On the day after the crew of the Petrel had been taken on board the barque the wind freshened and was so much to the south of east that the vessel was enabled to sail in a north-easterly direction, a course which would bring her to the vicinity of the Trinidad and Martin Vas Archipelago.

When Carew came on deck in the morning he found Baptiste there before him. The ProvenÇal walked up to him jauntily, twirling his long black moustache, and looking jubilant. "I have seen young HallÉ again," he said, in a low voice. "He is very bad. The symptoms are unmistakable; but no one suspects the truth so far. Two other men are complaining of headache."

"Let the accursed plague work its way," said Carew gloomily, "but tell me nothing about it."

"So be it, sir," said Baptiste, with a shrug of his shoulders.

The springing up of so favourable a wind put the captain of La Bonne Esperance in a very contented frame of mind. In his delight he became more talkative than was his wont, and at frequent intervals during the day sought out Carew in order to converse with him.

Carew, for his part, did his utmost—without appearing churlish—to avoid the company of Captain Mourez; for he recognised him as being a kind-hearted and an honest man.

The captain observed his passenger's unsociable mood, and, attributing this to his sorrow at the loss of his yacht, endeavoured to cheer him with lively gossip, but produced the opposite result.

Nothing noteworthy occurred during the day; the wind held steady, and the vessel made good progress. At about ten o'clock that night, Carew was sitting alone in the saloon, killing thought by reading a French novel which the captain had lent him, when Mourez himself came in. His face bore a very anxious expression.

"Mr. Allen," he said, "I am seriously alarmed about that man HallÉ. I fear that he has the fever."

"The yellow fever?" exclaimed Carew, not raising his eyes from his book.

"It seems so to me; but I have never seen a case of yellow fever. Do you mind coming with me to the forecastle and giving me your opinion?"

"I will do so with pleasure," replied Carew, rising from his seat; "but my opinion is not worth much."

They entered the forecastle, which was dimly lighted by a small lantern. HallÉ was lying on his bunk, keeping up a constant delirious chatter. The other men, instead of sleeping soundly through their watch below after the manner of sailors, were sitting together in a group at the corner of the forecastle farthest removed from the sick man, looking scared and talking to each other in subdued voices.

Carew stood by HallÉ's bunk and looked at him. A change for the worse had recently come on. His face wore an expression of intense anxiety. His skin was wrinkled and of a dark yellow colour.

The captain made a sign to Carew, and they went on deck again. "I have never seen yellow fever," said the latter; "ask my mate, Baptiste Fortier, what he thinks about it; he has had the fever himself." Thus did this strange man trifle with his conscience as usual, and attempt to shift the responsibility for the next step in the tragedy on to his companion.

Baptiste was found, and was sent into the forecastle. It would be quite useless to lie about the facts now, so, returning to where Carew and Mourez were standing, he said, "It is yellow fever. I am sure of it."

On hearing this the captain began to pace up and down the deck in a state of great agitation, wringing his hands. "Good heavens! this is a terrible affair," he cried. "For thirty hours HallÉ has been spreading contagion in the forecastle. Who knows where this will end?"

Then Captain Mourez stood still, and after pondering a little while addressed Carew. "I must at once convert some portion of the vessel into a hospital. The forecastle is no longer a fit place for the healthy men, so we will give it up to the sick. Sir, we must pray for a fresh breeze to carry us quickly into northern latitudes, where the cold will kill the plague that has come to us."

At that moment the boatswain came on to the quarter-deck, and Mourez ordered him to call up the watch below.

The men reached the deck with unusual promptitude. They were summoned aft, and the captain in a few words explained to them how matters stood, and exhorted them to be courageous as French sailors should be. He ordered them to rig up a large awning forward, under which the crew were to live so long as the vessel was in warm latitudes. He also instructed the boatswain to ventilate the forecastle as thoroughly as was possible by means of wind-sails, so that a cool temperature might be obtained for the sick men.

On the following day two other men fell ill, and were admitted into the hospital. In the afternoon HallÉ died, and his body was immediately lowered into the sea.

Before sunset the loom of land was visible over the ship's bows. It was the desert island of Trinidad, situated near latitude 20 deg. south, about six hundred miles from the coast of Brazil.

