Shortly after thePetrel'sanchor had been let go, under the island of Villegagnon, a galley, manned by brawny blacks, came off to the yacht; a Brazilian gentleman in uniform leapt on deck and introduced himself as the doctor of the port. On hearing that the vessel was an English yacht sailing under an Admiralty flag he raised no difficulties, but granted Carew pratique at once, despite the absence of a clean bill of health from Rotterdam.
When the health boat had gone off again, Carew ordered the dinghy to be lowered. "I will go on shore at once, Baptiste," he said. "I will call on the British consul, and ask him for a clean bill of health for Buenos Ayres. We won't stay longer than is necessary in this unhealthy place."
"May I suggest," replied the mate, "that you should give the lads a few dollars of their pay, and allow them a run on shore to stretch their legs after having been cooped up so long in this little craft?"
Carew remembered the empty condition of the ship's treasury, and did not see his way to paying his crew any portion of their wages at present.
"If they go on shore they will drink rum in the sun, and catch Yellow Jack," he said.
"Not they, sir. These are sober Spaniards, and they are too acclimatised to run much risk of fever."
"I'll think the matter over. But we'll leave the two men in charge this afternoon. You come on shore with me, Baptiste. You know Rio, and can show me the way about."
So Carew and the mate got into the dinghy, and the latter, taking the oars, pulled off towards the Mole. They landed on a quay bordered by a negro market, where fish, fruit, rags, and all manner of odds and ends were sold by very fat negresses in huge yellow turbans; a filthy and malodorous spot. After leaving the dinghy in charge of a custom-house officer, they hustled their way through the jabbering crowd of blacks, and entered the chief streets of the city.
Baptiste, who evidently knew his way well, brought Carew to the door of the British Consulate. "I will leave you now, captain," he said, "to transact your business. Let me have a dollar or so to amuse myself with, and I will meet you in an hour's time at the corner of thechief street, the Rua Ovidor, in front of the big jeweller's shop."
Carew gave him a ten-shilling piece—he only had two more in the world now—and they separated.
Having obtained a bill of health from the consul, Carew strolled through the hot streets until the appointed time, when the mate, punctual to a minute, met him at the corner of the Rua Ovidor.
"Captain," said Baptiste, "it is stifling in these streets. Let us get on a tram and drive out of the town to the Botanical Gardens. It will be cooler there, and I wish to speak to you in a quiet place where there are no eavesdroppers about. I have made an important discovery since I left you."
With a noise of jingling bells the mules carried them rapidly through the suburbs of the city; past fairy-like villas that seemed to be built of delicately tinted porcelain, surrounded by gardens that were paradises of exquisite plants, with cool fountains splashing under the feathery palms; past groves of marvellous trees that bore no leaves, but were covered instead with blossoms of purple and vivid crimson, so that the eye was pained by the excess of glory; past pleasant inlets of the great bay, where the tiny waves dashed on the white sands under the cocoa-nut trees; and around them rose the great amphitheatre of granite peaks andforest-clad mountains glowing under the cloudless sky.
They reached the gate of the Botanical Gardens, and the mate led Carew to an avenue of oreodoxas—the most majestic of the family of palms. These rose straight and smooth as marble columns to an immense height, and far overhead their graceful leaves met in regular arches, forming a great aisle as of a cathedral of giants. A solemn spot, fitted to exalt the soul of man and inspire lofty thoughts, but which Baptiste, with an unconscious irony, had selected as a safe place to discuss with Carew a scheme of detestable crime which his lust for gold had suggested to him.
They sat down on a bench under the polished trunk of one of the huge palms. Carew was silent. He was impressed by the marvellous nature around. Everything was so unfamiliar to his senses. The rich colouring of the beautiful and sometimes grotesquely shaped vegetation, the birds of brilliant plumage that flashed by him, the metallic lustre and monstrous forms of the beetles and other insects, the shrieking of the paroquets, and other noises of the intense and teeming tropical life—all bewildered his brain. The very air, heavy with the pungent odours of many flowers, seemed intoxicating. He could scarcely realise that this was not all some fantastic dream.
But Baptiste, who had important business onhand, cared little for the wonders of Nature. He rolled himself a cigarette, lit it, then, sprawling himself in a lazy fashion on the bench, commenced—
"The other day, captain, we were engaged in an interesting conversation, which was rather rudely disturbed by an earthquake. Have you forgotten the subject of it?"
"I remember that you were talking some nonsense about making yachting pay its expenses by smuggling, or something of the sort."
"I said nothing about smuggling, captain, and I was not talking nonsense. I said that the master of a yacht sailing under Government papers has many opportunities of putting gold into his pockets; that is, if his liver be sound and he is not troubled with a morbid conscience. Now, I only left you for one hour, captain, and in that time I picked up all the news of the port by calling at one or two rum shops—old haunts of mine; and, as luck would have it, I have discovered an easy way for us all to make our fortunes."
"Silence, man!" angrily ejaculated Carew. "I don't wish to hear your rascally plans. You mistake me; I am not one to seek a fortune by illicit methods."
Carew meant all he said. He intended to commit one more crime only—to telegraph in Allen's name to the bank for the bulk of Allen'sproperty. After that, sick of sin, he would live an exemplary life, and appease conscience by good works in some far country. But he forgot that he who once starts to run down a steep hill cannot stop himself exactly when he wishes.
"What virtue—what righteous indignation!" sneered the mate. "But, captain, you will have to listen to me. Whether you wish it or no, youshallmake a fortune in the way I am going to suggest."
There was a menace in the man's tone and a malicious twinkle in his eyes.
Carew looked at him. "Explain yourself, if you please," he said coldly.
"So I will," cried Baptiste, with energy, abandoning his lazy drawl. Then, throwing away his cigarette, he rose from his recumbent position and stood before Carew, who still remained sitting on the bench.
"Do you think that I am blind—that I am an idiot, captain? Do you imagine that I don't know who you are and what you have done,—with all your virtuous talk,—eh, Mr. Carew?"
As he uttered these words rapidly the mate closely observed their effect upon the Englishman, whose face turned ghastly white, and whose right hand stole round to his back.
"No shooting, if you please," cried the Frenchman, in a bantering tone. "Don't draw that revolver. Remember that there's a fine forcarrying firearms in Rio. Coward though I may be, you don't frighten me here, captain. I know you dare not kill me on shore. The inquiry afterwards would be fatal to you. Besides, you are wise enough to grasp quickly the fact that our interests are coincident. At sea it was otherwise. There I held my tongue. I was aware that you would have thrown me overboard some dark night had you guessed that I knew so much. Here on shore I am safe."
