"Ha!" cried he, sniffing vigorously, "I smell something good--something I am ready for. There is no physic like sleep," and with that he stretched out his arms with a great yawn, then rose very agilely, kicking the clothes and mattress on one side and bringing a bench close to the furnace. "What time is it, sir?" "Something after twelve by the captain's watch," said I, pulling it out and looking at it. "But 'tis guesswork time." "The _captain's watch_?" cried he, with a short loud laugh. "You are modest, Mr. ----" "Paul Rodney," said I, seeing he stopped for my name. "Yes, modest, Mr. Paul Rodney. That watch is yours, sir; and you mean it shall be yours." "Well, Mr. Tassard," said I, colouring in spite of myself, though he could not witness the change in such a light as that, "I felt this, that if I left the watch in the captain's pocket it was bound to go to the bottom ultimately, and----" "Bah!" he interrupted, with a violent flourish of the hand. "Let us save the schooner, if possible; there will be more than one watch for your pocket, more than one doubloon for your purse. Meanwhile, to dinner! My stupor has converted me into an empty hogshead, and it will take me a fortnight of hard eating to feel that I have broken my fast." With a blow of the chopper he struck off a lump of the frozen wine, and then fell to, eating perhaps as a man might be expected to eat who had not had a meal for eight-and-forty years. "There are two of your companions on deck," said I. He started. "Frozen," I continued; "they'll be the bodies of Trentanove and Joam Barros?" He nodded. "There is no reason why they should be deader than you were. It is true that Barros has been on deck whilst you have been below; but after you pass a certain degree of cold fiercer rigours cannot signify." "What do you propose?" said he, looking at me oddly. "Why, that we should carry them to the fire and rub them, and bring them to if we can." "Why?" I was staggered by his indifference, for I had believed he would have shown himself very eager to restore his old companions and shipmates to life. I was searching for an answer to his strange inquiry, "Why?" when he proceeded,-- "First of all, my friend Trentanove was stone-blind, and Barros nearly blind. Unless you could return them their sight with their life they would curse you for disturbing them. Better the blackness of death than the blackness of life." "There is the body of the captain," said I. He grinned. "Let them sleep," said he. "Do you know that they are cutthroats, who would reward your kindness with the poniard that you might not tell tales against them or claim a share of the treasure in this vessel? Of all desperate villains I never met the like of Barros. He loved blood even better than money. He'd quench his thirst before an engagement with gunpowder mixed in brandy. I once saw him choke a man--tut! he is very well--leave him to his repose."