The baronet and I were reclining in contiguous chairs, placidly smoking our post-prandial cigars; the ladies were below, Miss Merrivale being seated at the piano, accompanying her sister, who--having by this time quite recovered her health and spirits--was singing some quaint, old-fashioned ballad in a full, rich contralto voice that could be distinctly heard from one end of the ship to the other, and probably far beyond. As for the chief mate, he was pacing the deck thoughtfully and steadily to and fro with an energy that, taking the heat and closeness of the night into consideration, seemed to bespeak an uneasy mind. After a while he halted alongside the binnacle, gazed abstractedly into it for about half a minute, and then, turning to the nodding helmsman, inquired whether he knew where he was running the ship to. "She hasn't had steerage-way on her since I came aft, at eight bells, sir," was the reply. "She hasn't, eh?" remarked Roberts. "Well, if that's the case, the compass isn't of much use to you, is it? So," pulling off his jacket, "as it's hardly worth while to proclaim our exact whereabouts to everybody, we'll just mask the light until a breeze springs up." Saying which, he laid his jacket very carefully over the hood of the binnacle, completely obscuring the not very brilliant light that shone therefrom. "What is Roberts' idea in hiding the binnacle light in that fashion?" asked Sir Edgar, turning to me, as the mate again walked forward, pausing for some minutes near the head of the short poop ladder, and apparently peering anxiously round him into the obscurity. "Well," said I, "I think he perhaps feels a little uneasy at our being becalmed just here, and in such an intensely dark night, too. The Malays have the name of being born pirates, you know, and should they happen to take it into their heads to attack us just now, it would be rather awkward, since we could do absolutely nothing to avoid them while this calm lasts." "Do _you_ think there is any danger of such an occurrence, captain?" he asked, with manifest anxiety. "Not very much," I replied. "There were no suspicious craft visible at nightfall. Still, an attack is by no means an impossibility, especially on such a dark night. The circumstances are precisely those which I imagine would be deemed highly favourable by people piratically inclined." "Then why, in Heaven's name, my good sir, do you not make preparation for such an eventuality?" exclaimed my companion, excitedly. "For the simple reason," I replied, "that all the preparation possible could be made in five minutes; and, as a matter of fact, I was only waiting until you had all retired, when I intended at once making them. Two slashes of a sharp knife would suffice to release those boarding-pikes from the boom; and you can easily calculate for yourself the length of time it would take to serve out a brace of revolvers and a cutlass to each of our small crew."