Carew felt that he was in the man's power, and saw the futility of denial. "What do you know?" he asked, in a dry voice, bringing his hand in front of him again.
"That your name is not Allen, but Carew."
"What else?"
"That you are impersonating a man whose property you have stolen."
Carew felt as if his heart had stopped; the tall palms swam around him. He closed his eyes, and was only conscious of the cataract of sound raised by the shrieking paroquets and the manifold hum of insects. It was only for a moment; then he recovered himself, and, opening his eyes, again saw before him the cynical face of the Frenchman. "What else?" he asked, with a deep sigh.
"Surely that is enough, captain. But, in short, understand that I know all about you."
"How have you learnt this?"
"Suffice it that I know it. I don't wish to spoil your little game, captain, but you must help me in mine. I will now sit down and silently smoke a cigarette, so that you can ponder a while on what I have said. I perceive that I have somewhat disturbed your mind. Now, as violent emotions are very bad for the health in this hot climate, it will do you good to rest for a few minutes; for I have more exciting news to communicate."
The Frenchman resumed his former lazy position, and proceeded to smoke, as he smiled contentedly at his own reflections; while Carew sat with knit brows, the perspiration streaming down his face, unable to collect his thoughts, but terribly conscious in a vague way that he could never extricate himself from the network of crime into which he had voluntarily thrown himself; that for him there was no hope of putting the past away; that one sin would lead irrevocably to another; that Nemesis had made all his future life as one long chain of iniquity, even to the unknown dreadful end of it.
The Frenchman was very pleased with himself. He had succeeded beyond his expectations in gaining a hold over Carew, whom he could now compel to subserve his purposes. The mate had played a bold game of "bluff"; he had made Carew believe that he was acquainted with his history, whereas he knew nothing of it, possessed no proofs of whathe had so boldly asserted, and had merely made an ingenious guess at the truth.
At a very early stage of the voyage, Baptiste had come to the conclusion that the conscience of the Englishman was burdened with some crime, and that he was a fugitive from justice.
A variety of circumstances had led him to this belief. That Carew had shipped three men who were known to be murderers, and had sailed away with them across the ocean at a moment's notice, was in itself highly suspicious. So the wily Frenchman, bethinking himself how useful it often is to know another man's disagreeable secrets, set himself to discover all he could of his employer's past.
Many a night, when it was Carew's watch on deck, Baptiste employed himself in rummaging the drawers and lockers of the saloon. For a long time he discovered nothing to his purpose; but he was patient and minute in his investigations, and at last he got on the right scent in the following wise.
He found that the handwriting in the ship's log-book and on the agreements which the captain had drawn out for his crew was not in the least like that in the diary and in the cheque-book, in which entries had been inscribed at a date prior to the yacht's departure from Rotterdam. Thus it seemed highly probable to Baptiste that his captain was not the Mr. Allen whom heprofessed to be, and whose name was on the ship's papers.
If not Mr. Allen, then, who was he?
Baptiste searched diligently night after night without finding any clue to this; but at last one of those slight circumstances which seem to be arranged by Providence to expose the crimes of the most clever and cautious villains, led the persevering Frenchman to the knowledge he was seeking.
Baptiste was not a good English scholar; but he proceeded with infinite labour little by little to decipher Allen's diary. A few days before reaching Rio he came to the last page but one, and here he read the following entry: "Wrote Carew, asking him to come with me to Holland." On the next page, under the date of August the 8th, was the final entry: "Sail for Holland with Carew."
"It is just possible," said Baptiste to himself, "that this mysterious captain of mine is Mr. Carew. I have no reason to suppose that he is so, but the point is worth testing."
The mate applied the test in the manner that has been described, when, on entering Rio, he casually remarked that he had sailed into that harbour before under an English captain called Carew.
His employer's sudden start and evident perturbation on hearing this name mentioned convinced Baptiste that he had hit the right nail onthe head. The deduction from what he had discovered was natural enough. "If this is Carew," he reasoned, "he must have stolen Allen's yacht. He has in all probability committed other crimes; but this is enough for my purpose. I may be altogether wrong in my conjectures, but I think not. I will tax him boldly with this. If I have guessed his secret, I have the game in my own hands. If I prove to have been on the wrong scent, I shall have made an idiot of myself, but no great harm will have been done."
So with a matchless effrontery the Frenchman opened his game under the shade of the great palm trees with the success that has been seen.
Having smoked several cigarettes with an expression of great enjoyment, without speaking, Baptiste turned to Carew and said—
"You are looking pale,mon capitaine. It is dangerous to walk about on an empty stomach in this climate; the fever fiend is ever watching his opportunity. Come with me. I will take you to a tavern I know of,—rough, but cheap and good,—and we will have something to eat. It is hours after our usual dinner-time. Afterwards I will expound to you the excellent scheme that is in my head—a scheme that will make us all rich men."
Carew had by this time recovered his power for cool and rapid thought. He had been in vain cudgelling his brain to explain to himselfin what possible way the mate had contrived to discover his secret.
"Baptiste," he said firmly, "before moving from here, I wish you to clearly understand that you are not going to be my master because you happen to know something about my affairs; so put aside at once that insolent and familiar manner. If you presume too much on your knowledge and make me desperate, it will be the worse for you. Now tell me how have you acquired this knowledge?"
The mate replied in his old respectful tones. "I know you too well to seek to be your master. But I would rather not answer your question at present, captain. I promise you, when you have helped me to carry out my plan, that I will tell you everything."
"Does anyone else know as much as yourself concerning me?"
"Not a single individual. Have no fears on that score. No one suspects that you are other than you represent yourself to be. You are as secure from discovery as you were before I happened to learn the truth. I alone know what you are, and the price of my silence is a mere bagatelle. All I ask is that you benefit yourself and me by casting away from you some of your foolish scruples. Where is the logic of going so far and no farther? You have committed great crimes for a trifle. A large fortune is now within your grasp; butone little sin more, and you will be rich. Then you can afford to be virtuous for the rest of your life. You can endow churches; you can obtain absolution; you can—but I forget; you are a Protestant, and so must patch your soul up in your own way."
Carew shuddered, not in fear of the man before him, but at the thought of the relentless fate that was pursuing him. It seemed to him that this unscrupulous villain was the instrument of an offended Heaven, sent to hasten his destruction. It was vain for him to strive after repentance.
