"Where is he?" demanded the count; but, before his tongue had formed the words, the voice of the fat man came to him. He came along, the centre of a swaying body of sailors, who held him.
"For God's sake, silence him!" said the Brazilian hoarsely. "Don't you hear——?"
"Dead! you'll all be dead!" yelled Grayson. He was screaming at the top of his voice in English. "A time-fuse in your magazine! whilst they get away with the money!"
At any moment he might remember that the Brazilians who held him could not understand a word he said.
Poltavo gave an order, and the struggling man was flung to the deck.
"Murder!" he screamed. "Hyatt, and the other man! And poor Morson and Kohr. I see the blood on his pillow! and a time-fuse in the magazine——"
Baggin thrust a handkerchief in his mouth.
"Chloroform," he said in Spanish. "Our friend has been drinking."
In a few seconds, the captain was back with a bottle of colourless liquid, and a saturated handkerchief was pressed over the struggling man's mouth.
He was silent at last, and, at a word from their captain, the men who held him released their hold, and went forward to their quarters. The captain discreetly followed them.