"Quick! away! leave him!" cried Baptiste rapidly. "To Duval's cabin, and secure him before this fellow's row wakes him. Quick! Quick!"

They ran across the saloon and burst into the mate's cabin, the two Spaniards leading the way; for Baptiste, like a prudent general, gave his orders from the rear.

There was a lamp burning in the cabin. Duval, roused by the din, was sitting up in his bed, half awake, still confused by the heavy dose of opium that had been administered to him. Just as the men violently swung the door open, Leon again raised the shout of "A mutiny! A mutiny! Mr.

Duval, defend yourself!"

The Norman heard that terrible cry, and all his senses returned to him in a moment.

"Grapple with him at once," cried Baptiste.

The two Spaniards precipitated themselves upon him; but though not a big man, he was a strong and wiry one. Leaping from his bunk he thrust the men aside, and seizing the only weapon within his reach, an iron water-can, he swung it round and brought it down on Baptiste's skull.

"Oh, you treacherous wretch, take that!" he cried.

The Provencal's evil career would have been terminated there and then had it not been for El Toro, who seized Duval's arm and broke the force of the blow. As it was, the sharp edge of the can inflicted an ugly wound, and Baptiste staggered back, the blood pouring all over his face.

"Kill him!" he hissed, sick and faint with pain and fear, but mad with rage.

El Toro needed no second bidding. He thrust his long knife quickly between the unfortunate man's ribs. Duval uttered one groan, and fell to the ground dead.

"That was deftly done," said the Basque, wiping the blade. "Ho! my little Baptiste. How dost thou feel with that cracked pate of thine?"

The Provencal was sitting on a chest, his head in his hands, trembling with fear. "Look at my head, good El Toro, I beseech you," he cried.

"See if it is a dangerous wound."

"A mere scratch," replied the Basque, after a cursory examination. "What a timorous woman thou art!"

His comrades washed the wound and bandaged his head; then Baptiste recovered his presence of mind, and gave his orders. "Put the body over the side at once, but first fasten a weight on to it. It must not float about to tell tales to some pa.s.sing vessel."

When this had been done, he said, "Now carry that noisy Leon out of my cabin. Take him forward to where the other prisoners are."

The Spaniards raised the helpless Breton, who, understanding that there was no one to whom he could give the alarm by crying out, now resigned himself to his fate, and uttered not a word as they laid him by the side of his four comrades.

"The vessel is ours!" Baptiste called out in a loud voice when he approached Carew. There was no further reason for the avoidance of noise. "I salute you, captain of _La Bonne Esperance_!"

"But where is Duval?" asked Carew.

"Killed, captain; but in self-defence. Look at my unfortunate head: that was his doing. Had it not been for our brave El Toro you would have lost your trusty mate."

Carew looked down at the five men lying on the deck. They were all awake now, the pain caused by the tightness of their ligatures having at last dispelled the lethargy of the drug. They realised all that had happened; they knew that they were doomed to die at the hands of this treacherous band. A lantern swung from the awning-pole above them, and by its dim light Carew saw that their faces wore an expression of dogged resolution, which changed suddenly to one of loathing and contempt when their eyes met his. Thus they stared at him in silence. He hastily turned his face away.

"What next, captain? It must be done sooner or later. Why not at once?"

said Baptiste.

"Take them into the forecastle for to-night. Secure the two sick men as well," was the reply.

"Just Heaven, what a cruel thing a British conscience is!" exclaimed Baptiste, with a loud, scornful laugh. He was intoxicated with the successful issue of his scheme. "I, the man without scruples, would have mercifully killed these men outright. You, the man of conscience, shrink from doing so, but are willing to shut them up in the pestilential hole yonder, so that an agonising fever may kill them for you. Do you really flatter yourself, oh, self-deceiver, that you in this way absolve your soul from the guilt?"

"Silence!" cried Carew angrily. The man's words had hit the mark. Some such vain idea had indeed crossed the warped mind. Arguments of a like sophistical nature were always now vaguely occurring to him, and he took care not to reason them out, being conscious of the fallacy of them, yet cherishing them. A form of moral insanity this, and not an uncommon one.

