"Dolphins at play," cried the doctor hoarsely; "that is all."
They seemed to be dancing as merrily upon that red track as if they were dolphins gambolling and coming nearer as the sun went lower down and the lustre grew fainter; it was only a half disc now which hovered amongst the fumes above the ocean.
"That's no dolphins' fins, but the decomposed carcases of dead men, swollen up to three times their bulk, and light as balloons with the gases inside," cried the stolid Dennis.
"By God! there is the captain with his grey hair and beard, with the first mate alongside of him, in front of the others."
"Oh, horrible—horrible!" cried the baroness, sinking down beside her friend and covering her eyes.
"What is there horrible about the sight of a few dead bodies floating on the water?" snarled the doctor viciously, as he kept his red glare upon those swollen figures. "You have looked on many a dead man since you saw your father guillotined."
He seemed to be driven mad with rage, however, for the froth gathered also about his lips as he peered over the ship's side and looked upon his victims.
All at once Dennis sprang up with a fearful oath.
"Cuss me, what am I thinking of, to stand here watching these dummies, when we should be working. Do you not see the furrow in their wake urging them onward. There's a squall coming, with eagle speed, too, this way."
He sprang as he spoke to the wheel and, slashing at the rope which held it in its place, released it, then taking the spokes in his strong grasp he gave
