Baptiste took two of the revolvers from Carew's hands and handed one to each of the Spaniards. "Don't use them, lads, unless it is absolutely necessary; we don't want noise. You have your knives," he whispered. "I have brought the bits of line you asked for," said El Chico, producing several lengths of small-sized but very strong rope. "What do you intend to do, Baptiste?" inquired Carew, in a hoarse voice, speaking for the first time. "Pinion those sleepers securely with these cords, fasten a weight to each man's leg, and heave them overboard," replied Baptiste. "It would be easier to knife them as they lie there," muttered El Toro, whose bloodthirsty instinct was up. "Yes," sneered Baptiste; "you love the sight of blood, you mad bull. You would like to have a brutal fight now. But that plan will not suit me. I am a man of peace; I hate unnecessary disturbance. Now to work." Then Carew spoke firmly, once more asserting his right to command. "Secure those men with the cords, but do not kill them. Let them live till to-morrow. Then I will decide what shall be done with them." "What absurd folly is this?" hissed the Provençal savagely. "Do you wish to endanger all our lives? They may free themselves in the night and retake the ship. No, they must die." "Silence! You shall know that I am still your master. These men shall not die to-night," said Carew resolutely. "This is too much," cried Baptiste, with impatient fury. "I have arranged everything so well, and now you interfere to spoil all. Curse that intermittent conscience of yours. It is like a geyser spouting out tepid water at intervals, and always at the most inopportune moment." "I will not discuss this with you," replied Carew doggedly; "but you know me, you coward. If you kill one of these men without my orders, except in self-defence, you will have to deal with me--you understand?" The Provençal did understand. He swore some horrible oaths to himself, and said-- "There is no time to argue now. We will humour your fancy. Come on, El Toro and El Chico. Let us tie those fellows up as quickly and as quietly as we can." The three men crept noiselessly to the awning beneath which the French sailors lay breathing stertorously under the stupefying influence of the strong narcotic. Carew, meanwhile, stood outside under the rainy sky, motionless, taking no part in the proceedings, and at that moment wishing that the fever had seized him also and that he were dead and quit of it all.