El Chico, who was standing by, heard Carew's last words. "Do you want us to die of the fever too, captain?" he grumbled. "Who's going to stand sentry over the prisoners in that poisonous forecastle?"

Carew saw the force of this objection.

"Then put them in a row along the bulwark and lash each one to a ring-bolt," he said.

"That is a better plan," remarked Baptiste; "we can thus keep our eyes on them without leaving the deck. El Chico, you keep watch for two hours, while the rest of us sleep. We require rest after our exciting day's work; and as for me, that cut over the head makes me feel rather queer."

"See, here comes the wind," cried Carew.

The clouds towards the east had opened out, revealing a patch of starry sky, and a light breeze had sprung up.

"There won't be much of it," said Baptiste, after he had scanned the heavens. "Let us shake out the spanker and lie-to under that for the night. And to-morrow morning, captain, you must decide how you are going to rid us of these men. We are too few to work the vessel, and cannot be bothered with guarding prisoners to please you."

CHAPTER XV

Her capture having been effected, the barque lay hove-to under her spanker for the night.

The south-east wind died away about midnight, and a light south-westerly breeze sprang up. A strong ocean current must have been setting from the same direction; for, though the islet of Trinidad had been so far distant at sunset as to be barely visible, the sound of breakers roaring on a beach could be plainly distinguished towards the end of the middle watch.

At daybreak Carew was left alone in charge of the vessel, his three men being asleep under the awning. He paced the deck restlessly, his heart aching with despairing misery.

The five prisoners, who were lashed along the foot of the port bulwarks, as if by one consent, observed a complete silence. They were too far apart to hold any communication with each other, and they knew how useless it would be to appeal to the mercy of the villains who had surprised them; but they all remained awake, watching intently for what they felt was not at all likely to occur--an opportunity to regain their freedom and fight for their lives.

The rain had ceased, the clouds had cleared away, and out of the calm night gleamed the brilliant constellations of the southern hemisphere.

There was a transparency, a depth in the heavens, such as is not apparent in northern lat.i.tudes. Through the nearer archipelagos of stars one could perceive others farther back, and beyond these others; stars behind stars up inconceivable distances into the depths of s.p.a.ce; so that they were so crowded together as to almost unite in forming one continuous sheet of silver light, save in one spot, where, amid that most luminous portion of the firmament known as Magellan's Cloud, there opened out, like to a black pit, a starless void, an infinite abyss of nothingness.

There came a faint emerald light in the east, which quickly changed to the pale blue of the turquoise, and the stars faded away before the rapid dawn of the tropics.

Then Carew saw, about ten miles off, standing out darkly between him and the sunrise, in sharp outline against the clear sky, the desert island of Trinidad.

It seemed to consist of a confused ma.s.s of barren mountains, most fantastic in their shape, falling everywhere precipitously into the ocean, and terminating in huge pinnacles of rock, the loftiest of which were crowned with wreaths of vapour. Elsewhere there were no clouds visible in the heavens. As the sun rose higher, its rays illumined these rugged summits, and they glowed as with the dull red of molten iron; for this island is a burnt-out volcano, and a considerable portion of it has been calcined into brittle cinders of a ruddy colour.

It being now broad daylight, Baptiste woke up, and coming from under the awning gave himself a shake by way of making his toilet, glanced down the row of prisoners to satisfy himself that they were still safely secured, and then turned his face towards the dreary coast.

"Hallo!" he cried, "we have drifted a long way in the night. That is an ugly-looking place yonder, captain. We must not get too near those black rocks; so we had better wake up those sleepers, and get some canvas on the barque at once. I suppose the next thing to be done is to make sail for the nearest Brazilian port."

"No, Baptiste, not yet," said Carew; "I shall come to an anchor under that island, and wait there for a few days."

"Indeed! What for?"

"I have various reasons. To begin with, look at the sky. There is every appearance of another long calm setting in. Remember that we have yellow fever on board. If we land our prisoners to-day, we shall lessen our own risks of catching it."

Baptiste whistled softly to himself.