Dorothy took a step forward, and confronted them, her cheeks flushed.

“You are sailors,” she said, speaking swiftly, “and ought not to be afraid if a girl isn’t.  It is true this vessel was ravaged by cholera, and the crew died; but the bodies have been flung overboard—­Captain Carlyle risked his life to do that, before he asked us aboard.  Now there is no danger, so long as we remain on deck.  I have no fear.”

The Swede shook his head, grumbling something, but before the revolt could spread, Watkins broke in.

“An’ that’s right, miss.  I wus on the Bombay Castle when she took cholera, an’ we hed twenty-one days of it beatin’ agin head winds off the Cape.  We lost sixteen o’ the crew, but not a man among us who stayed on deck got sick.  Anyhow these blokes are goin’ ter try their luck aboard yere, er else swim fer it.”

He grinned cheerfully letting slip the end of the painter, the released quarter-boat gliding gently away astern, the width of water constantly increasing, the light craft wallowing in the waves.

“Now bullies, jump fer it if yer want ter go.  Why don’t yer try it Ole?  You are so keen about getting away, you ought not to mind a little water.  So ye prefer to stay along with the rest of us.  All right then, my hearties, let’s hunt up something to work with and scrub this deck.  That’s the way to clean out cholera.”

He led the way and they followed him, grumbling and cursing, but obedient.  I added a word of encouragement, and in a few minutes the whole gang was busily engaged in clearing up the mess forward, making use of whatever came to hand, their first fears evidently forgotten in action.  Watkins kept after them like a slave driver.

“That’s the style; throw all the litter overboard.  Bend your back, Pierre; now Ole, take hold here.  What the hell are you men loafing for?  Now, heave altogether.”

I glanced astern, catching a fleeting glimpse beneath the main boom, of the disappearing quarter-boat, bobbing up and down in the distance; then my eyes sought the face of the girl.  She met my gaze with a smile.

“They are all right now, are they not?” she asked.

“Yes, as long as they can be kept busy, and I will see to that.  Let’s go aft, and get out of this mess.  I want to plan our voyage.”

It was not difficult finding plenty for the lads to do, making the neglected schooner shipshape, and adjusting the spread of canvas aloft to the new course I decided upon.  Fortunately we had men enough to manipulate the sails, real seamen, able to work swiftly.  Sam started a fire in the galley, and prepared a hot meal, singing as he worked, and before noon I had as cheerful a ship’s crew forward as any man could possibly ask for.  The weather kept pleasant, but with a heavy wind blowing, compelling us to take a reef in the canvas, but the schooner was an excellent sea boat, and all alike felt the exhilaration of rapid