I found the after-deck entirely deserted, and there was no one visible on the bridge.  Two or three sailors—­the anchor watch—­were forward, engaged in some service about the capstan, and a fellow was swabbing the deck amidship.  I heard Broussard’s voice at a distance, but could not locate him.  However, no one paid the slightest attention to me, as I stood smoking, and gazing curiously around.  Everything appeared peaceful enough.  We were lying in a small harbor, within a hundred feet of the shore, completely concealed on the sea side, by a thick forest growth lining the higher ridge, of what appeared a narrow island.  The Sea Gull’s fires were banked, only a thin vapor arising from the stack which instantly disappeared.  In the opposite direction there was a wide expanse of water, quiet as a mill-pond in spite of a fresh breeze, revealing in the distance the faint blue blur of a far-off coast line.  Nothing broke the vista except the white sails of two sloops, evidently fishing boats, far off on the horizon.  It was an ideal spot in which to lie—­to quietly hide in during the hours of daylight, probably never approached but by stray fishermen.  Ashore everything appeared primitive and uninhabited, except for one of the Sea Gull’s small boats beached directly opposite, the crew hidden in the brush.

I walked leisurely around the cabin transom, peering into the boat swung astern, so as to better familiarize myself with its equipment, meanwhile keeping a wary eye on the cabin below, where the negro was clearing the table, and then, satisfied I had everything photographed upon the mind, sauntered forward toward the bridge, aiming to exchange greetings with the Creole mate.  Broussard was not a man to expect favors from, and I had hated him with the first glimpse of his face, yet he possessed his racial characteristic of impulsive speech, and was thus far more approachable than the gruff German first officer.  Perhaps, if he believed me an accomplice, he might be led to talk, and even be induced to let drop some hint which would later prove useful.  I met him just forward of the chart-house, and the manner in which he eyed me was immediate proof that he remained uninformed as to my new status on board.

“How you com’ on ze deck, M’sieur?” he asked, his eyes threatening.  “By Gar, I thought you down below, locked in all tight,” and he waved an expressive hand aft.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE NEW PERIL

I laughed, but without paying him the compliment of looking at him.

“I ’ve changed allegiance, that’s all, Broussard.  It’s money which makes the mare go with all of us, eh?  The Captain turned me loose last night.”

“You wif us?  You go volunter?”

“Well, something like that.  I ’m to be drill-master, or general, for those tattered battalions down in the jungles.  What do you think of the job?”