The wretched man endeavoured to think his way out of the terrible dilemma before him. He had to choose between the commission of a crime more atrocious than any he had ever conceived, and a disgrace and punishment infinitely worse than death. He tried to realise his position, but his brain seemed numbed. The two alternatives kept crossing and recrossing his mind in rapid succession. He was conscious of them, but he could not reason upon them. He was incapable of consecutive thought for the time. Suddenly a discordant brass band in a low dancing saloon hard by burst out into a triumphant march, as a prelude to the night's riot of drunken sailors. It was a fragment of some French opera-bouffe, suggestive of feverish joy heedless of the morrow, of mad and reckless orgie. The sound was in accord with the man's distracted state. It at once awoke his mind from its lethargy. A wild and fierce impulse rushed upon him. Blindly he abandoned himself to what he considered to be his destiny, and a tempter seemed to whisper to him, "Trust to your luck. See how luck has been with you so far. Fortune will certainly find some way of relieving you of the crew of the barque, so that it will not be necessary for you to have their blood on your head. Arthur Allen stood in your path. He was removed from it; yet you were not his murderer. So will it be now. Trust to chance." Then Carew looked up. His features were calm and rigid, but had a ghastly expression. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but appeared to be unable to articulate. He poured himself out a quantity of the white rum into a glass and swallowed it. "And the other two men?" he whispered hoarsely. Baptiste understood his meaning. "El Chico and El Toro can be relied upon for this business. I know them," he said. The eyes of the two men met. There was a long pause. Then Carew muttered the two words-- "I consent!" CHAPTER XI Carew and the mate left the café, traversed the brilliantly lighted city, and returned to the yacht. At an early hour on the following morning, Carew, too restless to sleep, came on deck. The sky was cloudless and the rising sun illumined the romantic scenery of the bay. A cool breeze blew seaward from the wooded mountains, odorous of spices and tropical blossoms. The sight of a world so glad and fair, so fresh and ever-young, might well make the saddest soul feel the joy of mere existence and look to life as a treasure worth the possessing.