For the remainder of the day I saw nothing of Pharos. He had shut himself up in his cabin with only the monkey for company. Towards the end of the afternoon, however, he sent for the captain, and they remained closeted together for a quarter of an hour. When the latter appeared again, it was with an unusually white face. He passed me on the companion-ladder, and from the light I saw in his eyes I surmised that Pharos had been treating him to a sample of his ill-humour, and that he had come out of it considerably scared. Once more I partook of the evening meal alone, and, as I was by this time not only thoroughly tired of my own company, but worn out with anxiety and continual brooding upon one subject, I sought my couch at an early hour. My dreams that night were far from good. The recollection of that terrible afternoon in Hamburg, when Valerie had been taken ill, and Pharos had so unexpectedly appeared in time to save her, was sufficient to wake me up in a cold sweat of fear. When I had somewhat recovered, I became aware that someone was knocking on my cabin door. To my surprise it proved to be the captain.
"What is the matter?" I inquired, as he entered. "What brings you here?"
"I have come to you for your advice," he said nervously, as he fidgeted with his cap. "I can tell you we're in a bad way aboard this ship."
"Why, what has happened?" I inquired, sitting up and staring at his white face. "Have we met with an accident?"
"We have," he answered, "and a bad one. A worse could scarcely have befallen us." Then, sinking his voice to a whisper, he added, "The plague has broken out aboard!"
"The plague!" I cried, in consternation. "Do you mean it? For Heaven's sake, man, be sure you are not making a mistake before you say such a thing!"
"I only wish I were not sure," he replied. "Unfortunately there is no getting away from the fact. The plague's upon us, sure enough, and, what's worse, I'm afraid it's come to stay."
"How many cases are there?" I asked, "and when did you discover it? Tell me everything."
"We found it out early this morning," the captain replied. "There are two cases, the steward aft here, and the cook for'ard. The steward is dead; we pitched him overboard just before I came down to you. The cook is very nearly as bad. I can tell you, I wish I was anywhere but where I am. I've got a wife and youngsters depending on me at home. The thing spreads like fire, they say, and poor Reimann was as well as you are a couple of hours ago. He brought me a cup of coffee and a biscuit up on to the bridge at eight bells, and now to think he's overboard!"
The captain concluded his speech with a groan, and then stood watching me and waiting for me to speak.