Captain Shannon had recovered and had tried to rise into a sitting position, but the lines upon him were none too softly drawn, and he found himself stiff as a mummy, being lashed from above his able elbows to his long and pointed shoes.

Mr. Curtis, who had arrived on deck in time to take part in the fracas, now insisted that our captive be set free on the promise that he would not attempt to either make further disturbances or go overboard.

“Disturbance! I wanter know,” said Shannon, “who’s the one makin’ the disturbance? Here I just politely hopped aboard your ole barque, an’ some gorilla in breeches nabs me by the mizzen and jest naturally stops my bazoo. Why didn’t ye finish the job instead o’ bringing me to again to swing me at your yard-arm.”

“We don’t intend to swing you,” said Curtis. “If you behave yourself, we’ll promise not to harm you until--until--”

“Until what, I wanter know?” said Shannon.

It was evident that Mr. Curtis had meant to say that he would deliver him over to the authorities of law and order at the first port touched, but, upon consideration, this seemed manifestly absurd. The Gentle Hand was not hunting authorities for law and order just at the time, and the matter must necessarily be settled by the parties interested, which, after all, is considered not unfair by most human beings who do not care to bother their neighbours with their personal affairs.

While this was taking place, Miss Allen, who had remained below to escape injury during the engagement, now appeared on deck, and instantly noticed the captive. She gazed at him in astonishment, and asked how he came aboard.

He seemed as much surprised at seeing a woman aboard a slaver as if she had been a naval officer in uniform. As he solemnly swore that he would not fight any more, his lashings were cast adrift below his waist, and he was raised to his feet.

“Well, I wanter know,” was his first comment, as he stood looking at the trader’s daughter. “Be you goin’ to make the middle passage, miss?”

The “middle passage” was that from the slave coast, with human freight, to the point of destination of the slave, and the term was used to distinguish that part of the voyage from the one out and the return. The term was American, but applied as well to British ships, who, like ourselves, sailed first out of some English port. Miss Allen smiled at the long fellow and looked into his faded yellow eyes, but she disdained to answer him, and he was hustled forward by several men, while he broke forth afresh in a low tone, pouring a stream of the foulest invective upon them in the easy and indolent manner that was characteristic of his speech.

During the following fortnight we made good way to the southward, passing the high peak of Teneriffe the third day out of Funchal, leaving it a dark cloud upon the eastern horizon. We held our course now closer in toward the coast, but still distant enough to be offshore from any cruiser that might be watching for slave-ships.

Then we crossed the line and stood in through the Guinea Current for the Gulf, heading straight for the Bight of Benin.

Our captive had by this time given abundant evidence that he could be trusted about the decks without danger of his trying to escape. In fact, he appeared to take a fancy to The Gentle Hand.

Martin, who appeared drawn to the fellow, several times announced that it was a shame to keep his hands in irons, and, after repeating this to Henry and Mr. Gull for some days, it reached Hawkson and the captain.

We were now three men short in the crew, and an extra man, especially of Shannon’s build and energy, was a matter to be considered. The mate held out strenuously for either putting the long fellow ashore or hanging him forthwith, but, as Curtis, Hicks, and the rest were absolutely set against such a measure as capital punishment, and the land was some distance off, the inevitable took place. That is, Shannon was practically shanghaied into the ship, but chose to sign articles of his own free will to become a member of her crew, and was regularly installed.

His great delight was to dwell humourously upon the adventure of the treasure-box in Funchal, telling at some length how Brannigan, his mate, who had come aboard in the chest, had dropped right upon Jennings, the Dutch sailor’s back, when he went over the side. This accounted for the state of Jennings’s head, for the skipper assured us that Mr. Brannigan was a man of parts, and could do up a whole ship full of square-heads. He explained how angry he had become at the mistake he had made in taking Mr. Gull’s boat for the one meant for him, and how he had thrashed each member of the boat’s crew for not pulling harder and getting under the stern half a minute sooner. The only thing that prevented our capture in the last encounter was the fact that Brannigan had failed to jump aboard, but if he had, the two of them could easily have taken the barque.