A wild despair, a feeling of angry revolt against the powers of good, possessed him. What did it matter now? the man argued, in his reckless mood. Destiny drove him to crime. Why resist in agony? Whatever new wickedness he should have to do, not his the fault, but that of this pitiless and unjust Fate.
"Baptiste, what is this plan that you propose?" he asked.
"Let us dine before we talk business," replied the mate, rolling himself another cigarette. "I am as thirsty as an Englishman and as hungry as a German."
They entered a tram and drove back towards the city; but while they were yet in the suburbs, Baptiste made a sign to Carew to descend, and they walked, the mate leading the way, down a narrow street of negro shanties, each surrounded by its little provision ground of bananas, yams,and cassava. Then they came to a very rough and disreputable neighbourhood, abounding in low grog shops, in which European sailors were courting Yellow Jack, by drinking poisonous rum. They reached a street which skirted the shores of the bay; and here, on the very edge of the water, there stood a stone house by itself.
"That is the tavern I spoke of," said the mate. Then assuming his usual bantering tone, "It is a queer place. It will interest you, as an English milord travelling for his pleasure and instruction, to observe the humours of the place. It is the resort of the greatest villains of Rio—robbers, smugglers, and the like. The result is that it is an exceedingly quiet and respectable house. They dare not have rows in there; no drunkenness or thieving or kniving is allowed on those premises. Men frequent this café when bent on business, not on pleasure."
The interior of the house did not seem to be used for purposes of entertainment, for all the customers were congregated in a large arbour that lay against one side of the building, and faced the sea.
They entered this arbour, and sat down at one of the bare deal tables, and the mate, calling one of the waiters, a very evil-looking mulatto with one eye, selected some of the dishes out of the bill of fare.
The sun was setting, and the darkness came on with the suddenness of tropical latitudes. Two negroes proceeded to light a number of Venetian lanterns that festooned the café, and Carew, while he waited for his dinner, gazed with amazement at the scene before him.
A number of men were sitting at the tables, eating, drinking, and smoking. There were negroes, whites, and mulattos. They appeared to be of many nationalities. It would be almost impossible to see elsewhere a collection of more villainous faces. They sat for the most part in silence, as if avoiding each other's companionship; but at some of the tables were small groups, and here conversations were carried on in a low voice. There were no smiles to be seen; there was no noise; there were no signs of hilarity in all this assemblage. An atmosphere of gloom and fear seemed to pervade the place. Occasionally one of these taciturn beings would glance suspiciously at the table where Carew and the mate were sitting. Guilt, dread, and hopelessness could be read on many a face. It might have been a supper of lost souls in the shades of Hades, but then—and it was this that, by its mocking contrast, lent a strange horror to the scene, as if it were some fantastic and dreadful nightmare—the melancholy feast was taking place in a very paradise.
The arbour was supported by lofty palms, and the sides of it were formed of a network ofthe most beautiful creepers, heavy with sweet blossoms and luscious fruits. The glittering sands of the seashore formed the floor. Through the roof of feathery palm leaves the innumerable and brilliant stars of the Southern Hemisphere could be seen glowing out of the depths of night. A number of small tame birds of lovely red and yellow plumage fluttered about the arbour, and alighted on the tables in search of food. Glow-worms and fireflies gleamed like diamonds among the foliage, and outside was heard the splashing of the tiny waves and the shrill cry of the cicala. The lavish tropical nature had made of this a fit palace for a fairy queen, and lo, it was a thieves' kitchen!
Having dined off some very greasy dishes served up with cassava or lentils, and seasoned with hot peppers in the Brazilian fashion, Carew and the mate lit their pipes, and the one-eyed negro brought them cups of black coffee and glasses of white native rum. The table at which they sat was at some distance from any other, so all risk of their conversation being overheard was obviated.
"All these men are thieves, you say?" said Carew, looking round at the strange assembly, on whose faces the Venetian lanterns cast a ruddy glow.
"Yes, thieves and murderers, all of them," replied the mate, "but well-behaved, quiet folk, as you see. One is safer here than in some of the flash cafés in the main streets of Rio."
"They carry their characters on their faces. I only see one in the whole crowd whom I would not instinctively distrust. Who is that tall, handsome old man with the long white hair and beard?"
"That is our worthy host," said Baptiste. "He looks like a mild, mediæval saint, but there is much blood on his hands. I must introduce him to you, for he is a celebrated character in his way."
Baptiste caught the old man's eye, and beckoned to him to approach the table.
"Good-evening to you, Father Luigi. I think you understand French?"
The old man nodded an assent.
"I don't suppose you remember me? I have not been here for a very long time."
"I never forget a face that I have seen in my café," replied the host in French, with a strong Italian accent.
"This, Luigi, is my present captain, an English milord, travelling in his yacht; and this, captain, is the once well-known Roman brigand, Luigi Querini. Oh, an awful cut-throat in his time, I assure you."
Querini shook his head sadly. "But not so now, signor. I am getting old. Heigh-ho, but those were grand days we had in the Abruzzi Mountains before Victor Emmanuel's gendarmerie spoilt Italy."
"Sit down and have a glass with us, Luigi," said the mate. "Salud y pesetas—health and dollars to you; that's an old River Plate toast. Luigi knows Buenos Ayres well, captain. He'll tell us all about it."
"Yes, I know it too well," said the old man."I was a soldier of the Argentine Republic, and lived on mare's flesh on the Indian frontier for four years."
"What made you do that?" asked Carew.
"I see you are a stranger to South America, sir. Understand, I was not a volunteer. I had a misfortune, and therefore was pressed into the army for punishment."
"To have a misfortune is a Pampas euphemism for having murdered a man," explained the mate.
"There is, as you know, no capital punishment in the River Plate," continued the Italian; "if a man kills another the penalty is so many years' service in the army."
"What a respectable army it must be," remarked Carew.
"It is so," said Baptiste. "They are wise people, those Argentines. If a man is addicted to homicide for his private ends, they turn him into a wholesale homicide for the public good. That may be called the homœopathic treatment of murder; like curing like."
Carew laughed boisterously at the mate's witticism, and the silent men at the tables round, hating the sound of merriment, turned their faces towards him and scowled savagely.
A species of intoxication had come to Carew. The strange sights and strong emotions of the day, the grotesque contrast presented by thislovely bower of pure blossoms and the foul and evil men who sat beneath it, confused his brain. His surroundings seemed so fantastically inconsistent—so unreal—that he felt as if he were some irresponsible being in a land of dreams, that it mattered not what he did. He was filled with a reckless joviality.
