l destiny had decreed that from
that slumber he was never more to awaken!

This destiny was now being shaped out for him; and by the two
individuals who were regarding him from the bottom of the mast.

"He's sound asleep," whispered one of them to the other. "You hear that
snore? _Parbleu_! only a hog could counterfeit that."

"Sound as a top!" asserted the other.

"_C'est bon_!" whispered the first speaker, with a significant shrug of
the shoulders. "If we manage matters smartly, he need never wake again.
What say you, comrade?"

"I agree to anything you may propose," assented the other. "What is
it?"

"There need be no noise about it. A single blow will be sufficient,--if
given in the right place. With the blade of a knife through his heart,
he'll not make three kicks. He'll never know it till he's in the next
world. _Peste_! I could almost envy him such an easy way of getting
out of this!"

"You think it might be done without making a noise?"

"Easy as falling overboard. One could hold something over his mouth, to
keep his tongue quiet; while the other--You know what I mean?"

The horrid act to be performed by the other was left unspoken,--even in
those confidential whisperings.

"But," replied the confederate, objectingly, "suppose the thing done,--
how about matters in the morning? They'd know who did it. Leastwise,
their suspicions would fall upon us,--upon you to a certainty, after
what's happened. You haven't thought of that?"

"Haven't I? But I have, _mon ami_!"

"Well; and what?"

"First place. They're not in the mind to be particular,--none of
them,--so long as they get something to eat. Secondly; if they should
kick up a row, our party is the strongest; and I don't care what comes
of it. We may as well all die at once, as die by bits."

"That's true enough."

"But there's no fear of any trouble from the others. I've got an idea
that'll prevent that. To save appearances, he can commit suicide."

"What do you mean?"

"Bah! _camarade_! how dull you are. The fog has got into your skull.
Don't you know the _Irlandais_ has got a knife, and a sharp one.
_Peste_! I know it. Well,--perhaps it can be stolen from him. If so,
it can also be found sticking in the wound that will deprive him of
life. Now do you comprehend me?"

"I do,--I do!"

"First, to steal the knife. Go you: I daren't: it would look suspicious
for me to be seen near him,--that is, if he should wake up.