When Baptiste came aft to relieve Duval, as officer of the watch, the latter said, "Do you know if Mr. Allen is in his cabin, Fortier? I wish to see him."
"I think it would be better not to disturb him. He is quite worn out from want of sleep. He has sat up with poor Mourez two nights in succession; and now that the captain is dead, and the other two sick men are getting better, he is having a long sleep."
"Are the other men getting better?"
"So Mr. Allen thinks," replied Baptiste. "With our brave captain's death the fever seems to have expended itself. We have no fresh cases to-day."
"I am not sure of that," said Duval gloomily. "I wished to see Mr. Allen in order to tell him that I, and no less than three of the other men, have been feeling very unwell for the last half-hour."
The drugged soup had done its work.
"Indeed!" said Baptiste. "And, now that I look at you, your cheeks are somewhat pale, sir. But we will not wake Mr. Allen; it is unnecessary.
He left a bottle of medicine with me this afternoon. It is a powerful febrifuge, and he instructed me to give a dose to the sick men below, and to any others who should feel in any way indisposed. I think it would be a prudent course to serve some round to all hands. It can do no harm."
Duval approving of this measure, Baptiste went into his cabin and brought out the bottle of opiate which Carew had given him, and served out a very strong dose to Duval, and to each of the four men on his watch. Duval then retired to his cabin, and the men lay under the awning forward, all to sink, under the influence of the drug, into a heavy slumber, from which it would not be easy to wake them; while Baptiste was left in charge of the deck, with the two Spaniards and the remaining Frenchman.
"You feel all right, Leon, I hope?" said Baptiste to this man, a st.u.r.dy Breton, who had not been affected by the drugged soup.
"Yes, thank you, sir," he replied; "there's nothing the matter with me."
"Won't you take a dose of the medicine as a precaution? Prevention is better than cure."
"Not for me the filth. Time enough for medicine when one is ill, and not much good it does then if we may judge from the results on this unhappy vessel."
It was necessary for Baptiste's purpose to get this man out of the way before anything could be done. First he thought of asking the Spaniards to despatch him with their knives; but this might create a disturbance and awake the sleepers; so the cautious Provencal waited until a safer plan should suggest itself.
An hour of the watch had pa.s.sed, and it was now nine o'clock. The sky became overcast, and a drizzling rain began to fall.
"We shall have wind soon," said Leon. "Would it not be well to wake Mr.
Duval?"
"Not for a few minutes," replied Baptiste. "Come, now; this damp is the very thing to bring on fever. We ought to take something to keep the enemy out. If you don't like medicine, what say you to a drop of genuine old cognac? I have some in my cabin."
"That is more in my line," said the Breton, smacking his lips; "a fig for your doctor's stuff, I say."
"Then follow me, but step quietly. Mr. Duval's cabin is next to mine.
If he finds you drinking brandy aft, though it is only for medicinal purposes, you can guess what a row there will be."
Baptiste led the way to his cabin, and produced a bottle of brandy. He helped the man freely, but he did not attempt to drug the drink with the opiate, for its taste was too unmistakable.
The brandy was strong, and even the Breton's hard head soon succ.u.mbed to it. He began to exhibit signs of intoxication, and was chattering in a disconnected fashion, when Baptiste suddenly rose from his seat and placed his hand on the man's shoulder. "Hush!" he whispered; "hush, you idiot! I hear Mr. Duval moving in his cabin; your noise has roused him.
He will catch you if you don't hold your tongue. Remain here while I get him out of the way, under some pretext or other. Then I will return for you."
Baptiste darted through the cabin door, and locked it on the man within, who, after awaiting him for some time, helped himself to some more brandy, and at last fell into a drunken sleep on the bed.
Baptiste then entered Carew's cabin, and found him sitting up, reading the French novel which Captain Mourez had lent him.
"Come along, sir; the time has arrived," said the Provencal. "Bring the revolvers with you, and first see that they are loaded. I don't suppose we shall have to use them, but _Quien sabe?_ as the Spaniards say."
