The giant relaxed his grip, but the convict gave only a deep groan, and allowed his head to fall on his shoulder.

"You've killed him!" cried someone.
Gabbett took another look at the purpling face and the bedewed forehead, and then sprang erect, rubbing at his right hand, as though he would rub off something sticking there.
"He's got the fever!" he roared, with a terror-stricken grimace.
"The what ?" asked twenty voices.
"The fever, ye grinning fools!" cried Gabbett.

"I've seen it before to-day.

The typhus is aboard, and he's the fourth man down!" The circle of beast-like faces, stretched forward to "see the fight," widened at the half-uncomprehended, ill-omened word.

It was as though a bombshell had fallen into the group.