certina the night before. Not a man or boy who had taken the coffee had escaped the deadly fate prepared for them by this remorseless and cold-blooded monster.
"Get up, Dennis, for the ship is ours, and we must not lose any time in working her. Call the two women, for they must help also."
It was nine o'clock, and the doctor had been for a walk round. He was a little more ghastly than usual, for even an Anarchist can hardly face such treacherous and ice-cold murder without blanching a little. He was in a brutal mood, for he had quaffed off a tumbler of brandy as if it had been water as he passed the pantry, where the spirits were kept, and felt impatient at the slowness of his comrade in dressing.
"Hurry up, damn it, man, or the devil only knows where the ship may get to while you moon there. Get up to the wheel without more delay than you can help, and I will rouse the women myself."
He strode out of the cabin which he and Dennis shared, and, dashing open the door of the one occupied by the two guilty traitoresses, seized them rudely by their naked arms and shook them roughly.
"Get up—get up—you are wanted on deck!" he shouted in their startled ears, as they both sprang up and looked at his bloodshot eyes in amazement and considerable terror.
"What is it, doctor?"
"The ship is ours, and the men who were embracing those pretty carcases are now dead meat. Come and help to clear the deck," he cried savagely and sardonically, as he left them shuddering at the coarseness of his words; he had forgotten his usual veneer of politeness on this morning.
When he reached the poop he saw Dennis in his shirt
