“Yes?”

“Sure thing.  They are bleeding Bloodgood and Slush.  Bloodgood thinks he’s pretty sharp, and I have not much sympathy for him; but I am sorry for poor little Slush.  He should have paid attention to some of his signs and omens.  He knew something disastrous would happen during this voyage, and I rather think it will happen to him.”

Then Diamond thumped the wall again, crying: 

“Stop that business in there!  Mr. Slush, you are playing cards with crooks—­you are being robbed!  Get out of that game as soon as you can!”

There was a sudden silence in the adjoining room, and then M. Rouen Montfort was heard to utter an exclamation in French, following which he cried: 

“I see you to-morrow, saire!  I make you swallow ze lie!”

“You may see me any time you like!” Diamond flung back.

CHAPTER XI.

The horrors of the hold.

To the surprise of the four youths, M. Montfort utterly ignored them on the following day, instead of seeking “trouble,” as had been anticipated.

“Well,” said Jack, in disgust, “he has less courage than I thought.  He is just a common boasting Frenchman.”

“He is not a common Frenchman.” declared Frank.  “I believe he is a rascal of more than common calibre.”

“But he lacks nerve, and I have nothing but contempt for him,” said the Virginian.  “I didn’t know but he would challenge me to a duel.”

“What if he had?”

“What if he had?” hissed the hot-blooded Southern youth.  “I’d fought him at the drop of the hat!”

“That’s all right, but you know most Frenchmen fight well in a duel.”

“I don’t know anything of the kind.  They are expert fencers, but I notice it is mighty seldom one of them is killed in a duel.  They sometimes draw a drop of blood, and then they consider that ’honor is satisfied,’ and that ends it.”

It was midway in the forenoon that Frank met Mr. Slush on deck.  The little man was looking more doleful and dejected than ever, if possible.

“The—­ah—­the moon showed rather yellow last night,” he said.  “That is a—­a sure sign of disaster.”

“Well,” said Merry, with a smile, “I think the disaster will befall you, sir, if you do not steer clear of the crowd you were in last night.”

Mr. Slush looked surprised.

“Might I—­ah—­inquire your meaning?” he faltered.

“I mean that you are playing poker with card-sharps, and they mean to rob you,” answered Frank, plainly.

“I—­I wonder how you—­er—­know so much,” said the little man, with something like faint sarcasm, as Frank fancied.

“It makes little difference how I know it, but I am telling you the truth.  I am warning you for your good, sir.”

“Er—­ahem!  Thank you—­very much.”

Mr. Slush walked away.