The _Tremendous_ crashed into a sea. The aftmost man on the lugger's gunwale turned. He saw the Avenger towering over him, dark wings spread, snow-drifts spurting before her. An awful horror convulsed his face. "King's ship!" came a ghastly-screaming treble. "Put back, Diamond!" The man at the tiller never stirred. One lightning arm flashed forward. "Down, George!" came a voice of thunder. "I'm going through." There was a flash in the moon; the smothered crack of a pistol; and a furious tumble of men aft. "Gor! they're knifin him!" "Their own skipper!" "That's the Gap Gang!" rose in a groaning chorus from the bows of the sloop. IV Splash followed splash. The crew of the lugger were jumping for the long-boat. The moon shone down mildly on savage waters, and a tumult of men. All about the boat was a fury of fighting. Some were in it, some in the water. Those within were slashing at the hands of those scrambling in. Every man was for himself, and every man against his neighbour. They fought like beasts, beasts who could blaspheme. Sin seen naked! Sin and its consequences! Death-screams; bellowed blasphemies; howls for mercy rose as from the pit. "No room!--It's me, Joe!--Too many aboard!--Knife the ----!--I'm done!--Elp us up!--Don't, George!" Out of the torment of howls, oaths, prayers, came again the ghastly-screaming treble. "Cut the painter!" A boy, the last on the lugger, afraid before to trust the water, jumped now. "Don't leave Jacky!" spluttered the thin boy's voice, tearful and terrified; as the little shaven head bobbed up by the boat. "Ands off!" screamed the treble. "We're sinkin a'ready. What, you little ----! then ave it! ave it! ave it!" A shrill squeal and then again that ghastly-screaming treble-- "Row, ye ----, row!" Silence; tumbling waters; and the moon, sick with horror, darkened suddenly. CHAPTER VII THE MAN IN THE LUGGER I The lugger came bowling on, one man in her stern. "Diamond's bested em!" rose in a roar from the _Tremendous_. And so it seemed. The _Kite_ was making straight for the sloop, plunging giddily, as though wounded. "All hands aloft!" roared old Ding-dong. "Back tops'ls!" There was a scamper of feet along the deck; and up the shrouds a scurry of dark figures. Above was ordered bustle; from the deck a sounding voice ruled all, as God rules the world. "Canst use a pistol, lad?" The words, swift as hail, smote Kit's ear. "I don't know, sir," babbled the boy, sick with excitement. A minute back Hell had yawned, and he had peeped in. He was still aghast. "Then find oot!" fierce as a sword. "Joomp into t'mizzen-chains, and pick off yon chap at the helm, as he cooms under ma counter." He thrust a pistol into the boy's hands. How limp the lad felt beside this masterful old man! In another moment he was standing in the chains, the dark and giddy waters swirling beneath him. The blood thumped in his temples. Was it to be his St. Vincent? his chance?