While these four were sitting in the saloon talking over the wreck of the _Petrel_, there was suddenly heard the sound of something falling heavily on the deck just overhead; then a cry and a scuffling of many feet. Duval hurried on deck to learn what the noise signified. Shortly afterwards he returned again. "It is that imbecile young apprentice, Hallé, again. What an awkward cub it is! He has fallen from the mizzen rigging this time; not from a great height, luckily. He has not hurt himself seriously, but he seems rather sick and dizzy." The crew of the _Petrel_ were soon at home on their new vessel. El Toro and El Chico were made much of by the kindly Frenchmen in the forecastle. As luck would have it, none of the crew of the barque understood Spanish; so the two Spaniards, who knew no French, had not to reply to questions as to the details of the yacht's misadventure. El Toro especially, whose dense head was entirely devoid of imagination, would have been certain to come to grief in attempting to lie in an ingenious and consistent manner. In the afternoon the loquacious Norman mate insisted on taking Carew and Baptiste all over the vessel and showing them everything. He was gratified by the keen interest the two passengers seemed to take in his explanation. They listened attentively to all he said, for reasons of their own. They learnt that the vessel's company, officers included, numbered seventeen souls; that there was no second mate, but that the boatswain took the port watch and lived with the carpenter in the small deck-house. Duval also took them into the forecastle, where some of the watch off duty were sleeping at the time. Among them was the young apprentice who had fallen from the rigging. He was tossing about restlessly in his bunk, and his face was very flushed. Baptiste as he passed by glanced casually at him, then scanned his face earnestly for some time. "Come out of this," he said to Carew. "It is too hot down here. Let us go on deck." That evening the wind freshened considerably, and the barque, with yards braced up, was making good way through the water. Carew, unable to sleep, came on deck shortly before midnight, and sat down in a dark, quiet corner to meditate. Now that the excitement of the preliminary preparations was over, he began to realise to the full what was before him; and an intense abhorrence of the crime he had undertaken once more oppressed his soul. He could not retreat now. He must be the cause of the death of all these innocent men, who had come to the rescue of his life. If he spared them he would be carried on to England to pay the penalty of his offences. As he sat brooding thus miserably, a man walked towards him from the fore part of the ship. Carew saw the red glow of his cigarette before he could distinguish the man in the darkness, and he knew that it was his evil genius. "Baptiste, is that you?" "Here I am, captain. A lovely night, is it not?"