“The captain can answer that question for himself, and I cannot answer it for him,” replied Raymond. “All I have to do is to obey my orders.” “Suppose he should take it into his head to run for the South Sea Islands on a pleasure-excursion: should you feel it to be your duty to obey orders without a protest, and go with him?” demanded Gregory. “The captain is not doing any thing of that sort, and there is no need of answering conundrums,” replied Raymond warmly. “This is a case of life and death with thirty-two people on board of the wreck; and it has been decided by the captain, after consultation with all the adults on board, to tow the hulk to Portsmouth.” “But it is a thousand miles to England.” “It is more than that; but, if it were three thousand, I should obey orders all the same.” “I don’t think we are justified in obeying orders under such circumstances,” continued Gregory. “I think Mr. Fluxion will blame you and me if we assist in sailing the steamer off on this long voyage, when the orders were to take the vessel to the Madeiras.” “Of course you have a right to your own opinion, Mr. Gregory,” added Raymond coldly. “Good-morning.” The fourth officer left the pilot-house, where the conversation had been carried on in the presence of the quartermaster and the seaman who were steering the steamer. He was sorry he had listened so long to the malecontent; and, as he walked aft, he debated with himself whether or not he ought to wake the captain, and inform him of the mutinous sentiments uttered by the first officer. But Gregory had taken the trumpet, and had not yet declined to obey the orders of the captain as transmitted to him by his predecessor in charge; and he concluded to say nothing that might place him in the position of a tale-bearer. He turned in; but, as he had had his full six hours of sleep, he lay awake thinking of what Gregory had said to him. Gregory wanted to do something; and, by diligent thinking, he had fully persuaded himself that the course taken by Capt. O’Hara was all wrong. In the first place, he was exposing the ship’s company to the perils of contagion; and, in the second, he was disregarding his orders to take the steamer to Madeira in the event that she should part company with the schooners. He concluded that these were the orders, though he had not heard the senior vice-principal give the instructions to the commander of the steamer. “I think you are quite right, Mr. Gregory,” said the quartermaster at the wheel, after Raymond had gone. “If the truth were known, Capt. Fairfield is of the same mind. I know the fellows from the Josephine don’t like the idea of breathing the air from that floating hospital for the next week or ten days; nor of going off on a cruise two or three weeks, wherever Mr. O’Hara or the Tritonia chooses to take them.”