The threat of violence which Thrasher uttered against the delicate creature at his feet, might have been only an ebullition of his dormant hatred of the boy—the bitterest and most deadly hatred known to humanity—that of a bad man for the object he has wronged; but wanton or earnest, the threat had its effect, for Rice strode to Thrasher's side, and bending to his ear, whispered.

"I say, captain, we've had enough of this ere, I reckon. Jest order the men to unsling that nigger, or I will."

Thrasher took the cigar from his mouth, and held it smoking between his fingers.

"What's the meaning of this, Rice?" he said, mildly, knocking the loose ashes away with his little finger, as he eyed the seaman with a keen side glance.

"What I said afore; we've had enough of flogging for one day, at any rate."

"I'd do any thing to oblige you, Rice, be sure of that, any thing but give up my authority before the men."

"The men don't know what I'm saying to you. Anyway, jest give orders for 'em to wait till we understand one another."

The mate lifted his hand, at which signal the man who had just raised the lash, which was growing red and wet in the sunshine, dropped it heavily. The thong fell upon the deck, leaving a crimson trail along the white boards, while its holder stood panting and out of breath from the violence of his exercise.

"Well now, Rice, what is the meaning of all this?" said the mate, a little anxiously.

"It don't mean nothing, only this, captin—I won't have that ere nigger struck another blow in this child's hearin'. As for the nigger hisself, I don't care a quid of tobaccer, but human natur' can't stand that sight—at any rate, I cant and won't—so if you expect me to keep a close jaw, order them to let the nigger down at once."

"Hush—speak lower, Rice. You see I must keep up my authority. You can understand that. I'd give the fellow up with pleasure to please you, Rice; but this is the first punishment on board since I came into the command."

"Since you came into the command—jest so."

"And if I give up now, it'll be all day with my authority; and that'll never do."

"There's something in that ere," answered Rice, with an uneasy hitch of his garments, "but then there mustn't be no more flogging afore this little chap, no how. I don't want to be obstroperous neither. Supposing you shut the fellow up, and keep him on bread and water a few days—I shouldn't mind that."

"But, he's a good cook—we can't spare him, Rice."

"Must," answered the sailor.

"Must," repeated the mate, with a gleam in his side glance.

"Must," repeated Rice, settling his garments afresh.

The mate hesitated awhile, eyeing the sailor askance, but Rice stood solidly on the deck, looking him in the face as if certain of his answer.

"Very well, pass the order. Remember, I let off a dozen lashes, and give him irons, with bread and water, in exchange. Make that well understood."

"Aye, aye, never you fear," was the prompt reply.

"As for this imp of Satan," said the mate, spurning the prostrate boy lightly with his foot, "I'll deal with him."

"Don't do that, Mr. Thrasher; you've struck that ere child once too often. Try it agin, and there ain't a man on board this 'ere brig as won't rise agin you."

"Indeed!" said Thrasher, closing his teeth hard, "and you——"

"I'll head 'em, and take you home in irons."

Thrasher turned a dull white, and, for an instant, a sound as if his teeth were beginning to chatter, came faintly through his lips, but he turned it off with a laugh.

"Hang me if I care what you do with the fellow or the boy. I only wish we had left them behind; that would have settled it once for all."

"But seeing as they're here, I won't stand by and have 'em murdered outright."

"Well, well, as you like; it won't pay for us to quarrel, Rice."

"Enough said, captain."

"Now I'll go down and finish my breakfast," said Thrasher, tossing the end of his cigar overboard. "Confounded coffee the fellow sent down; that was what commenced the row, I believe; but I'll try another cup."

"Aye, aye, better go down and leave the rest to me," said Rice, stooping tenderly over the boy. "Come, get up, my little chap; it's all over! No use wilting down in this way! poor fellow, poor fellow, how he shakes!"

The child, who had been lying with a hand pressed hard over each ear, lifted his head, and turned his white face on the seaman.

"Is it over? Have they killed him? Oh! Jube, Jube!"

This pathetic cry reached the unhappy man, who had just been taken down from his place of torture. With his helpless hands hanging loose, and the red drops falling from his shoulders, he came reeling across the deck, and lay down by the boy, like a great Newfoundland dog wounded unto death.

Paul received him with a gush of tears. He took the handkerchief of delicate cambric from his bosom, where it had rested sacred till then, for his mother had placed it there, and tenderly wiped the drops of agony that still hung on Jube's brow. The poor negro, always treated with gentle household kindness till then, moaned aloud, not with the pain—he was brave enough, poor fellow—but from a sense of the desolation that had fallen on his master's son.

"Oh, young master, young master, who will help you now when Jube has only the power of a dog left? never 'till now, never 'till now, was Jube striped with a whip! What will become of him? He had nothing but his strength, and they have taken that!"

"Come, come," said Rice, "it isn't all over yet, by a long shot."

The negro looked up with his heavy, bloodshot eyes, in which there was a gleam of patient heroism that touched the sailor greatly, while the boy grew faint and gasped for breath.

"Don't, don't," pleaded Rice, patting the boy gently with his rough hand. "As for you, cuffy, keep a stiff upper lip. I'm to put you in the hold, and feed you on bread and water; but I'll see that the handcuffs ain't too tight, and as for the grub, why some of us chaps will go on half rations to give you a meal now and then."

"I don't care about the place you put me in," said Jube, mournfully, "or what they feed me on. If they chain me down hands and feet I won't say one word; but the little master, what will they do with him?" "Never you mind about that, cuffy; I'll see to him. He shall have enough to eat, any how."