The mate had been watching him with his keen eyes. He knew what this exaltation of spirits indicated, and divined that the moment was opportune for the mooting of his diabolical scheme. In the present condition of his mental faculties, the captain's obstructive conscience would be partly paralysed, and he would be able to listen to the mate's proposals without overmuch shrinking horror. So the shrewd Frenchman, losing no more time, hinted to the host that his presence at the table was no longer needed, and Querini took himself off to hobnob with another acquaintance.
Baptiste then stretched out his legs and said—
"This is very comfortable after having been cramped up so long on board that little boat of yours; but I hope, sir, to see you captain of a much larger vessel in a week or so at the latest."
"So we are coming to your wonderful scheme. Let me hear all about it."
"You remember, sir, that as we sailed into the bay this morning I pointed out a smallbarque to El Toro, and remarked how much she resembled the oldVrouw Elisa."
"I remember your words perfectly. You betrayed yourself."
"Intentionally, captain. We understand each other now; there are no secrets between us. Away with hypocrisy! Of course El Toro, El Chico, and myself formed part of the crew of theVrouw Elisa. But it is unnecessary to recount to you our adventures on board that vessel."
"They do not interest me."
"I don't think you'd care to hear them," said Baptiste, showing his white teeth with a grim smile. "Well, to proceed. When you were at the consul's this morning, I entered a little drinking shop on the Mole, and there I overheard some sailors speaking about their vessel, which I soon made out to be the barque lying near us under Villegagnon, the one like theVrouw Elisa. Said one man to the other in French—
"'I suppose she's got the most valuable cargo on board of any vessel in Rio.'
"I pricked up my ears on hearing this.
"'She'd be a fine prize for a pirate,' replied the other man.
"'If there were pirates nowadays,' said the first.
"Feeling interested, I made inquiries about this vessel—Waiter, stand off another fewyards. I am talking over some private business with this gentleman."
The negro, not unused to such commands, promptly removed himself.
"I discovered that the barque comes from a little harbour down the coast, near Santa Catharina. It seems that some prospectors have discovered gold in the neighbouring mountains. The quartz is exceptionally rich; the cost of importing the necessary machinery would be great. They are consequently shipping a large quantity of this quarts to Europe to be crushed. That barque, sailing under the French flag, is bound for Swansea with a cargo of this: no ordinary auriferous quartz, let me tell you, but containing a hitherto unexampled percentage of gold. She has put in here for some slight repairs, and will sail in two days. The barque is a new vessel, and is worth a lot of money; but the value of the cargo is enormous. Now, my little plan is that we four, the crew of thePetrel, seize this vessel and make our fortunes."
Carew laughed scornfully. "Idiot!" he said; "is this your precious scheme? I took you for too clever a man to talk such nonsense. Even if we did succeed in seizing this vessel, what could we do with her? In what port could we dispose of her cargo? Piracy is impossible in these days. Don't you know that?"
"Who talked of piracy? Surely, captain,you know me by this time. Am I not a coward? Am I one to commit a risky crime? I would break no law unless I felt that I was absolutely secure from detection; and when I do feel that, upon my soul, I don't know what villainy I would shrink from; for, as for conscience—bah! I have none. Now please follow the outlines of my scheme. I will leave it to your ingenuity to fill up the details."
Carew, in his present mood, felt a reluctant admiration for the cool and cynical ruffian before him.
"Piracy, in the ordinary sense of the term, is of course out of date," continued the mate, as he sipped his fiery rum; "but the intelligent man adapts his method to the age he lives in. I will now tell you a little story. An English yacht, manned by four worthy fellows, sails out of Rio one fine day. In the night, when she is some leagues from the land, a dreadful accident of some kind happens—say she runs into a large fragment of wreckage, and staves herself in. Anyhow, she founders. Happily, her crew have time to lower the boat, and getting into it they pull away, weeping to behold the vessel, that has been their home for so long, go down. But they feel happier and dry their eyes when their brave captain tells them that the yacht is well insured. Providence assists them, for at daybreak they sight a French barque. They signal to her,are seen, are soon taken on board, and the barque resumes her voyage to Europe. After some days our four shipwrecked mariners, who have been watching their opportunity, and who are well armed, surprise the crew, take possession of the vessel, sail her into the nearest port, and claim salvage for the derelict which they have had the luck to pick up; and their lives for the future are happy, wealthy, and respectable. Do you follow my story, captain? Hi! waiter, bring us some more rum and some Bahia cigars."
Carew sat quite motionless for some time, looking downwards, so that Baptiste could not see the expression of his face. The black brought the rum to the table and went away again. Then Carew raised his head. "I follow your story," he said, in a low, husky voice; "but you did not mention what became of the crew of the barque."
"Ah, yes! What did become of them?" exclaimed the mate in an airy way. "I forget. They were lost somehow, I imagine—were disposed of in some convenient fashion—who knows? But that is a detail."
Carew's face had turned fearfully white. "Thou devil!" he cried passionately, between his set teeth. "Not that—not that! Speak no more of this. It is impossible."
"Understand me, captain," said the mate, abandoning his bantering tone for one ofserious determination. "You are not going to have everything your own way. I must have money, and plenty of it. El Chico and El Toro must have money. Join us in carrying out this scheme, and we will share the spoil between the four of us. If you don't agree to this, I will expose you at once, Mr. Carew, and you will know what a nasty hole a Brazilian prison is. I am sorry to use this language, but business is business, captain."
Carew looked down again, and Baptiste, furtively watching him, saw that his mouth was twitching and the perspiration breaking out on his forehead.
The wretched man endeavoured to think his way out of the terrible dilemma before him. He had to choose between the commission of a crime more atrocious than any he had ever conceived, and a disgrace and punishment infinitely worse than death. He tried to realise his position, but his brain seemed numbed. The two alternatives kept crossing and recrossing his mind in rapid succession. He was conscious of them, but he could not reason upon them. He was incapable of consecutive thought for the time.
Suddenly a discordant brass band in a low dancing saloon hard by burst out into a triumphant march, as a prelude to the night's riot of drunken sailors. It was a fragment of some French opera-bouffe, suggestive offeverish joy heedless of the morrow, of mad and reckless orgie. The sound was in accord with the man's distracted state. It at once awoke his mind from its lethargy. A wild and fierce impulse rushed upon him. Blindly he abandoned himself to what he considered to be his destiny, and a tempter seemed to whisper to him, "Trust to your luck. See how luck has been with you so far. Fortune will certainly find some way of relieving you of the crew of the barque, so that it will not be necessary for you to have their blood on your head. Arthur Allen stood in your path. He was removed from it; yet you were not his murderer. So will it be now. Trust to chance."
