Upon the quarterdeck of one of the vessels of war composing the great fleet, a vessel which may be called the _Ariadne_, the captain walked now as the storm passed away and the morning broke in all its fair tropical beauty, and while there came the balmy spice-laden breeze from the South American coast--a breeze soft as a maiden's first kiss to him she loves; one odorous and sweet, and luscious, too, with the scents of nutmeg and banana, guava and orange, begonia, bignonia, and poinsettia, all wafted from the flower-laden shore. But because, perhaps, such perfumes as these, such rippling blue waves, now crested with their feathery tips, such a bright warm sun, were not deemed by Nature to be the fitting accompaniments to the work which that fleet had to do and was about to do--she had provided others. Near the ship which has been called the _Ariadne_, alongside the great and noble flagship, the _Russell_, passing slowly--but deadly even in their slowness!--through the line made by the _Cumberland_, the _Boyne_, the _Lion_, the _Shrewsbury_, and a score of others, went the hideous white sharks of the Caribbean Sea, showing sometimes their gleaming, squinting eyes close to the surface of the water and showing always their dorsal fin as the water rippled by them. "The brutes know well that they will be fed ere long," the captain--Henry Thorne--said, half to himself, half aloud, as he gazed through the quarterdeck starboard port; "they know it very well. Trust them." "They must know it, sir," said the chaplain, a fine rosy-cheeked gentleman, who had already had his morning draught, wherefore his cheeks looked shiny and brilliant--he having been standing near Thorne while he murmured to himself--"specially since they have been fed enough already by our fleet. Three went overboard only yesterday from the _Weymouth_. While we are here they will never leave us." "So-so," the captain said. "So-so. 'Tis very true." Then, turning to the chaplain, he asked, "How is it with her below? Have you seen the surgeon's mate? What does he say? Is her hour of trial near?" "It is very near," the other answered. "Very near. Pray Heaven all may go well. Ere long we may hope to congratulate you, sir, upon paternal honours. 'Tis much to be desired that the Admiral will give no signal for the bombardment to commence until Mrs. Thorne is through her peril." "At least I hope so. With all my heart. Poor girl! Poor girl! I would never have brought my wife on board, Mr. Glew, had I known either of two things. The first that she was so near her time; the second, that we should be ordered to join this squadron--to quit our station at Port Royal." Whereby, as you may gather by this remark of Captain Thorne, the _Ariadne_ was not one of those great war vessels which had sailed from England under the order of the Admirals. Instead, she had come down from Jamaica, where she was stationed, to join the fleet now before Cartagena. Then the captain continued--