."

"Sentry, here's a man sick."

But the sentry knew his duty better than to reply. He was a young
soldier, but he had been well informed of the artfulness of convict
stratagems; and, moreover, Captain Vickers had carefully apprised
him "that by the King's Regulations, he was forbidden to reply to any
question or communication addressed to him by a convict, but, in the
event of being addressed, was to call the non-commissioned officer on
duty." Now, though he was within easy hailing distance of the guard
on the quarter-deck, he felt a natural disinclination to disturb those
gentlemen merely for the sake of a sick convict, and knowing that, in
a few minutes, the third relief would come on duty, he decided to wait
until then.

In the meantime the tailor grew worse, and began to moan dismally.

"Here! 'ullo!" called out his supporter, in dismay. "Hold up 'ere! Wot's
wrong with yer? Don't come the drops 'ere. Pass him down, some of yer,"
and the wretch was hustled down to the doorway.

"Vater!" he whispered, beating feebly with his hand on the thick oak.

"Get us a drink, mister, for Gord's sake!"

But the prudent sentry answered never a word, until the ship's bell
warned him of the approach of the relief guard; and then honest old
Pine, coming with anxious face to inquire after his charge, received
the intelligence that there was another prisoner sick. He had the door
unlocked and the tailor outside in an instant. One look at the flushed,
anxious face was enough.

"Who's that moaning in there?" he asked.

It was the man who had tried to call for the sentry an hour back, and
Pine had him out also; convictism beginning to wonder a little.

"Take 'em both aft to the hospital," he said; "and, Jenkins, if there
are any more men taken sick, let them pass the word for me at once. I
shall be on deck."

The guard stared in each other's faces, with some alarm, but said
nothing, thinking more of the burning ship, which now flamed furiously
across the placid water, than of peril nearer home; but as Pine went up
the hatchway he met Blunt.

"We've got the fever aboard!"

"Good God! Do you mean it, Pine?"

Pine shook his grizzled head sorrowfully.

"It's this cursed calm that's done it; though I expected it all along,
with the ship crammed as she is. When I was in the Hecuba--"

"Who is it?"

Pine laughed a half-pitying, half-angry laugh.

"A convict, of course. Who else should it be? They are reeking like
bulloc