Then Carew looked up. His features were calm and rigid, but had a ghastly expression. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but appeared to be unable to articulate. He poured himself out a quantity of the white rum into a glass and swallowed it. "And the other two men?" he whispered hoarsely.
Baptiste understood his meaning. "El Chico and El Toro can be relied upon for this business. I know them," he said.
The eyes of the two men met. There was a long pause. Then Carew muttered the two words—
"I consent!"
Carew and the mate left the café, traversed the brilliantly lighted city, and returned to the yacht. At an early hour on the following morning, Carew, too restless to sleep, came on deck. The sky was cloudless and the rising sun illumined the romantic scenery of the bay. A cool breeze blew seaward from the wooded mountains, odorous of spices and tropical blossoms. The sight of a world so glad and fair, so fresh and ever-young, might well make the saddest soul feel the joy of mere existence and look to life as a treasure worth the possessing.
A few months before this Carew had contemplated suicide—had regarded death as a welcome deliverance from his troubles. Now it was otherwise; he set a value on his life. The causes of this change were commonplace enough, as are most of the motives that decide the momentous crises of a man's history. A healthy life in the open air at sea tends to develop the instinct of self-preservation and banishes morbid meditations. Again, thelonger one has been contesting some keen game of chance and skill, the more anxious one is to come off the victor. This man had been playing a clever and desperate game for freedom—which for him meant life—ever since he had left England. Fortune had favoured him so long that he would not abandon hope and acknowledge defeat now. The ultimate victory had become so dear to him that he was not likely to be very squeamish as to the means he should employ to obtain it.
So Carew had hardened his heart, or rather, having resolved on a course of action, he closed the avenues of his mind to certain unpleasant thoughts on the future. Not being as unscrupulous as his French associate, he found it necessary to employ an immense amount of self-deception. He allowed himself to drift, as it were, from one crime to another, trying to believe that his fate was compelling him; but he carefully avoided looking beyond the immediate present. He would not think of the far greater iniquities to which he was committing himself by the action he was now taking. He wilfully closed his eyes, and let the morrow take care of itself.
When Baptiste joined the captain on deck he was exceedingly surprised to find him in a cheerful mood, and anxious to arrange as quickly as possible the plan for the seizure of the barque. Carew found a relief in the activeemployment of his brain, and he now exhibited considerable ingenuity. He described his views in detail to the mate, who looked with wonder at this inconsistent Englishman, whose complex nature he felt that he was very far from understanding. With all his vacillation, when Carew had made up his mind one way or the other, he acted promptly and with energy.
"Baptiste," he said, "in the first place, we ought to be armed. We all have knives, but there is only one revolver on board. I want you to take my watch and chain on shore, pawn or sell them, and buy three revolvers and some ammunition. You can take charge of your weapon at once, but I will keep those of the two men until the time comes."
"That is right," said the mate; "those children are not to be trusted with firearms. The first time they played atmontethey would be scattering each other's brains over the cards. I know a slop shop where there are generally some good six-shooters on sale. I will barter your watch there."
"Also ascertain the hour of the barque's departure," said Carew. "This is what I suggest. You know that the south-east trade wind does not blow home on this coast, but is deflected and becomes a north-east wind. In consequence of this, all vessels bound for Europe from Rio are obliged to take a long board of several hundreds of miles to theeastward before they fall in with the true trade wind, and go about on the other tack. Thus we know the exact course the barque will take. She will sail away close-hauled on the port-tack. We will put to sea six hours before her, and await her some ten leagues from the land. Do you understand?"
"Perfectly. I see you know what you are about, sir."
"Now call the crew aft," said Carew, "and let us learn at once what they think of our proposal."
Baptiste raised the hatch of the forecastle and roused the men. They quickly tumbled on deck.
"I am sorry to say, comrades, that you can't go on shore here," said the mate in Spanish.
They swore and grumbled in sonorous Castilian phrases that had best be left untranslated.
"Now no insubordination," continued Baptiste; "the captain would not deprive you of a day's holiday after so long a voyage unless he had urgent reasons for doing so."
"Reasons indeed!" muttered El Toro. "He who wants reasons can always find them."
"Silence, you old calf! Listen! We shall most probably sail to-day, for there is a treasure waiting for us outside."
El Chico pricked up his ears. "What! anotherVrouw Elisa?" he asked.
"Something of the sort; but this is a saferscheme. Our necks will not be in danger this time."
"That's well for you, Baptiste," exclaimed El Toro, with his brutal laugh; "for your neck must be the most precious on this ship if we may judge from the value you set on it. Ha! ha! I never shall forget your white face and your starting eyes in that Dutch law court."
"My neck supports a head of brains and not a pig's head like thine, with only three ideas in it—rum, grub, and tobacco," retorted the mate. "But no more nonsense; listen to me, men."
Then he briefly disclosed the plan.
"Bravo!" grunted El Toro. "That sounds a likely bit of business. I will go and sharpen my knife at once. And so our English milord is a game-cock, after all, like the rest of us."
"He is worth fifty of you," said Baptiste. "He has the clever brains that can devise; and he is braver than you, El Toro."
"I acknowledge him to be my superior, even in courage. I have not forgotten how he defied the devil himself in theterremoto," replied the Basque.
Baptiste turned to Carew, and proceeded to speak in French. "The lads are ready to follow you anywhere, sir."
"They did not seem at all surprised, and received your communication in a very matter-of-fact way," said Carew.
"They are accustomed to strange jobs of this kind. But I don't think they quite realise what a vast sum we are going to make. Idiots! It would be a pity to give them too much. We must settle later on, captain, how to divide the spoil."
"Last night you said that it should be divided equally among us."
"I spoke hastily. I don't think so now. You and I appreciate money and know how to use it. These pigs would squander it. We will give them just enough to keep their mouths shut. You and I will divide the bulk. If we fill their hands with bright gold pieces, the ignorant wretches will imagine that they have got an inexhaustible fortune, and they will go away perfectly satisfied. I know the animals."
The mate, taking Carew's watch and chain with him, rowed on shore in the dinghy, and returned in an hour with three revolvers, some cartridges, and a quantity of plantains, yams, and other vegetables.
