saloon, and did for his broken head that
which our elementary knowledge of surgery permitted us.

As the day brought light upon the rising sea, I looked to the far
horizon, but the rolling crests of an empty waste met my gaze. Again we
were alone. The night's work had lost us the welcome company.

CHAPTER XI.

THE SHIP IN THE BLACK CLOAK.

The day that broke was glorious enough for Nature's making, but sad
upon our ship, in that the folly of eight poor fellows should have cost
the life of two, with three more lying near to death in the fo'castle.
The sea had risen a good deal when we got under steam again, and clouds
scudded over the sun; but we set stay-sails and jibs, and made a fine
pace towards the shores of America. It was near noon when we had buried
the two stokers shot by the skipper, and more on in the afternoon
before the decks were made straight, and the traces of the scuffle
quite obliterated. But Paolo lay all day in a delirium, and Mary went
in and out, bearing a gentle hand to the wounded, who alternately cried
with the pain of it, and begged grace for their insanity. The second
officer's case was worse than theirs, and I thought at noon that the
total of the dead would have been three; for he raved incessantly,
crying "Ice, Ice!" almost with every breath, while we had all
difficulty possible to hold him in his bunk. His words I could not get
the meaning of; but I had them later, and in circumstances I had never
looked for.

After the hour of lunch the skipper called Roderick and me into his
cabin, and there he discussed the position with us.

"One thing is clear," he said; "you've brought me on more than a
pleasure trip, and, while I don't complain, it will be necessary at New
York for me to know something more--or, maybe to leave this ship. Last
night's work must be made plain, of course; and this second officer of
yours must stand to his trial. The men I would willingly let go, for
they're no more than lubberly fools whose heads have been turned. But
one thing I now make bold to claim--I take this yacht straight from
here to Sandy Hook; and we poke our noses into no business on the way."

"Of course," said Roderick somewhat sarcastically, "you've every right
to do what you like with my ship; but I seem to remember having engaged
you to obey my orders."

"Fair orders and plain sailing," replied Captain York, bringing his
fist down on the table with emphasis; "not running after war-ship