“But at eight o’clock two men were sent aloft to shake out the fore-royal.  They reached the yard almost simultaneously, and were just stepping on to the foot-ropes when one of them gave a shout; then the pair came sliding down a backstay, with faces as white as tallow.  As soon as they reached the deck, they took the officer of the watch forward, and, standing on the heel of the bowsprit, pointed aloft.  Several of the hands, including Foucault and Parratt, had followed, and all looked up; and there they saw the body of Nilsson, hanging on the front of the fore-topgallant sail.  He was dangling at the end of a gasket, and bouncing up and down on the taut belly of the sail as the ship rose and fell to the send of the sea.

“The two survivors were now in some doubt about having anything further to do with the pearl.  But the great value of the jewel, and the consideration that it was now to be divided between two instead of four, tempted them.  They abstracted it from Nilsson’s chest, and then, as they could not come to an agreement in any other way, they decided to settle who should take charge of it by tossing a coin.  The coin was accordingly spun, and the pearl went to Foucault’s chest.

“From this moment Foucault lived in a state of continual apprehension.  When on deck, his eyes were for ever wandering towards the companion hatch, and during his watch below, when not asleep, he would sit moodily on his chest, lost in gloomy reflection.  But a fortnight passed, then three weeks, and still nothing happened.  Land was sighted, the Straits of Gibraltar passed, and the end of the voyage was but a matter of days.  And still the dreaded mandarin made no sign.

“At length the ship was within twenty-four hours of Marseilles, to which port a large part of the cargo was consigned.  Active preparations were being made for entering the port, and among other things the shore tackle was being overhauled.  A share in this latter work fell to Foucault and Parratt, and about the middle of the second dog-watch—­seven o’clock in the evening—­they were sitting on the deck working an eye-splice in the end of a large rope.  Suddenly Foucault, who was facing forward, saw his companion turn pale and stare aft with an expression of terror.  He immediately turned and looked over his shoulder to see what Parratt was staring at.  It was the mandarin, standing by the companion, gravely watching them; and as Foucault turned and met his gaze, the Chinaman beckoned and went below.

“For the rest of that day Parratt kept close to his terrified comrade, and during their watch below he endeavoured to remain awake, that he might keep his friend in view.  Nothing happened through the night, and the following morning, when they came on deck for the forenoon watch, their port was well in sight.  The two men now separated for the first time, Parratt going aft to take his trick at the wheel, and Foucault being set to help in getting ready the ground tackle.