He leapt on deck. "Captain," he cried, "there is not much time to be lost. I have learnt thatLa Bonne Esperance—that is the barque's name—will sail without fail this evening as soon as the land breeze springs up."
"Then we will get under way immediately after breakfast," said Carew; "for the wind seems to be light outside, and we shall not travel fast."
The land breeze, which blows all night at Rio and refreshes the heated atmosphere, died away before the necessary preparations had been made on the yacht, and the usual calm succeeded it. So Carew had to remain at anchor until midday, when the sea breeze, that prevails throughout the hottest hours of the day, sprang up; and all sail being hoisted, thePetreltacked out of the bay.
The yacht sailed out to sea, close-hauled on the port-tack; but the wind was very light, and she did not make more than two knots an hour.
At sunset the land was still in sight, and Carew took cross-bearings, so as to ascertain his exact position. Throughout the night the navigation of the yacht was conducted with unusual care. The helmsman steered "full and by" with as much nicety as if he had been sailing a race.
Every few minutes the officer of the watch looked at the compass, in order to detect the slightest change in the direction of the wind. Without these precautions it would have been impossible on the morrow to calculate with sufficient precision the track of the following barque.
At daybreak Carew made out that he was about forty miles from the land. "We have gone far enough, Baptiste," he said. "The next thing is to calculate how much nearer thisyacht sails to the wind than a clumsy, square-rigged vessel likeLa Bonne Esperance."
"Our steering has been so good," replied the mate, "that we must have been sailing at least a point and a half closer than the barque."
"About that, I should say. We will run down to leeward some ten miles, and then, I think, we shall be lying right across her track."
The sheets were eased off, and the vessel was steered at right angles to her former course. As the wind was stronger, she covered the ten miles in less than two hours. Then Carew gave the order to heave-to.
While the yacht, her jib to windward, rose and fell on the ocean swell without making any progress, everything was got ready for the carrying out of their design. The dinghy was lowered; the men placed in it their baggage and some of the more portable valuables belonging to the yacht. Carew put into the sternsheets a portmanteau containing, among other things, the ship's papers, Allen's diary and cheque-book, the revolvers, and the drugs which he had purchased in Rotterdam.
Carew himself undertook to scuttle the yacht. He cut away a portion of the panelling in the main cabin; then, having bored a large hole with an auger through the vessel's skin, he stopped it with a wooden plug. To this plug he attached a piece of strong cord, which he led up on deck through the skylight.
The men stood by watching him.
"You see, Baptiste," he explained, "I have but to pull this cord, out comes the plug, and the vessel fills and sinks."
"That is all very well so far," replied the mate; "but suppose you have pulled out your plug, and your vessel is three parts full, and the barque won't stop to pick us up,—anything is possible at sea; such inhumanity among sailors is not unknown,—what will you do then? How are you to get at that hole again to stop any more water coming in? A wise general secures his retreat, captain."
"I have thought of all that, Baptiste," said Carew; "you have not seen half my arrangements yet. Follow me into the after-cabin."
Baptiste obeyed.
"Now take up the flooring," continued the captain.
When the boards were raised a long piece of lead piping was disclosed, which was connected with the end of one of the ship's two pumps.
"Cut that piping off as close as you can to the pump, and bring it on deck."
This was done; then Carew, to the astonishment of his crew, proceeded to bend the piping until it assumed the form of a lengthened U. Putting a bung into one end of it he poured water into it from the other end until it was full. Dipping the open end into the sea, he passed the other arm through one of theports, so that it depended into the cabin below the level of the water-line.
"Hah! I see now; it is a syphon," exclaimed Baptiste.
"Exactly so. Now follow my plan. As soon as we sight the barque, I take the bung out of the inner arm of the syphon and allow the sea to pour in, until I bring the yacht down as near the water's edge as I safely can. Then I haul my syphon on board again and so stop the flow. We hoist signals of distress. IfLa Bonne Esperancewon't pay any attention to us and sails by, all we have to do is to pump the water out of the yacht, and try our luck elsewhere. If the barque replies to our signals, and there can be no doubt about her intention to pick us up, I pull this cord, out comes the plug, in rushes the sea again, we jump into the dinghy, and as we are rowing off to the French vessel the oldPetrelgoes down. What do you think of that, Baptiste?"
"Excellent—excellent!" exclaimed the mate.
"And to avoid all chance of a hitch," continued Carew, who was interested in his work, "I am going to scuttle the yacht in another place, and lead another cord from the second plug on to the deck. Thus we will be doubly certain; for one plug may get jammed and refuse to come out, or a fish may get sucked into the hole and choke it. I have heard of such things happening."
"You are a very clever man, captain. When you do start on a job you carry it out in a thorough manner. With your pluck and ingenuity you'd make a splendid pirate, were it not for your unfortunate scruples;" and the mate sighed regretfully when he thought of the useful talents wasted on this Englishman.
At midday Carew took the latitude, and found that he had not misjudged his position. As the wind had not varied a quarter of a point since the yacht had sailed from Rio, it was almost certain that the barque would pass within a mile or so.
El Chico, who had the keenest eyes of any on board, had been sent aloft to keep a good lookout for vessels. He sat on the crosstrees, and in the course of the day reported several craft, but none answered to the description of the French barque.
Much as Carew had shrunk from the enterprise, he was now carried away by the excitement of the chase; and as the hours went by he became acutely anxious. He feared that he had sailed too far out to sea, and that the barque would pass him unobserved in the night.
They waited in silence, staring eagerly across the expanse of glaring water.
At last, at three o'clock in the afternoon, El Chico called out—
"There is a barque yonder that looks something like her."
"Where away?" said Baptiste.
"She's coming up close-hauled on the port-tack."
"Has she brown topsides and some bright green about her figure-head?"
"I can't make any colour out yet."
Then the mate went aloft with the binocular. After some minutes he scrambled down the rigging again. "Hurrah!" he cried, with a triumphant glitter in his eyes. "We have her safe! That isLa Belle Esperance!"
"If we run a mile more to leeward we'll be right in her track," shouted El Chico from aloft.
All was now bustle on board the yacht. Letting the foresheet draw, they ran before the wind for about a quarter of an hour; then, heaving-to again, the cork was taken out of the syphon, and the yacht began to fill gradually. The barque was still more than three miles off, so there was ample time to prepare everything.
"Now for the signals of distress," cried Carew; "bring up the flags."
The two flags of the international code—N and B—were hoisted to the gaff end, which indicate that a vessel is in need of assistance.