"But that man—he'll strike poor little master again, and Jube chained down in the bottom of the ship."

The great tears rolled over Jube's face as he said this, and he shook violently.

"No," said Rice, with an honest sailor's oath, which was profane in its language, but noble in its meaning, "the captain shan't touch him agin, I give you my hand on it."

Jube took the rough hand in his trembling grasp and kissed it gratefully.

"Take me down, Mr. Captain, take me down; get out the irons; bring on the bread and water; you'll see that Jube will wear 'em, and sing like a bird, so long as you take care of him."

"That's hearty now," cried Rice, pleased to the depth of his really kind heart. "Just give up, and it'll be all the easier. I've had the bracelets on in my puppy days, over and agin. It aint nothing."

"I'm ready," answered Jube, making a brave effort to smile, and staggering to his feet, where he stood shaking all over from the shock of pain that had been given to his whole system. "I'm ready. Good-by, little master."

Paul set up on the deck, and lifted his hands pitifully, while his pale, cramped features began to quiver with coming tears.

"Botheration, 'taint nothing. I'll smuggle the little craft down to see you every day, if not oftener. Do you hear that, shaver?"

Tears swelled into the boy's eyes, and he covered them with his hands, moaning painfully. Rice was a good deal troubled that his efforts at consolation had so little effect, but all at once his face brightened, and thrusting a hand deep into the pocket of his trowsers, he brought forth a huge jackknife, and opened it temptingly.

"Look a here, little whipper-snapper, just look a here, no doubt about it, I'm a going to give you this very identical knife, I am, sure as a gun."

The boy took his hands away, and gazed wonderingly at the great, buck-horn handle, and the hooked blade, to which tiny fragments of plug tobacco clung lovingly.

"All right," he said, closing the blade with a jerk. "I thought you'd be surprised. Isn't it a sneezer? Where's your pocket?"

As Rice thrust the knife into the silken lined pocket of Paul's dress, the boy looked downward with vague interest; but, all at once, his face brightened. He snatched at the knife eagerly, and tried to open it.

"It's rather stiff, I reckon, for them little fingers," said Rice, opening the knife again; "but, never you mind, I'll drop a little lamp ile on the jint, and it'll open easy as whistling, it will."

"Is it strong-is it sharp?" cried the boy, touching the hooked blade with his delicate fingers. "Would it kill a man?"

"Why, Lord love yer eyes, yes! Jest turn the pint upwards, and it'd rip its way like blazes. But what der ye ask that for?"

"Jube," said the boy, in sad, earnest tones, holding up the knife, "if he strikes me again, and you are by, just take this and kill me at his feet. I'd rather die a thousand times than live to see you whipped for my sake." "Give it to me," said Jube, with a gleam of his old African ferocity. "I'll use it, but not on you, little master—not on you!"

"Look a here," said Rice, hitching about uneasily in his clothes. "You jest let the boy's knife alone, will ye? I guv it to him for a plaything, and it's hisen, not yourn. Do ye want to be slung up again? Here comes the captin—now up with ye, for I must be cross as blazes, or he'll think we're confabulating something against him. Come, look sharp, nigger, I can't wait here all day for you to snivel over a flogging as you ought to be grateful for, 'cause you arned it." To this Rice added, in a low tone: "Look scared, as if I had been a worrying you tooth and nail, or he won't trust you with me." Then raising his voice, he went on abusing poor Jube, till the mate came forward with a smile upon his face.

"That's right, my good fellow, take him down. He'll be an example for the men. They're beginning to want one. Off with him—plenty of irons, and don't be too particular about the bread or the water either."

"Aye, aye, I'll see to him," cried Rice, ferociously. "Come, march, tramp—off with you, cuffy! You never seed sich a pair of bracelets as I've got for ye down below."

Jube kept his eyes bent to the deck, that no one might mark the ferocious hate that burned in them—hate that re-strung his nerves, and made them tough as iron.

"You'll learn to threaten me!" said the captain, scoffing at the negro, as he passed.

Jube did not lift his eyes, but passed on. Paul arose and followed. "Hallo! what is the youngster after?" cried Thrasher.

"I want to go with Jube," said the boy, shuddering under the captain's eye.

"You want to go with Jube, ha!" cried the mate, mocking the gentle tones, which might have won pity from a Nero. "Well, you won't go with Jube, do you hear that? I aint likely to give up cook and cabin-boy, too, so just march for the caboose."

Rice turned back, leaving Jube near the gangway. "Look a here, captain," he said, in a low voice. "Don't put upon that little shaver so! It's too bad; he's a peaked child, just out of his mother's lap, and this ere sort of work will kill him sure as a gun."

"Well, if it does, Rice, what's the loss?"

"Wal, it'd be a good deal to me, anyhow. I've sort a took a shine to the boy."

"That's unfortunate," sneered the mate, "because I, being commander here, have just done the other thing."

"Hate him like pison—I knowed it from the first."

"Well, what of it?"

"Nothing—only as I've took a notion to him, and he kinder likes me, supposing you jest give in a trifle, and let the chap alone. I shall be much obleeged to you if you will."

Thrasher turned on his heel, saying, with assumed carelessness, for he did not like the gleam of those gray eyes, "Well, well, we'll talk about that another time."

"Aye, aye," responded the sailor, with a nod of the head, which had a meaning in it that Thrasher did not like.