While we had some doubts about the last statement, we were entertained to a high degree, and Shannon became rapidly a favourite. More especially as we had already had some evidence of his prowess, and a look from his faded eyes following a drawling request for tobacco or other commodity had the usual effect of producing considerable attention from the person addressed. His arms, of course, had been delivered aft, but he had a way of gazing at one that made a person feel that his good-will was of the utmost value. Martin was his devoted companion, and Anderson, who had been badly bruised and stunned by the shot that had killed Pete, even forgave the damage and appeared much more friendly than we had reason to expect. Bill and I had several talks over the Scot’s peculiar manner with the stranger, and we became more friendly and confidential over the subject. Big Jones kept his own counsel, and seemed to admire the long limbs of the Yankee skipper, yet did not care too much for his company.

Jorg, with a gang of helpers consisting of Tom and Tim, two Liverpool dock-rats of the other watch, and Ernest and Heligoland, kept hard at work repairing the damage done us by the brig’s six-pounders, and were hardly finished by the time we sighted the low coast near Lagos.

The haze which hangs over the surf in the Guinea Gulf hides the land until a vessel is almost upon it. We were close in, and could hear the dull thunder of the swell falling upon the sand before we realized that the run was over, and the work of trading and capturing human beings would begin.

No time was lost after we came to soundings. The boats were made ready and the anchors gotten over the bows, while the topsails, though clewed up, were left hanging ready to sheet home at a moment’s warning. A man was posted in the foretop all day, and everything done to prevent a surprise of some prowling man-of-war. Even Hawkson showed signs of peculiar alertness, and his nervousness, though slight, was quickly transmitted to both Gull and Henry.

Only old Howard seemed impervious to the excitement, and ambled about the poop unconcernedly, watching the shore until we had reached the mouth of a low, marshy river.

The breeze was off the land, and the barque was hove to, while the small boat was manned and sent in with Yankee Dan and Hicks to see if there were any negroes to be procured.

I managed to pull stroke oar, and went more to see how the business was to be conducted than anything else. We had half a dozen muskets in the boat, with powder and lead, to use in defence, if necessary, or in trade if possible. Yankee Dan was so nervous that Hicks insisted on taking the tiller as we headed for the beach, and he picked up a loaded gun and laid it handy upon the stern-sheets in case of emergency.

The breeze being light and offshore, the heat of the equatorial sun was intense. It was about nine o’clock in the morning when the barque stood in, and it was nearly eight bells now, the sun being at its height, and the sky a brazen dome of heat above us.

It took quite half an hour to pull in, for the shore was really several miles distant, and by the time we neared the huge white combers rolling in upon the sand, we were so hot that under other conditions an upset in the breakers would have been welcomed by all hands.

As it was, we skirted the shore just outside the lift of the outer breaker, and soon found an opening over the bar at the river mouth. Hicks headed in through this opening, regardless of consequences, and we were soon carried by the current well in behind the southern point of sand. Here we found the marshy banks of the river stretching away inland, and upon one just behind a little rise covered with low trees, we saw the slave factory, as the pens were called where the unfortunates were corralled.

There was not a sign of life anywhere, and the only sound that broke the glaring stillness was the deep-toned roar of the surf outside.

Suddenly there was a sharp “ping,” and a crack upon the boat’s gunwale, followed by the report of a rifle.

“Way enough,” said Hicks, calmly. And we rested on our oars, with our chins on our shoulders, trying to see who had welcomed us so cordially.

Yankee Dan stood up and waved his hat from side to side, in token of friendship, and almost instantly a man strode out from the palisade, now but fifty fathoms distant.

“Stop that firing and come aboard,” bawled the trader.

“Give way together,” said Hicks, and we sent the boat rapidly towards the beach, and ran her nose high and dry on the sand.