He rolled himself up a cigarette, lit it, and, looking up, his eyes met those of Carew in the frankest way possible. And yet the solicitor had no doubt in his own mind that the man had committed the crimes imputed to him; and the Frenchman, on his part, did not imagine for a moment that Carew believed in his innocence. "I suppose you will now look out for another ship?" the solicitor said. "How can I do so in Rotterdam? My face is known here. I am execrated--hunted down. No captain would ship me, no crew serve with me." "Won't your consul assist you?" "I don't think so," replied the Frenchman drily. Neither spoke for some time; then Carew said, "I realise your position, and am sorry for you. Now supposing I were to ship you on board my yacht, I imagine that it would be a matter of indifference to you to what part of the world we sailed?" The Frenchman looked curiously and keenly at Carew out of the corners of his eyes. "I don't care a rap where I go to so long as I get out of this detestable Rotterdam," he replied. "And your friends--would they come too?" "Gladly. I will answer for them." "What sort of men are they?" "The little one, a Galician from Ferrol, is not at all a bad fellow, and he is an excellent sailor; but the big Basque is a savage brute--one of such is enough on a vessel. However, he can't do much harm by himself, unless he makes the rest of your crew discontented. Are they Englishmen?" "I am alone. I have discharged my crew; and there would only be you three and myself on board." "That would be a sufficient number to navigate this little ship. Do you really mean that you wish us to come with you?" "I do," replied Carew, after a slight hesitation; and the Frenchman eyed him with a not unnatural astonishment. The solicitor had rapidly surveyed the situation in all its bearings, and he had decided that it was his wisest and safest plan to engage these ruffians as his crew. Morally weak, acutely fearful of disgrace, and cowardly of conscience as he was, Carew had plenty of physical courage. He was not the least daunted by the idea of venturing across the wide ocean on a small yacht accompanied by these murderers. Here was a crew ready to sail with him at a moment's notice and ask no questions. He felt that he ran but very little risk, after all; for these ruffians would gain nothing by murdering him. Piracy, in the old sense of the term, is almost impossible in these days. These men by themselves could do nothing with the yacht; they could not take her into any civilised port and dispose of her; neither of them could impersonate an English barrister. The seizure of the _Vrouw Elisa_ was a very different matter; for the mutineers then knew that there was a revolutionary party ready to purchase the vessel they had stolen.