"That will do then, only it must be done with a certain amount of cunning, or they may have suspicions. Depend upon it, if I am seen in it they will not take the stuff." "Then what is to be done?" said Mr Frewen. "I propose," replied Mr Brymer, "that I get a couple of tins out of the store and open them. Then Dale here shall take them to the cook; the excuse for their being opened is to be that so many tins have gone bad." "Which is true enough," said the captain, feebly. "Exactly," continued Mr Brymer; "and these were opened to make sure that they were all right." "Well?" "You can give me the stuff--laudanum, or whatever it is--to mix with the contents of one tin, which Dale can take to the cook, and tell him to warm up and reduce with hot water, while he reserves the other for our table." "But why give him two?" said the doctor. "Because I want to avert suspicion in every way. The cook has been mixed up with the men, and he shut himself up as you know in dread of our punishing him, perhaps shooting him down. He may suspect something, and manage to warn the men. If two tins are sent, one for the men and one for our own table, everything will look simple and ordinary." "And suppose he gives us the drugged one by mistake?" "We can guard against that by sending a large one and a small one. No-- by sending two different kinds." "There is only one kind," said the captain. "I don't like the plan," said the doctor. "It may end in a mistake, and we don't want to be hoist with our own petard." "Hang it, no!" cried Mr Brymer. "All right then, we will not eat the soup." "But why shouldn't I take my drug--it will only be a small portion of a white powder--and drop it into the soup when it is ready?" "Because there would certainly be some hitch in the proceedings to hinder you getting it in. Besides, we don't want the cook to be in the secret." "Very well then," said the doctor, "I suppose that must be the plan. I'll go and get the drug ready at once, and bring it here. But one minute; how many men are there in the forecastle?--because I must reckon accordingly." "Say sixteen. You must give them a pretty good dose." "Yes; but not strong enough to be risky," said Mr Frewen; and he signed to me to go with him to his cabin, where he opened his medicine-chest, and after a little thought, carefully weighed out, from a stoppered bottle, an absurdly small portion of a whitish powder and placed it in a square of white paper. "There," he said, "take that to Mr Brymer, and tell him to give it a good stir round, or we shall be killing some of the scoundrels, and letting others off scot free." "Yes," I said, looking with no little interest at the powder which he had turned out of the tiny scales he had used. "The cook is sure to stir it well too. But, Mr Frewen, will that little pinch or two of stuff be enough?" "Plenty," he said. "It is as far as I dare go, for it is most potent." "And it will send them off to sleep?"