yed
the three chiefs during their confabulation, and saw that the sailors
were proceeding to pull his vessel to pieces.

"Why so?" asked the General.

"What would you have them do with us?" returned the Spaniard. "They
have just come to the conclusion that they will scarcely sell the
_Saint-Ferdinand_ in any French or Spanish port, so they are going to
sink her to be rid of her. As for us, do you suppose that they will put
themselves to the expense of feeding us, when they don't know what port
they are to put into?"

The words were scarcely out of the captain's mouth before a hideous
outcry went up, followed by a dull splashing sound, as several bodies
were thrown overboard. He turned, the four merchants were no longer to
be seen, but eight ferocious-looking gunners were still standing with
their arms raised above their heads. He shuddered.

"What did I tell you?" the Spanish captain asked coolly.

The Marquis rose to his feet with a spring. The surface of the sea was
quite smooth again; he could not so much as see the place where his
unhappy fellow-passengers had disappeared. By this time they were
sinking down, bound hand and foot, below the waves, if, indeed, the fish
had not devoured them already.

Only a few paces away, the treacherous steersman and the sailor who had
boasted of the Parisian's power were fraternizing with the crew of the
_Othello_, and pointing out those among their own number, who, in their
opinion, were worthy to join the crew of the privateer. Then the boys
tied the rest together by the feet in spite of frightful oaths. It
was soon over; the eight gunners seized the doomed men and flung them
overboard without more ado, watching the different ways in which the
drowning victims met their death, their contortions, their last agony,
with a sort of malignant curiosity, but with no sign of amusement,
surprise, or pity. For them it was an ordinary event to which seemingly
they were quite accustomed. The older men looked instead with grim, set
smiles at the casks of piastres about the main mast.

The General and Captain Gomez, left seated on a bale of goods, consulted
each other with well-nigh hopeless looks; they were, in a sense, the
sole survivors of the _Saint-Ferdinand_, for the seven men pointed out
by the spies were transformed amid rejoicings into Peruvians.

"What atrocious villains!" the General cried. Loyal and generous
indignation silenced prudence and pain on his own account.

"T