A few months before this Carew had contemplated suicide--had regarded death as a welcome deliverance from his troubles. Now it was otherwise; he set a value on his life. The causes of this change were commonplace enough, as are most of the motives that decide the momentous crises of a man's history. A healthy life in the open air at sea tends to develop the instinct of self-preservation and banishes morbid meditations. Again, the longer one has been contesting some keen game of chance and skill, the more anxious one is to come off the victor. This man had been playing a clever and desperate game for freedom--which for him meant life--ever since he had left England. Fortune had favoured him so long that he would not abandon hope and acknowledge defeat now. The ultimate victory had become so dear to him that he was not likely to be very squeamish as to the means he should employ to obtain it. So Carew had hardened his heart, or rather, having resolved on a course of action, he closed the avenues of his mind to certain unpleasant thoughts on the future. Not being as unscrupulous as his French associate, he found it necessary to employ an immense amount of self-deception. He allowed himself to drift, as it were, from one crime to another, trying to believe that his fate was compelling him; but he carefully avoided looking beyond the immediate present. He would not think of the far greater iniquities to which he was committing himself by the action he was now taking. He wilfully closed his eyes, and let the morrow take care of itself. When Baptiste joined the captain on deck he was exceedingly surprised to find him in a cheerful mood, and anxious to arrange as quickly as possible the plan for the seizure of the barque. Carew found a relief in the active employment of his brain, and he now exhibited considerable ingenuity. He described his views in detail to the mate, who looked with wonder at this inconsistent Englishman, whose complex nature he felt that he was very far from understanding. With all his vacillation, when Carew had made up his mind one way or the other, he acted promptly and with energy. "Baptiste," he said, "in the first place, we ought to be armed. We all have knives, but there is only one revolver on board. I want you to take my watch and chain on shore, pawn or sell them, and buy three revolvers and some ammunition. You can take charge of your weapon at once, but I will keep those of the two men until the time comes." "That is right," said the mate; "those children are not to be trusted with firearms. The first time they played at _monte_ they would be scattering each other's brains over the cards. I know a slop shop where there are generally some good six-shooters on sale. I will barter your watch there."