ter than his previous terrible paleness
seemed to leave even his lips without blood. He wavered on his feet,
as if he were staggering.

"You're sick!" said Bell sharply. Instinctively he moved forward.

The fine dark eyes regarded him oddly. And Ortiz suddenly took his
hands from the railing of the promenade deck. He looked at his fingers
detachedly. And Bell could see them writhing, opening and closing in a
horribly sensate fashion, as if they were possessed of devils and
altogether beyond the control of their owner. And he suddenly realized
that the steady, grim regard with which Ortiz looked at his hands was
exactly like the look he had seen upon a man's face once, when that
man saw a venomous snake crawling toward him and had absolutely no
weapon.

Ortiz was looking at his fingers as a man might look at cobras at the
ends of his wrists. Very calmly, but with a still, stunned horror.

* * * * *

He lifted his eyes to Bell.

"I have no control over them," he said quietly. "My hands are useless
to me, Senor Bell. I wonder if you will be good enough to assist me to
my cabin."

Again that deadly pallor flashed across his face. Bell caught at his
arm.

"What is the matter?" he demanded anxiously. "Of course I'll help
you."

Ortiz smiled very faintly.

"If any airplane arrives in time," he said steadily, "something may be
done. But you have rid me of even that hope. I have been poisoned,
Senor Bell."

"But the ship's doctor...."

Ortiz, walking rather stiffly beside Bell, shrugged.

"He can do nothing. Will you be good enough to open this door for me?
And"--his voice was hoarse for an instant--"assist me to put my hands
in my pockets. I cannot. But I would not like them to be seen."

Bill took hold of the writhing fingers. He saw sweat standing out upon
Ortiz's forehead. And the fingers closed savagely upon Bell's hands,
tearing at them. Ortiz looked at him with a ghastly supplication.

"Now," he said with difficulty, "if you will open the door, Senor
Bell...."

Bell slid the door aside. They went in together. People were making
the best of boresome weather within, frankly yawning, most of them.
But the card-room would be full, and the smoking-room steward would be
busy.

"My cabin is upon the next deck below," said Ortiz through stiff lips.
"We--we will descend the stairs."

* * * * *

Bell went with him, his face expressionless.

"