The white sailors, carried away by the stampede, and
separated from each other, were unable to act. The captain, drawing
a brace of pistols from his belt, fired one shot, but before he
could fire another Frank hurled the iron belaying pin at him. It
struck him in the face, and he fell insensible. The Belgian
sailors, seeing themselves altogether outnumbered, and without a
leader, threw down their arms.
"Tie their hands and feet," Frank ordered, "and bundle them into
one of the native boats."
Two of these had pushed off and lay fifty yards away, and the sea
was dotted with the heads of swimmers making towards them. The
Belgian sailors were placed in the other boat.
"Put their captain in, too," Frank said. "He will come round
presently.
"Now four of you jump into our boat and cast her off.
"Captain, will you look about for the oil, and pour it over all the
beds, but don't set them on fire until I give the order.
"Now, lads, two of you run below, and get the cushions off the
starboard sofa.
"Purvis, get the skylight open on the port side, and wheel the two
guns round, and point them down into the cabin. I will train them
myself on the same spot just at the back of that seat.
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