It is no pleasant task to describe the events that now took place on the French barque. This is no tale of daring buccaneers, of exciting hand-to-hand combats of desperate men; but a narrative of cold-blooded and dastardly crime.

Now that the time for carrying out his devilish scheme had come, Baptiste had taken the lead of the conspirators. Being a pacific person who hated fighting and feared danger, he determined to omit no possible precaution to obviate the risk of failure. His brain, fertile of ingenious villainy, was not long in devising how to do this.

In the first place, he instructed Carew on no account to leave his cabin between eight and ten that evening. Then he called aside the two Spaniards and explained his plan to them. He gave El Chico the first bottle which he had taken from Carew's medicine chest, and directed him to mix a certain quantity of the contents with the soup he was about to make for the men's dinner—a quantity which he calculated would be insufficient to produce a pronounced taste in the soup, but sufficient to cause unpleasant sensations in those who partook of it.

At eight bells that evening the port watch relieved the starboard. There was absolutely nothing for the men to do, as it was still a flat calm, and all the sails had been furled. Duval had taken this precaution on the previous day, fearing that the fever might spread still further, and that he would not have enough hands left to shorten sail were a strong breeze to spring up suddenly.

Duval, however, insisted upon the watches being set and the discipline of the vessel being carried on as usual, more with the object of employing the men's time and distracting their attention from the horrors of the situation than for any other reason.

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, LÉon, I hope?" said Baptiste to this man, a sturdy 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 ProvenÇal waited until a safer plan should suggest itself.

An hour of the watch had passed, and it was now nine o'clock. The sky became overcast, and a drizzling rain began to fall.

"We shall have wind soon," said LÉon. "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 succumbed 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 ProvenÇal. "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. LÉon 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 anticipation 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 hoarse 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 asserting 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 ProvenÇal 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 ProvenÇal 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, passionless 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!"

"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, LÉon 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 ProvenÇal'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 ProvenÇal 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 passing vessel."

When this had been done, he said, "Now carry that noisy LÉon 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."