"They won't be able to see that for some time yet," said Baptiste. "Your signal flags are too small."
"Then rig up the long-distance signal," cried Carew. "It is a square flag at the masthead with something like a ball beneath it. Hoist thelarge ensign, and fasten the life-buoy to the mast; that will look like a ball."
The barque was now heading straight for the yacht. When she was about a mile off Carew loaded the small brass signal gun and fired it.
About a minute afterwards a wreath of smoke was seen to issue from the barque's side. Then the report of a gun was heard.
"We are safe now. They will pick us up," said Carew. "Hallo, there! Inboard with that syphon at once, or the yacht will go down under our feet."
The men had been watching the approaching barque so intently that they had not observed how low in the water their own vessel now was. The cabin was three parts full, and all the movable articles in it were afloat. The syphon was brought on board, and they waited yet a little longer before taking the final step; for the wind had fallen light again, and the barque was making but slow progress towards them.
"Up goes some bunting yonder," said El Chico.
Carew looked through the telescope, and saw that the vessel had hoisted the signal H F, which signifies, "We are coming to your assistance."
"Now, then, all hands tumble into the dinghy," said Carew, as, seizing the cords, he pulled both plugs out of the yacht's side. "Good-bye, oldPetrel!" he cried, leaping into the boat after his men. "Now, pull away, lads."
Carew's experience in scuttling vessels was naturally limited, so he had miscalculated the rapidity with which an already water-logged craft will go down if two large auger-holes are opened in her sides.
The men had not pulled a couple of strokes before the yacht's bow rose suddenly, her stern dipped, and she sank with a gurgling sound. So near was the dinghy that she narrowly escaped being sucked into the vortex.
They rested on their oars and gazed silently at the spot where the smart little yawl that had been their home for so long had floated but a moment before. Then, as the water smoothed over her grave, they looked over the side of the dinghy and beheld a strange sight. With all her white sails set and her flags still flying, thePetrelwent slowly down, with a gentle, oscillating movement, into the depths of that marvellously pellucid sea. Two sharks accompanied her, swimming round and round her; one thrust his evil snout for a moment into the cabin hatchway, as if to see if there were men below. Lower and lower the yacht descended into depths where the sharks could not support the increasing pressure of the water, so, deserting her, swam upwards; still lower, till she appeared no larger than a toy boat, and they could still distinguish her; still lower, and at last she disappeared into the blackness of the still, under ocean.
Carew gazed silently downwards into the clear, dark sea for some moments after the yacht had sunk entirely out of sight; then, raising his head, he looked towards the barque, and saw that she was lying hove-to, with her mainyard laid aback, about a quarter of a mile distant.
"Pull away, lads," he said. "Let us get on board the Frenchman, and don't forget that we ran into a bit of wreckage last night and so sprang a leak. Say as little more as you can help, and don't give conflicting accounts of our accident."
They soon came alongside the vessel, and clambered on to her deck by a rope's end that was lowered to them. The captain of the barque gave the order to sling the dinghy on deck and square away again.
This being done, he turned to Carew and said in French, "I am very happy, sir, that I was so near at hand when your vessel sank. She went down very suddenly. Pray what was the cause?"
Carew gave the very probable explanation of the mishap which had been decided on.
"You must have run into that bit of wreckage with considerable force," said the captain. "What was it—a large spar?"
"Something of the sort, I imagine," replied Carew; "but we could see nothing. It must have been floating just below the level of the water."
"It is a lucky thing for you that this happened so near to the Brazilian coast and in the track of shipping, instead of in the middle of the Atlantic. You should have under-girded the vessel when you found that she had sprung so serious a leak."
"So we did," broke in Baptiste. "We got a jib under her bows. But it was no good. She was strained along her whole bilge. I wonder she did not fall to pieces."
"Let me introduce myself to you," said Carew. "My name is Allen. I was the owner of the unfortunate little yacht which is now so far below us. I think I recognise your vessel. Were you not lying near us under Villegagnon?"
"That is quite right, sir, and I recognised your yacht as soon as I saw your signal of distress. My name is Captain Mourez, and this is the French barqueLa Bonne Esperance, bound for Swansea. And now, sir, what would you like me to do with you and your crew? I see smoke ahead, which should come from some steamer bound for Rio. Shall I signal her andput you on board, or do you feel inclined to come on with us to Swansea?"
Carew did not look in the captain's face, and his voice shook as he replied, "I should esteem it a great favour, Captain Mourez, if you would allow us to be your passengers as far as Swansea. I will of course repay you for this when we reach England."
"Say nothing about that at present," replied the captain proudly. "You can do what you think proper when you reach port. A French sailor is always glad to assist other sailors in distress without the inducement of a reward for doing so."
The boastful speech of the patriotic captain stated no more than the truth. French sailors rarely hesitate to risk their lives at sea in going to the rescue of their fellow-men; in this respect differing considerably from the mariners of some other European nations, who have acquired an unenviable notoriety for a selfish indifference to the sufferings of others.
The captain looked from Carew to Baptiste. He could distinguish from the latter's accent and appearance that he was no common sailor. "This gentleman is your friend, I suppose?" he said.
"My friend, and the mate of the yacht," replied Carew. "I was my own captain."
"I see that you are a genuine English yachtsman. But surely this is a French gentleman?"
"No, Captain Mourez," broke in Baptiste quickly; "I am an English subject, but I am a Creole of the Mauritius, and of French origin. Permit me to introduce myself. My name is Baptiste Fortier."
"Very well," said the captain. "We can find room for your two men in the forecastle. You, Mr. Allen and Mr. Fortier, will occupy cabins aft. We have plenty to spare. Come below and I will show you round."
They entered the saloon—a spacious one for a vessel of her size. There were four cabins on each side of it. Only two of these were occupied; one by the captain and another by his mate. Two others were now placed at the disposal of Carew and Baptiste.
The captain made his two guests sit down with him at the saloon table, and produced a bottle of Bordeaux for their refreshment. The mate ofLa Belle Esperancesoon came below and joined the party. Though no drunkard, he was never far away when there was a drawing of corks. His name was Duval; he was a wiry, red-headed Norman, somewhat hot-tempered, but very garrulous and merry. Captain Mourez was a tall, handsome man, with black hair and beard, a Breton by birth, taciturn as a rule, but very courteous in his manners.
While these four were sitting in the saloon talking over the wreck of thePetrel, there was suddenly heard the sound of something fallingheavily on the deck just overhead; then a cry and a scuffling of many feet.
