen to leap on to the bulwarks after a desperate struggle to free itself from those who had held it, and plunge head-first into the darkening waters.