“Am I to remain here, Mr. Carlyle?” “Yes for a few moments; there is no danger.  You stay also, Watkins; let Schmitt and Sam come with me.”

I helped them clamber up and then lifted my body onto the rail, from which position I had a clear view of the forward deck.  It was unexpressibly dirty, yet otherwise shipshape enough, ropes coiled and the forward hatch tightly closed.  Nothing human greeted me, and conscious of a strange feeling of horror, I slipped over onto the deck.  The next moment the negro and Dutchman joined me, the former staring about wildly, the whites of his eyes revealing his terror.

“My Gawd, sah,” he ejaculated.  “Ah done know dis boat—­it’s shore de Santa Marie.  “Ah’s cooked in dat galley.  What’s done happened ter her, sah?”

“You know the schooner?  Are you sure, Sam?  What was she—­a pirate?”

“No, sah; a slaver, sah,” he sniffed the air.  “Ah kin smell dem niggers right now, sah.  Ah, suah reckon dars a bunch o’ ded ones under dem hatches right dis minute—­you white men smell dat odor?”

“I certainly smell something unpleasant enough.  This is the Santa Marie; the name is on the 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?”