Duval hurried on deck to learn what the noise signified. Shortly afterwards he returned again. "It is that imbecile young apprentice, Hallé, again. What an awkward cub it is! He has fallen from the mizzen rigging this time; not from a great height, luckily. He has not hurt himself seriously, but he seems rather sick and dizzy."
The crew of thePetrelwere soon at home on their new vessel. El Toro and El Chico were made much of by the kindly Frenchmen in the forecastle. As luck would have it, none of the crew of the barque understood Spanish; so the two Spaniards, who knew no French, had not to reply to questions as to the details of the yacht's misadventure. El Toro especially, whose dense head was entirely devoid of imagination, would have been certain to come to grief in attempting to lie in an ingenious and consistent manner.
In the afternoon the loquacious Norman mate insisted on taking Carew and Baptiste all over the vessel and showing them everything. He was gratified by the keen interest the two passengers seemed to take in his explanation. They listened attentively to all he said, for reasons of their own. They learnt that the vessel's company, officers included, numbered seventeen souls; that there was no secondmate, but that the boatswain took the port watch and lived with the carpenter in the small deck-house.
Duval also took them into the forecastle, where some of the watch off duty were sleeping at the time. Among them was the young apprentice who had fallen from the rigging. He was tossing about restlessly in his bunk, and his face was very flushed.
Baptiste as he passed by glanced casually at him, then scanned his face earnestly for some time. "Come out of this," he said to Carew. "It is too hot down here. Let us go on deck."
That evening the wind freshened considerably, and the barque, with yards braced up, was making good way through the water. Carew, unable to sleep, came on deck shortly before midnight, and sat down in a dark, quiet corner to meditate. Now that the excitement of the preliminary preparations was over, he began to realise to the full what was before him; and an intense abhorrence of the crime he had undertaken once more oppressed his soul. He could not retreat now. He must be the cause of the death of all these innocent men, who had come to the rescue of his life. If he spared them he would be carried on to England to pay the penalty of his offences.
As he sat brooding thus miserably, a man walked towards him from the fore part of the ship. Carew saw the red glow of his cigarettebefore he could distinguish the man in the darkness, and he knew that it was his evil genius.
"Baptiste, is that you?"
"Here I am, captain. A lovely night, is it not?"
"Sit down here," said Carew, "and speak to me. No one can overhear us here, I think."
"No; it will be all right if we do not raise our voices," replied Baptiste, looking round.
"How is this going to end?" whispered Carew.
"What do you mean, captain?"
"How are we four to seize a vessel with a crew of seventeen strong men on board?"
"Strong men, indeed!" replied the Frenchman. "They will be as weak as babies in a few days' time. By the way, I see that you did not omit to bring your medicine chest on board with you."
Carew shuddered. "Poison!" he whispered, in a terrified voice. "Do you mean that?"
"Why not, captain? It is a merciful and painless death if the right stuff is used."
Carew said nothing for some time. "Whatever is done must be done soon," he muttered.
"That is so, captain. This vessel must be ours while we are still in the trades and within a few days' run of a South American port. It will be difficult enough for four of us to work her, even in these calm waters. We must notpostpone action till we get into the region of rougher weather."
"Oh, that this dreadful thing were not necessary!" Carew groaned.
"Ah, sir, don't allow those fatal scruples of yours to torment you. If I had some of your courage, and you some of my philosophy, what a fine couple we should be! But as it is at present, I am the more useful man of the two, despite my physical cowardice. Believe me, Mr. Carew, the ancient was right who said that to know oneself is the secret of happiness. If a man has a conscience at all, it ought to be a stable one that does not vary. You have got a set of moral principles of a sort, but you have not the slightest idea of what they are. One day you will commit an action with a light heart; on the morrow your remorse will madden you. Such inconsistency means misery. Know thyself. If you will have a code of ethics, know it and stick to it, and be happy. But now that you have gone so far, I recommend you to abjure conscience and moral principles, and substitute for them my beautifully simple code of ethics, which is summed up in three words—fear of consequences."
"I wish, indeed, that I could do so, Baptiste."
"If you wish it, this satisfactory result will come in time. All changes in the moral sense are arrived at by wishing.Experto crede, as they taught me in thelycéeat Nimes."
Neither spoke for some time; then Baptiste said—
"You were born under a lucky star, captain. I think that Providence has found a way of sparing your sensitive conscience. She will do most of the killing for you."
"What do you mean?" exclaimed Carew.
"Hush! not so loud. You remember that a young man fell from the mizzen rigging while we were below drinking with the captain?"
"Yes."
"He is our unconscious ally. He will kill off a good many of his comrades for us. But I will not mystify you any longer. Why did he fall off the rigging—because he was awkward, as Duval said? Not a bit of it. He fell because he was dizzy. Why was he dizzy? Because he was ill. This afternoon, when I saw him first, I more than suspected that a fall could not account for all his symptoms. I have just examined him again. I know the signs well. He is in the first stage ofyellow fever!"
"Yellow fever?"
"Yes, yellow fever has come to help us. The man has been very sick and is now delirious. The stupid captain has seen him, and puts it all down to his fall; says he must have injured his spine. How lucky for us was that fall! Led off the scent by it, the idiots will not suspect what is the matter with the man until thevomito negrodeclares itself. Theyhave not separated him from the rest. He is now lying in his bunk in the forecastle. All the watch below are sleeping round him. It is a small forecastle, and the crew, imagining that fresh air is bad for a sick man, have closed the ports. It is stifling down there at present. It is a pest-house. All those men are breathing in contagion. Do you know that it is the worst form of yellow fever that is now raging at Rio—very contagious, very fatal? If it breaks out in a vessel like this it will spread like wildfire. Man after man will fall sick and die."
"Ourselves included," said Carew recklessly.
"No, sir. We will take precautions in time. I have had the fever once, and am not likely to have it again. I have hinted the truth to El Chico and El Toro, and they have suddenly developed a hygienic craze for fresh air, and insist on sleeping on deck to-night, to the amazement of the French sailors. I would not like to insure the lives of the men who sleep in that forecastle; most of them are doomed by this time."
Carew felt his skin turn cold and tingle with horror as he listened to the Frenchman's cold-blooded exultation in the dreadful prospect.
"Good-night, captain. I am going to turn in now; and, by the way, let me advise you to keep on deck in the cool wind as much as possible, and smoke perpetually. Tobacco is a splendid disinfectant."