he vessel abandoned?" she asked. "What has happened? Do you
know?"

"Yes; the story is plain enough," I explained, deeming it best to tell
the whole truth. "This is a slaver, the _Santa Marie_, plying between
Cuba and the African coast. Sam, the negro who came aboard with me,
served as cook on board for one voyage. I do not know why they should
be in these waters--driven north by a storm likely--but cholera was
the trouble. The crew are all overboard, or dead."

"Overboard, or dead? You found them dead--the slaves also?"

"No; there were no slaves; the hold was clear. We found a few dead
men, the last of the crew to survive. One man was lying beside the
wheel; he had lashed it to its course before he died; and the Captain
was in the cabin."

"And he was dead?"

"Yes, a tall, lean Spaniard; Sam said his name was Paradilla. We found
five altogether, and flung their bodies over the side except two
sailors in the forecastle."

Her eyes evidenced her horror, her lips barely able to speak.

"They--they died of cholera? All of them? There was no one left alive
on board?"

"Not even a dog. It was a tragedy of the sea, of which we will never
know all the truth. I have the log here in my pocket all written out
until three days ago--perhaps that was when the Captain died. But can
you imagine anything more grim, more horrible, than this schooner,
with all sails set, standing on her course with a dead man at the
wheel?"

"And--and other dead men in cabin and forecastle!" her voice broke and
her hands covered her eyes. "O Geoffry, must we stay aboard? The
thought is terrible; besides, you said it was cholera."

"There is nothing we need fear," I insisted firmly, clasping the
upraised hands and meeting her eyes frankly, "and I rely upon you to
help me control the men. They are sailors filled with superstition,
and will look to us for leadership. Please do not fail me. You have
already passed through too much to be frightened at a shadow. This is
a staunch vessel, provisioned and fit for any sea. We are far safer
here than in the boat; it is as if God had sent us deliverance."

"Yet we face disease--cholera?" "I do not hold that a peril--not to
us, if we use precautions. That is an ever-present sea danger, and I
have read every book treating of the disease. So long as we are well
fed and keep in the fresh air, we are not liable to suffer. The dead
are overboard and every hatch closed. I will have the deck scoured
from e