on, but said nothing to bring forth an outbreak from Andrews. I wondered
why he did not try to get his men with him and clap the fellow in irons.
There was every reason to believe they would have obeyed him at first,
but he hesitated for some religious purpose better known to himself,
until the fellow had obtained such a sway over the crew that it was now
doubtful if it could be done without an open fight between them and the
men he had to back him.

Sackett announced to me that we had made no westing to speak of, on
account of the ship now being in the southeasterly set of the Agullas
current. We had drifted along with the topsail and two staysails drawing
from the main, and a sort of trysail set from a preventer-stay leading
aft. In spite of this amount of canvas the breeze had been so light that
the sunken ship had not made a mile in two hours. It was disheartening,
but if we could only get at the leak and stop some of the water from
flowing into her, we might get her up a bit and then she would move
faster. Her hatch-combings were high, and the sea had not washed clear
over them yet, while her high strakes would be all the tighter, now that
they had been under water for days. This seemed to be a very fair
argument, but, while the skipper talked, my eyes were upon the glass case
at the end of the cabin, where a row of bottles showed through the front
and above the wooden frames. They contained the drugs usually carried
aboard ship, and while the skipper talked to me I wondered if there were
any poisons in that case which would be of service to Andrews. When we
were through, the captain and I left the cabin, for there had been no
watches at meals; all had eaten together in order to facilitate matters
of cooking, the men only eating at different times from the officers.

As we passed up the after-companionway, I looked into the case and
endeavored to interest the skipper in drugs for the men in case of
sickness. He showed me a bottle of arnica, one of squibbs, another of
peppermint, and many other drugs used as simple remedies. At the end of a
long row was one containing a white powder, unlabelled. I picked it up
and opened the vial, thinking to taste it to see if it was quinine. Its
weight, however, made me certain this could not be, and I was just about
to put a bit on my tongue when Sackett stopped me.

"It's bichloride of mercury. Don't taste it," said he.

I was not much of a chemist; for a mate's knowledge of t