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"But surely," I protested, "it will not be difficult to throw overboard a few hundred bales of cotton; two or three days at most will suffice for that." "Likely enough," he replied, "when the business is once begun; but you must remember, Mr. Kazallon, that the very heart of the cargo is still smoldering, and that it will still be several days before anyone will be able to venture into the hold.
Kazallon," M. Letourneur began, in a low voice, "Andre is dying of hunger; he is growing weaker and weaker, and oh! I cannot, will not, see him die!" He spoke passionately, almost fiercely, and I fully under- stood his feelings. Taking his hand, I tried to reassure him. "We will not despair yet," I said; "perhaps some pass- ing ship "
There is not one of us who has left the tent all night. Why suspect us?" "Now just look here, Mr. Kazallon," said the boatswain, in a voice which he was endeavouring to calm down into moderation, "we are not accusing you of anything; we know well enough you, and all the rest of you, had a right to your shares as much as anybody; but that isn't it. It's all gone somewhere, every bit."
Unless the cotton is perfectly dry when it is shipped, its confinement in a damp or ill-ventilated hold will sometimes cause it to ignite; and I have no doubt it is this that has brought about our misfortune." "But after all," I said, "the cause matters very little. Is there no remedy? Is there nothing to be done?" "Nothing, Mr. Kazallon," he said.
"Think; why, they think just the same as I do," replied the mate; "but if the captain chooses to take the ship to China we should obey his orders." "But surely," I exclaimed, "there must be some limit to your obedience! Suppose the man is actually mad, what then?" "If he should be mad enough, Mr. Kazallon, to bring the vessel into any real danger, I shall know what to do."
Some time afterwards, when I was alone with him, M. Letourneur whispered in my ear, "Mr. Kazallon, I commend my boy to your care, and mark you, he must never know " His voice was choked with tears, and he could not finish his sentence.
"You are no doubt aware, Mr. Kazallon, that these volcanic islands sometimes have a very transitory existence. Not impossibly, by the time it gets marked upon the maps it may no longer be here." "Never mind, my boy," answered his father, "it is better to give warning of a danger that does not exist than overlook one that does.
He is like his mother, who died at his birth." "He is full of reverence and love for you, sir," I re- marked. "Dear boy!" muttered the father half to himself. "Ah, Mr. Kazallon," he continued, "you do not know what it is to a father to have a son a cripple, beyond hope of cure." "M. Letourneur," I answered, "you take more than your share of the affliction which has fallen upon you and your son.
Kazallon," he exclaimed, "if you only knew the bitterness of the agony I feel at seeing this fine vessel doomed to be devoured by flames, and at being so powerless to save her." Then quickly recovering himself, he continued, "But I am forgetting myself; you, if no other, must know what I am suffering. It is all over now," he said more cheerfully. "Is our condition quite desperate?" I asked.
Do what we will, the deck gets hotter and hotter, and unless it were kept constantly wet, it would be unbearable to the feet. But I am glad, Mr. Kazallon," he added; "that you have made the discovery. It is better that you should know it."
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