"Well, what is it, sir?" "I only wanted to say, sir, as I was down below, and I kep' on saying to the lads, sir, as was a teasing the niggers--" "The blacks, my man," said the captain, sharply. "Yes, your honour, the black niggers, sir. `Let 'em bide,' I says; `what's the good o' teasing 'em? You'll only make 'em want to bite.' But they wouldn't take no notice o' what I said, sir, and kep' it up till the poor chaps turned savage like, and it was hooroar, and all the fat in the fire." "Stop, sir!" cried the captain, sternly. "Speak plain English, sir." "Yes, sir; that's what I'm a-trying to do, sir." "You say that the men were teasing and baiting the two black hands, and you advised them not to?" "Well, your honour, it was hardly adwice, because I said I'd shove my fist in someone's eye if he didn't let the poor beggars bide." Mr Staples uttered a curious sound, and the captain coughed. "Ah, well, you tried to make them stop their cowardly, unmanly tricks." "That's it, your honour." "Then now give me the names of the men who were guilty, and as each man's name is called let him stand out three paces to the front. Go on." Joe Dance scratched his head, but did not speak. "Now, coxswain, speak out. The first man?" "Adam," whispered Bob to Mark, at whose elbow he now stood, and Mark jerked back his elbow into the boy's chest. "Well, sir, who was the first man?" cried the captain. "Beg pardon, your honour," said Joe Dance, gruffly; "it was down in the fo'c'sle." "I know that, sir, but I want to know the names." A faint sound arose as if several men had drawn a deep breath. "Do you hear me, Dance?" cried the captain. "Oh yes, your honour." "He won't tell tales of his messmates," said Bob, with his lips close to Mark's ear. "Silence, Mr Howlett!" cried the captain, sternly. "Now, Dance, the names?" "Beg pardon, your honour, but there was only one dip a-going in the lantern, and it didn't give light enough to tell which was your right hand and which was your left." "The names, sir!" cried the captain, as once more there was the sound of a deep breath. "Couldn't give yer one of 'em, sir, unless it was Tom Fillot." "Hah! Stand out, sir." "Why, I was taking my trick at the wheel, your honour," cried Tom Fillot, in tones of protest. "So you was, messmet," growled Dance; "so you was. There, your honour," he continued, turning to the captain, "you see how dark it were." "Try again, sir," said the captain, sternly. "Dick Bannock," said Dance. "Which I were o' dooty in my watch, mate," cried the man. "Ay, so you was, messmet. No, your honour, it were too dark. P'r'aps," he added, cunningly, "one o' the blacks knows." Here there was a murmur.