And now a most unfortunate calamity befell the pestilence-stricken vessel. The wind completely died away, and she lay motionless on a sea of oily smoothness for three whole days. The vertical sun blazed down upon her out of the cloudless sky, and the intense sultriness of the atmosphere lowered the energies of those who were still in good health, and predisposed them to contagion, while it hurried on the fatal termination of the fever for the sick. A gloom fell on the ship's company. The men looked into each other's faces with helpless terror, for what could be done against this invisible foe? One after another sickened, died, and was lowered over the side in shotted shroud. Baptiste and the two Spaniards, though they considered themselves acclimatised to the tropics, and almost proof against contagion, shared the prevailing sense of terror.

On the second day of the calm, the captain, who had doctored all the sick men to the best of his ability, was himself attacked by the fever.

Carew, who had some little knowledge of medicine, volunteered to take his place, and as the mate gratefully complied with his request, employed all his time in attending upon the patients in the forecastle and the captain in his cabin.

On the third day of the calm the contagion seemed to have spent itself. No fresh cases were reported, and those who were lying sick became no worse.

Up to this date eight men out of the seventeen that composed the ship's company had died. Among these were the boatswain and the ship's cook. It was necessary to appoint some other man to take charge of the port watch; so the mate, after consulting with Carew, gave this post to Baptiste, as being the best educated man on board. The ProvenÇal asked that the two Spaniards should be put upon his watch. El Chico, acting under Baptiste's orders, offered to undertake the duties of ship's cook.

On this morning, being the fifth since the Petrel's crew had been received on board, the mate came up to Baptiste and made some remarks to him which set the wily ruffian thinking. Duval had asked him whether he did not think the fever showed signs of abating.

"It is impossible to say yet," replied Baptiste. "Yellow fever always comes in waves; it subsides and intensifies alternately."

"You see, comrade," said Duval, "that even if we include you four, we are now very short handed. If we lose a few more men, we cannot sail this barque to Europe. I have decided to run back to Rio as soon as a breeze springs up."

When the mate left him, Baptiste went in search of Carew, and found him in the captain's cabin, watching the sick man, who was now lying insensible in the last stage of the fever.

Baptiste looked into the pain-distorted face. "He will go soon," he whispered to Carew.

Carew nodded.

"That was a clever idea of yours, sir," said the Frenchman.

"What idea?"

"To constitute yourself ship's doctor."

Carew made no reply, but he understood what the remark signified. Baptiste, however, had misjudged him. With his usual inconsistency in crime, far from availing himself of his opportunities to poison the men, he had, on the contrary, risked his life and done his utmost to save the captain and the others under his charge. He was happier and was pleased with himself while acting thus, though he was also glad to find that his patients died despite his efforts. He seemed to imagine that he was driving a bargain with avenging Heaven—that he could set off his present righteous conduct against his other crimes. Men who reason with the greatest clearness on all other matters, often become insanely illogical when a guilty conscience asks for soothing casuistry.

"How are you treating him?" asked Baptiste.

"Not in the way you are thinking of," Carew replied, looking into the other's eyes.

Baptiste saw that he had been mistaken in his surmise, but said no more on the subject.

Carew's box of medicines was by his side. Baptiste looked into it, and drew out a bottle. "This is not poison, is it?" he asked.

"No; but if you took a good dose of it it would make you feel very ill."

"What is a good dose of it?"

"About ten drops; it is in a concentrated form."

"That will answer my purpose, then," and Baptiste put the bottle in his pocket. "And now, sir, I want some stuff that will prevent insomnia."

The eyes of the two men met. Carew asked no questions, but merely said, "Take this bottle, then. Half a teaspoonful is a large dose."

"Let us go into your cabin for a few minutes," said Baptiste, glancing at Mourez. "This man seems quite unconscious; but a man may hear as long as he has breath in him. I will not trust him."

They crossed the saloon to Carew's cabin.

"Well, what is it?"

"The fever and the hot calm have done our work well while we have been standing by idle," said the Frenchman; "but now the time has come for us to act. We must seize this vessel to-night. There is a look of wind in the sky now, and Duval will set sail and make for Rio as soon as a breeze springs up. We must wait no longer."

"Let it be to-night, then."

"Come on deck at ten o'clock this evening. Bring the revolvers with you. Leave all the rest to me. You dislike details, so I will arrange everything."

Carew bowed his head in assent, but said nothing.

"You have two sick men in the forecastle, I think," said Baptiste; "are they strong enough to make any resistance?"

Carew shook his head.

"That is well. The captain will certainly not have much fight in him. So that leaves us only six healthy men to deal with; one on my watch, five on the other watch."

The mate now went on deck, and Carew returned to the captain's cabin. He found that brave sailor lying on his bed dead.

"I am glad—for his sake and for mine," muttered the Englishman to himself.