I stopped speaking, staring at one of the faces before me; all at once it appeared familiar.

“What is your name, my man?”

“Jim Carter, sir.”

“You were in the crew of the Sinbad, three years ago?”

“I was that, Mister Carlyle,” he answered grinning.  “I know’d you the minute I cum down yere.”

“Then that is all I need say on that line.  Here’s one of your mates, lads, who will vouch for me.  Now, as I’ve been told, you are all of you in the same boat—­you are prisoners on board, cowed by those mongrel devils amidships.  Do you understand what I say?”

“If ye’d put it in Spanish, sir,” said Carter respectfully, “an’ talk kinder slow, they’d most ov ’em catch the meanin’.  That’s ’bout all the lingo we’ve heard lately.”

“Very well; now listen closely, all of you.  Luck has given us a chance to make a break, and get away.  Captain Sanchez is wounded and helpless.  Pedro Estada is dead, and I’ve got Manuel locked in that stateroom.  His cut-throats are all below, and now all we’ve got to do is clap on the hatch and keep them there.”

“What ’bout the nigger on watch?” broke in Jones hoarsely.  “I’d like ter crook him, by God.”

“He’s with us so far.  I’ll answer for him.  Now, what I want to know is are you fellows with me?”

Watkins answered up promptly; then Carter; the others joining in with less heartiness, the different accents revealing their nationalities.  I knew sailors well enough to feel assured they would follow their leaders once the game started.

“That’s good enough; now we’ve got to hit hard and quick, lads.  There are six men on deck who are not with us.  Watkins will take care of them with those fellows I don’t assign to other work.  Jones, you and Carter make straight for the forecastle and don’t let anyone come up the scuttle.  One of you had better drop down below, and prevent any of those lads from unbarring the door leading amidships.  Who is the best for that job?”

“Let Carlson do it.  He belongs to the starboard watch.”

“All right—­Carlson it is then.  You Frenchmen, and the two negroes, your part will be to ship the main hatch.  Do a quick job, and clamp it down tight.  Do you all understand just what you are to do?”

The responses satisfied me.

“I’ll come down to you, Carlson, as soon as we have the deck.  It ought not to take more than five minutes to handle those lads, and slew around a carronade.  Now don’t be afraid to hit hard.  Watkins, you and Carter hand out the cutlasses from the rack; you boys will handle those better than firearms.  Good; now are you all ready?”

There was a low murmur of voices, the faces watching me showing their increasing excitement and eagerness.  Our little talk had served to arouse their confidence in my leadership, and with gleaming weapons in their hands they became self-reliant volunteers.  Once turned loose my greatest difficulty might be to restrain them, rather than urge them on.  Revenge for past wrongs was in each heart, and they welcomed a chance to strike and kill.