"Piracy, in the ordinary sense of the term, is of course out of date," continued the mate, as he sipped his fiery rum; "but the intelligent man adapts his method to the age he lives in. I will now tell you a little story. An English yacht, manned by four worthy fellows, sails out of Rio one fine day. In the night, when she is some leagues from the land, a dreadful accident of some kind happens--say she runs into a large fragment of wreckage, and staves herself in. Anyhow, she founders. Happily, her crew have time to lower the boat, and getting into it they pull away, weeping to behold the vessel, that has been their home for so long, go down. But they feel happier and dry their eyes when their brave captain tells them that the yacht is well insured. Providence assists them, for at daybreak they sight a French barque. They signal to her, are seen, are soon taken on board, and the barque resumes her voyage to Europe. After some days our four shipwrecked mariners, who have been watching their opportunity, and who are well armed, surprise the crew, take possession of the vessel, sail her into the nearest port, and claim salvage for the derelict which they have had the luck to pick up; and their lives for the future are happy, wealthy, and respectable. Do you follow my story, captain? Hi! waiter, bring us some more rum and some Bahia cigars." Carew sat quite motionless for some time, looking downwards, so that Baptiste could not see the expression of his face. The black brought the rum to the table and went away again. Then Carew raised his head. "I follow your story," he said, in a low, husky voice; "but you did not mention what became of the crew of the barque." "Ah, yes! What did become of them?" exclaimed the mate in an airy way. "I forget. They were lost somehow, I imagine--were disposed of in some convenient fashion--who knows? But that is a detail." Carew's face had turned fearfully white. "Thou devil!" he cried passionately, between his set teeth. "Not that--not that! Speak no more of this. It is impossible." "Understand me, captain," said the mate, abandoning his bantering tone for one of serious determination. "You are not going to have everything your own way. I must have money, and plenty of it. El Chico and El Toro must have money. Join us in carrying out this scheme, and we will share the spoil between the four of us. If you don't agree to this, I will expose you at once, Mr. Carew, and you will know what a nasty hole a Brazilian prison is. I am sorry to use this language, but business is business, captain." Carew looked down again, and Baptiste, furtively watching him, saw that his mouth was twitching and the perspiration breaking out on his forehead.