stern of that boat yonder. When did you
serve aboard here?"

"Three years back, sah, frum Habana to der African coast; Ah didn't
want no more dat sorter sailorin'."

"But what could have happened? The boats are all in place, but no
crew, I never saw anything like it at sea."

Schmitt's hand fell heavily on my sleeve and I glanced aside into his
stolid face.

"Der's a feller on ther gratin' amidships, Captain," he said pointing
aft. "But I just bet I know vat wus der trouble."

"What man?"

"Cholera," he whispered, "ve haf boarded a death ship."

CHAPTER XXVII

ON BOARD THE SLAVER

The terror of the two men as this thought dawned upon them in all its
horror was apparent enough, and, in truth, I shared with them a vivid
sense of our desperate situation. Nothing, not even fire was more to
be dreaded than a visitation of this awful nature on shipboard. I had
heard tales to chill the blood, of whole ships' crews stricken and
dying like flies. Yet I dare not hesitate, or permit those under my
command to flee in terror. Charnal ship though this might be, the
danger to us was not so great, if we only remained in the open air,
and used proper precaution in putting the dead overboard. We were in
health, well nourished, and our stay aboard would be a short one. Even
if the schooner was a floating sepulcher, it was safer by far than the
cockleshell towing alongside.

"Let's find out the truth first, men," I said quietly. "Stay here if
you want to while I go aft; only hold your tongues. There is no use
giving up until we know what the danger is. Will you come with me, or
remain where you are?"

The two exchanged glances, and then their eyes ranged along the
unoccupied deck. I confess it was eery enough--the silence, the
desolate vista, the wind-filled sails above, the schooner flying
through the water as though guided by spectral hands, and that single
motionless figure crouched on the grating amidships. It made my own
nerves throb, and caused me to clinch my teeth, Sam turned his head,
his frightened eyes seeking the scuttle leading into the forecastle.
He was more frightened to remain where he was, than accompany me, but
when he endeavored to say so, his lips refused to utter any sound. The
terror in his eyes caused me to laugh, and my own courage came back
with a rush.

"Afraid of dead men, are you? Then we'll face them together, my lads,
and have it over with. Come on, now, both of you. Buckle up; there