"I don't, lad, when you're put out. I never do."
"Don't speak to me like that. It maddens me more."
"No, it don't, lad. It's only me speaking, and you may hammer me with words all night if it does you good. I don't mind, I'm only Bart."
"My true old friend," whispered the other, quickly; "but it's time they were back."
"Nay, not yet," said Bart, as the other stood gazing over the side of the schooner toward where a long, low bank of mist seemed to shut out everything beyond.
"They've been gone two hours, and it's now four bells."
"Ay, and it'll be six bells before they get back, and it's a long way to row. Do you mean to try it, then?"
"Try it? Yes, if I die in the attempt. Did I hesitate when you two were on the plantation, and I was alone and--a boy?"
"Not you," said Bart.
"Then, do you think I shall hesitate now that I have a ship and followers to back me up?"
Bart shook his head.
"Abel must be saved; and the men agree."
"Ay; they say they'll have the skipper out of the prison or they'll die first."
"Brave fellows!" cried Jack, enthusiastically.
"But I don't see how a schooner's to attack forts and cannon and stone walls. My lad, it can't be done."
"It shall be done!" cried Jack. "How's Dinny?"
"Bit weak still; but he says he can fight, and he shall go."
"Brave, true-hearted fellow! And Dick?"
"Says he shall be well enough to go; but he won't--he's weak as a rat."
Jack drew a deep breath, and a fiercely vindictive look flashed from the dark eyes which glared at Bart.
"They shall suffer for all this. Abel will pay them their due."
"Ay," said Bart; and then to himself--"when he gets away."
"It was a cruel, cowardly fight--four to one."
"He would attack," said Bart, heavily. "He'd had such luck that he wouldn't believe he could be beat."
"He was right," said the other, fiercely. "He is not beaten, for we will fetch him out, and he shall pay them bitterly for all this."
The speaker strode forward, and went below into the cabin, while Bart drew his breath hard as he rose from where he had been seated and limped, slightly bending down once to press his leg where a severe flesh-wound was received on the night of the engagement when Abel Dell-- whose name had begun to be well-known for freebooting enterprise as Commodore Junk--had been taken prisoner.
Bart walked to the forecastle, where, on descending, he found Dinny and Dick Dullock playing cards, the life they had led with their three companions being one to which they had settled down without a hint of change.
"Well!" asked Dinny, looking up from his dirty cards; "what does he say?"
Dick the sailor gazed inquiringly at both in turn.
"Says he shall fetch the captain out."
Dinny whistled.
"And what does Black Mazzard say?" asked Dick.
"Don't know. Hasn't been asked."
"Look here," said Dick, in a low voice. "There's going to be trouble over this. Black Mazzard's captain now, he says, and he's got to be asked. He was down here swearing about that boat being sent off, and he's been drunk and savage ever since."
"Hist! What's that?" said Dinny, starting up, and then catching at Bart's shoulder to save himself from falling. "Head swims," he said, apologetically.
"Ay, you're weak, lad," said Bart, helping him back to his seat. "Why, the boat's back!"
He hurried on deck, to find a boat alongside, out of which four men climbed on deck, while Jack Dell, who had just heard the hail, came hurrying up.
"Well?" he said. "What news?"
The one spoken to turned away and did not answer.
"Do you hear?" cried Jack, catching him by the shoulder as a heavy-looking man came on deck, lurched slightly, recovered himself, and then walked fiercely and steadily up to the group.
"Bad news, captain," said another of the men, who had just come aboard.
"Bad--news?" said Jack, heavily.
"Bad news of the Commodore!" said the heavy-looking fellow, who was now swaying himself to and fro, evidently drunk in body but sober in mind.
"Yes," said the man who had first spoken, "bad news."
"Tell me," cried Jack, hoarsely, as he pressed forward to gaze full in the speaker's face, "what is it? They have not sent him away?"
The man was silent; and as the rest of the crew, attracted by the return of the boat, clustered round, Jack reeled.
"Stand by, my lad," whispered Bart at his ear. "Don't forget."
The words seemed to give nerve to the sturdy, broad-shouldered young man, who spoke hoarsely.
"Tried and condemned," he said, in a hoarse, strange voice.
"They've hung him--"