Jack slept little that night—had melancholy fore— bodings which he could not shake off; indeed, Jack had reflected so much since he had left the ship, he had had his eyes so much opened, and had felt what a responsibility he had taken by indulging himself in a whim of the moment, that it might be almost said, that in the course of one fortnight he had at once from a boy sprung up into a man. He was mortified and angry, but he was chiefly so with himself.

Mesty was up at daylight, and Jack soon followed him: they watched the party on shore, who had not yet left the tent. At last, just as Jack had finished his breakfast, one or two made their appearance: the men looked about them as if they were searching for something, and then walked down to the beach, to where the boat had been made fast. Jack looked at Mesty, who grinned, and answered with the words so often repeated:

“Stop a little.”

The men then walked along the rocks until they were abreast of the ship.

“Ship ahoy!”

“Halloo,” replied Mesty.

“Bring the boat ashore directly, with a beaker of water.”

“I knew dat,” cried Mesty, rubbing his hands with delight. “Massa Easy, you must tell them No.”

“But why should I not give them water, Mesty?”

“Because, sar, den they take boat.”

“Very true,” replied Easy.

“Do you hear on board?” cried the coxswain, who was the man who hailed—“send the boat immediately, or we’ll cut the throats of every mother’s son of you, by God!”

“I shall not send the boat,” replied Jack, who now thought Mesty was right.

“You won’t—won’t you?—then your doom’s sealed,” replied the man, walking up to the tent with the other. In a short time all the seamen turned out of the tent, bringing with them four muskets, which they had taken on shore with them.

“Good heavens! they are not, surely, going to fire at us, Mesty.”

“Stop a little.”

The men then came down abreast of the ship, and the coxswain again hailed, and asked if they would bring the boat on shore.

“You must say No, sar,” replied Mesty.

“I feel I must,” replied Jack, and then he answered the coxswain, “No.”

The plan of the mutineers had been foreseen by the wily negro—it was to swim off to the boats which were riding astern, and to fire at him or Jack, if they attempted to haul them up alongside and defend them. To get into the boats, especially the smaller one, from out of the water, was easy enough. Some of the men examined their priming and held the muskets at their hips all ready, with the muzzles towards the ship, while the coxswain and two men were throwing off their clothes.

“Stop, for God’s sake, stop!” cried Jack. “The harbour is full of ground sharks—it is, upon my soul!”