"Yes, I know it too well," said the old man. "I was a soldier of the Argentine Republic, and lived on mare's flesh on the Indian frontier for four years." "What made you do that?" asked Carew. "I see you are a stranger to South America, sir. Understand, I was not a volunteer. I had a misfortune, and therefore was pressed into the army for punishment." "To have a misfortune is a Pampas euphemism for having murdered a man," explained the mate. "There is, as you know, no capital punishment in the River Plate," continued the Italian; "if a man kills another the penalty is so many years' service in the army." "What a respectable army it must be," remarked Carew. "It is so," said Baptiste. "They are wise people, those Argentines. If a man is addicted to homicide for his private ends, they turn him into a wholesale homicide for the public good. That may be called the homoeopathic treatment of murder; like curing like." Carew laughed boisterously at the mate's witticism, and the silent men at the tables round, hating the sound of merriment, turned their faces towards him and scowled savagely. A species of intoxication had come to Carew. The strange sights and strong emotions of the day, the grotesque contrast presented by this lovely bower of pure blossoms and the foul and evil men who sat beneath it, confused his brain. His surroundings seemed so fantastically inconsistent--so unreal--that he felt as if he were some irresponsible being in a land of dreams, that it mattered not what he did. He was filled with a reckless joviality. The mate had been watching him with his keen eyes. He knew what this exaltation of spirits indicated, and divined that the moment was opportune for the mooting of his diabolical scheme. In the present condition of his mental faculties, the captain's obstructive conscience would be partly paralysed, and he would be able to listen to the mate's proposals without overmuch shrinking horror. So the shrewd Frenchman, losing no more time, hinted to the host that his presence at the table was no longer needed, and Querini took himself off to hobnob with another acquaintance. Baptiste then stretched out his legs and said-- "This is very comfortable after having been cramped up so long on board that little boat of yours; but I hope, sir, to see you captain of a much larger vessel in a week or so at the latest." "So we are coming to your wonderful scheme. Let me hear all about it." "You remember, sir, that as we sailed into the bay this morning I pointed out a small barque to El Toro, and remarked how much she resembled the old _Vrouw Elisa_." "I remember your words perfectly. You betrayed yourself." "Intentionally, captain. We understand each other now; there are no secrets between us. Away with hypocrisy! Of course El Toro, El Chico, and myself formed part of the crew of the _Vrouw Elisa_. But it is unnecessary to recount to you our adventures on board that vessel." "They do not interest me."