Suddenly he started to his feet, his heart beating violently. What was that he heard? Surely that last dreadful cry did not exist only in his fancy. "Baptiste, come here!" he called out. The mate sauntered up. "Listen!" whispered Carew; "do you hear nothing?" "Nothing but the noise of the breakers." Once more arose that awful cry. It was as a shriek of unutterable despair and agony; faint, but easily to be distinguished when the lull came between one roller and another. "What is it?" Baptiste himself turned white at the sound. "I know not; it makes one's blood run cold. See, they too have heard it." The Spaniards came up. "Oh, sir!" cried El Toro, his voice indistinct with terror, "let us make sail at once and leave behind us this horrible place. Hark! that cry again! It is as the shrieks of the doomed in hell. That island is the abode of evil spirits who are mocking us." "We cannot set sail in a flat calm. We must wait," said Carew, in a low voice. They stood on the deck and listened in silence. For half an hour or more those appalling cries continued; then they died away, and nothing was heard but the roaring of the ocean upon an iron-bound coast. CHAPTER XVI On the following day the fiery sun again blazed down upon the guilty ship out of a cloudless and windless sky. It seemed probable that one of those oppressive calms that are so frequent on this portion of the ocean would detain the barque for some days longer at her present anchorage. In the early morning, when the west side of the island was still plunged in shade, Carew approached the mate, who was enjoying his matutinal cup of coffee and cigarette on the quarter-deck. "Baptiste," he said, "I want a boat lowered; I am going on shore." "Good, sir. How many of us do you wish to accompany you?" "Thank you; I want none of you. Put the yacht's dinghy over the side. She is the handiest boat on board; and I will pull off by myself." "That will not be safe," objected Baptiste; "there is no place to beach a boat yonder, and she would smash up if you left her banging about alongside that rocky landing-place; we nearly lost the cutter in that way last night. If you desire to take a solitary promenade on that cheerful island, I will pull you off there myself in the dinghy, leave you, and return for you at any hour you mention."