“Encore!” thundered the doctor. “La Révolution! Videz toutes! Bottoms up.”
“Goodness!” cried Mrs. Mink. “How they look!” and ran into the cabin, followed by Norah, shrieking.
Under the spell of Dr. Ulswater's powerful drops the twenty negroes stared, grunted, fell back, twitching, kicking, astonished, breathing in snorts. Glass and china crashed on the deck. One of them staggered up with a yell and dropped again. One rolled half across the flowered carpet. The Commodore struggled for an instant with his tasselled sword, and subsided, muttering. The long rows of limp and ragged men, of black faces and open mouths, were ghastly and still. A gun was discharged on the war-ship.
“Tie them up!” cried Mrs. Mink from the cabin.
Dr. Ulswater turned about, beaming at me. “A remarkable opiate, that, Kit! I always said so,” and pulled out his notebook, and made notes, aloud: “On two of the subjects evidently painful in action—ten to twenty seconds—per man three grains—muscular contractions, followed by total relaxation and coma—in case observed dissolved in solution of coffee—Remarkable!”
“Tie them up!” cried Mrs. Mink again.
Captain Jansen, with his man, came back and reported that his cases had been disorderly. One of them had discharged his gun and fallen down the gangway.
We carried them, one by one, to the boats and tugged back and forth across a hot and heaving stretch of water, till they were all landed. Some of them were stirring and made a noise.
When the last boat-load was gone, Dr. Ulswater and I came back under the awning. Norah was washing dishes in the cabin, Mrs. Mink sweeping the deck with a broom. The guns lay along the scuppers. She stopped, and lifted a troubled face to Dr. Ulswater.
“Will it do them any harm?”