mming of the demonstration, and it passed without
comment, as a matter of course in the premises, that he should count as
he did--ignoring that other who sat alone at the stern of the raft, the
black Canaque, the fourth man.

Perroquet had been outmaneuvered, but he listened sullenly while for
the hundredth time Dubosc recited his easy and definite plan for their
rescue, as arranged with his secret correspondents.

"That sounds very well," observed The Parrot, at last. "But what if
these jokers only mock themselves of you? What if they have counted it
good riddance to let you rot here? And us? Sacred name, that would be a
famous jest! To let us wait for a ship and they have no ship!"

"Perhaps the doctor knows better than we how sure a source he counts
upon," suggested Fenayrou slyly.

"That is so," said Dubosc, with great good humor. "My faith, it would
not be well for them to fail me. Figure to yourselves that there is a
safety vault in Paris full of papers to be opened at my death. Certain
friends of mine could hardly afford to have some little confessions
published that would be found there.... Such a tale as this, for
instance--"

And to amuse them he told an indecent anecdote of high life, true or
fictitious, it mattered nothing, so he could make Fenayrou's eyes
glitter and The Parrot growl in wonder. Therein lay his means of
ascendancy over such men, the knack of eloquence and vision. Harried,
worn, oppressed by fears that he could sense so much more sharply than
they, he must expend himself now in vulgar marvels to distract these
ruder minds. He succeeded so far that when the wind fell at sunset they
were almost cheerful, ready to believe that the morning would bring
relief. They dined on dry biscuit and another thimbleful of water apiece
and took watch by amiable agreement. And through that long, clear night
of stars, whenever the one of the three who lay awake between his
comrades chanced to look aft, he could see the vague blot of another
figure--the naked Canaque, who slumbered there apart....

It was an evil dawning. Fenayrou, on the morning trick, was aroused by
a foot as hard as a hoof, and started up at Perroquet's wrathful face,
with the doctor's graver glance behind.

"Idler! Good-for-nothing! Will you wake at least before I smash your
ribs? Name of God, here is a way to stand watch!"

"Keep off!" cried Penayrou wildly. "Keep off. Don't touch me!"

"Eh, and why not, fool? Do you know that the