CHAPTER XVII
For two more days the barque lay becalmed off the desert island, but not one of the crew ventured on land again. The two Spaniards shrunk with a superstitious terror from further contact with that accursed shore—that costa maldita, as they invariably spoke of it.
Carew's experiences on Trinidad produced an ineffaceable impression on his mind. His melancholy deepened into a dull despair. He passed most of the day alone in his cabin, avoiding as much as possible even the sight of his companions. By means of ever-increasing doses of laudanum, the miserable man stupefied his brain into a lethargic condition, which was, however, frequently broken by frightful dreams when he was asleep, and by nervous seizures of acute and causeless terrors when he was awake.
Baptiste, observing these symptoms, began to fear for Carew's reason, and tried in various ways to rouse him, but in vain.
At last one morning a fresh south-east wind sprang up. Carew did not even seem to notice the change, and he gave no orders to get under way. So Baptiste approached him—
"The sooner we have the anchor up and are off the better, captain."
Carew assented in an apathetic way, and assisted the men in weighing the anchor and setting the sails; but he worked with a sullen silence, making no suggestions, leaving everything to Baptiste.
After paying the vessel off before the wind with the foretopmast staysail, they set the fore and main topsails, an amount of canvas which the prudent mate considered sufficient for a barque so undermanned.
As soon as the last yard had been squared, and there was no more for him to do, Carew again went into his cabin.