Carew made no reply, but taking the pistols from the locker in which he kept them, he followed his accomplice on to the deck. As they walked towards the fore part of the vessel Baptiste described his preparations for the _coup_. "The crew are at our mercy," he said; "Duval in his cabin, and the four men of his watch under the awning forward, are sleeping the heavy sleep of opium. Leon is a prisoner in my cabin, drunk or nearly so, in the company of an open bottle of brandy, and you say that the two sick men in the forecastle are too weak to move. Now, first of all, we must deal with the four men under the awning, for they are the most dangerous."
Still Carew said not a word.
The two Spaniards now joined them. Baptiste looked round the horizon.
"We shall have the wind down on us soon," he said; "we must do our work quickly."
The rain was falling more heavily than before. The night was very dark, and there was not a star visible in the heavens. Though as yet there was not a breath of wind, the ocean, as if in antic.i.p.ation of its coming, was heaving in a long, high swell, and the vessel rolled uneasily, her spars groaning dismally aloft.
Baptiste took two of the revolvers from Carew's hands and handed one to each of the Spaniards.
"Don't use them, lads, unless it is absolutely necessary; we don't want noise. You have your knives," he whispered.
"I have brought the bits of line you asked for," said El Chico, producing several lengths of small-sized but very strong rope.
"What do you intend to do, Baptiste?" inquired Carew, in a hoa.r.s.e voice, speaking for the first time.
"Pinion those sleepers securely with these cords, fasten a weight to each man's leg, and heave them overboard," replied Baptiste.
"It would be easier to knife them as they lie there," muttered El Toro, whose bloodthirsty instinct was up.
"Yes," sneered Baptiste; "you love the sight of blood, you mad bull. You would like to have a brutal fight now. But that plan will not suit me. I am a man of peace; I hate unnecessary disturbance. Now to work."
Then Carew spoke firmly, once more a.s.serting his right to command.
"Secure those men with the cords, but do not kill them. Let them live till to-morrow. Then I will decide what shall be done with them."
"What absurd folly is this?" hissed the Provencal savagely. "Do you wish to endanger all our lives? They may free themselves in the night and retake the ship. No, they must die."
"Silence! You shall know that I am still your master. These men shall not die to-night," said Carew resolutely.
"This is too much," cried Baptiste, with impatient fury. "I have arranged everything so well, and now you interfere to spoil all. Curse that intermittent conscience of yours. It is like a geyser spouting out tepid water at intervals, and always at the most inopportune moment."
"I will not discuss this with you," replied Carew doggedly; "but you know me, you coward. If you kill one of these men without my orders, except in self-defence, you will have to deal with me--you understand?"
The Provencal did understand. He swore some horrible oaths to himself, and said--
"There is no time to argue now. We will humour your fancy. Come on, El Toro and El Chico. Let us tie those fellows up as quickly and as quietly as we can."
The three men crept noiselessly to the awning beneath which the French sailors lay breathing stertorously under the stupefying influence of the strong narcotic.
Carew, meanwhile, stood outside under the rainy sky, motionless, taking no part in the proceedings, and at that moment wishing that the fever had seized him also and that he were dead and quit of it all.
Baptiste and the Spaniards stooped over the sleeping men, and with the skill of sailors bound their limbs in such a manner that it was impossible for them to stir, far less to free themselves. In so complete a state of coma were they that the tension of the tightly drawn cords did not rouse them, though they murmured in their sleep. Carew almost hoped that they would awake. If they defended themselves and were killed in the heat of a mortal struggle, it would not have seemed so horrible to him as this silent, pa.s.sionless piece of villainy.
When the men were all secured, Baptiste said, "If you will stand by here and guard the prisoners, captain, we will go aft and see to the others."
So leaving Carew behind, Baptiste and the two Spaniards went to the other end of the vessel and entered the saloon. First they softly opened the door of Baptiste's cabin, and there they found the Breton sailor sleeping soundly, the half-empty brandy bottle by his side.
The two Spaniards held him while Baptiste bound him firmly. It was not till the operation was concluded that he awoke. He opened his eyes and looked about him in a bewildered way for a few moments; then he tried to raise himself and could not; and, perceiving the cords that restrained him, he suddenly realised the situation, and called out at the top of his voice, "To the rescue! A mutiny! A mutiny!"