'Personally, no,' said Herrick. 'But the schooner had it.' 'Deaths?' from Attwater. 'Two,' said Herrick. 'Well, it is a dreadful sickness,' said Attwater. ''Ad you any deaths?' asked Huish, ''ere on the island?' 'Twenty-nine,' said Attwater. 'Twenty-nine deaths and thirty-one cases, out of thirty-three souls upon the island.--That's a strange way to calculate, Mr Hay, is it not? Souls! I never say it but it startles me.' 'Oh, so that's why everything's deserted?' said Huish. 'That is why, Mr Whish,' said Attwater; 'that is why the house is empty and the graveyard full.' 'Twenty-nine out of thirty-three!' exclaimed Herrick, 'Why, when it came to burying--or did you bother burying?' 'Scarcely,' said Attwater; 'or there was one day at least when we gave up. There were five of the dead that morning, and thirteen of the dying, and no one able to go about except the sexton and myself. We held a council of war, took the... empty bottles... into the lagoon, and buried them.' He looked over his shoulder, back at the bright water. 'Well, so you'll come to dinner, then? Shall we say half-past six. So good of you!' His voice, in uttering these conventional phrases, fell at once into the false measure of society; and Herrick unconsciously followed the example. 'I am sure we shall be very glad,' he said. 'At half-past six? Thank you so very much.' '“For my voice has been tuned to the note of the gun That startles the deep when the combat's begun,”' quoted Attwater, with a smile, which instantly gave way to an air of funereal solemnity. 'I shall particularly expect Mr Whish,' he continued. 'Mr Whish, I trust you understand the invitation?' 'I believe you, my boy!' replied the genial Huish. 'That is right then; and quite understood, is it not?' said Attwater. 'Mr Whish and Captain Brown at six-thirty without fault--and you, Hay, at four sharp.' And he called his boat. During all this talk, a load of thought or anxiety had weighed upon the captain. There was no part for which nature had so liberally endowed him as that of the genial ship captain. But today he was silent and abstracted. Those who knew him could see that he hearkened close to every syllable, and seemed to ponder and try it in balances. It would have been hard to say what look there was, cold, attentive, and sinister, as of a man maturing plans, which still brooded over the unconscious guest; it was here, it was there, it was nowhere; it was now so little that Herrick chid himself for an idle fancy; and anon it was so gross and palpable that you could say every hair on the man's head talked mischief. He woke up now, as with a start. 'You were talking of a charter,' said he. 'Was I?' said Attwater. 'Well, let's talk of it no more at present.' 'Your own schooner is overdue, I understand?' continued the captain. 'You understand perfectly, Captain Brown,' said Attwater; 'thirty-three days overdue at noon today.'