Europe that you may have to
tell."

As he clambered up the side again the boat pushed off, and the stalwart
native crew sent her, now she was lightened of her load of provisions,
skimming through the water.

When the American returned to the quarter-deck, Ryan introduced to
him "Mr. Foster, my second mate," and added that in addition to the
misfortune of losing twelve of his crew when coming through the Paumotu
Group, his chief officer had accidentally shot himself, and shattered
his collar-bone.

"Indeed!" said Frewen, with an air of concern, instantly surmising that
the injured man was either Almanza or the Chileno sailor whom Villari
had shot. "Is he getting on all right?"

"Not at all well--and unfortunately I do not know anything about a
fractured collar-bone."

Frewen replied, with perfect truth, that he had seen several broken
collar-bones. Perhaps he might be of assistance.

"Captain Ryan" thanked him, and said he would at once go down, see how
the injured man was getting on, and would send for him in ten minutes or
so. Meanwhile would Mr. Frewen join Mr. Foster in a glass of wine.

The young whaling officer sat down near the skylight, and as the
dark-faced, dirty-looking ruffian seated opposite passed him, with an
amiable grin, a decanter of excellent sherry, wondered which of the two
Levantines was the greater cut-throat of the two. Ryan, as he called
himself, was somewhat of a dandy. He did not wear ear-rings; and
Villari's clothes--which fitted him very well--made him look as if he
had been used to dress well all his life. Foster, on the other hand, who
was arrayed in poor Marston's garments, was the typical Greek seaman one
might meet any day in almost any seaport town of importance. He was
a fairly tall man, well and powerfully built, but his hawk-like and
truculent visage inspired the American with a deeper aversion than
that with which he regarded Ryan--who, however, was in reality the more
tigerish-natured of the two.

As they sat talking, Frewen happened to look along the deck for'ard, and
caught sight of a seaman with the lower part of his face bandaged.
He was standing at the galley door talking to some one inside, but
happening to see the American looking at him, he hurriedly slipped round
the for'ard end of the galley out of sight.

"Ah," thought Frewen, "that is the other fellow that Villari put out of
action--the man below is Almansa."

His surmise he found was correct, for at the en