announced in gruff tones: "The prisoner, sir!"

There was a short pause, broken only by the rustling of papers, and then
a low, carefully modulated voice replied: "Bring the fellow in, then,
sentry"; and Jim was ushered into the presence of Captain Villavicencio,
the famous captain of the Peruvian corvette.

Entering, Douglas found himself in a large and airy cabin, situated in
the extreme after-end of the ship, opening on to a narrow gallery
running round the stern of the ship, from quarter to quarter. Two tall
and narrow doors which gave exit on to this gallery, and which now stood
open, disclosed a view of Callao harbour, with the water shimmering in
the rays of the newly risen sun, for it was early morning. In the
centre of the cabin, which was most luxuriously furnished, stood a
magnificent mahogany writing-table, at which sat the man whose name was
still ringing through a whole continent. He was an extremely handsome
individual, and his enormous proportions were well set off by the dark
blue and gold of his naval uniform. He had jet-black curly hair, and a
short, pointed beard; while the dark eyes which looked out from beneath
thick, overhanging brows, seemed to pierce through and through the
individual toward whom his glance was directed. Jim saw at once that
this was a man among a thousand, one who would make a name for himself,
and come to the front in spite of all opposition. But there was a
certain subtle something about the Peruvian which inspired in the young
man a feeling almost akin to terror. The eyes, for instance, had a
distinctly tigerish look about them, and the man's whole personality was
strongly suggestive of a feline nature. Those deep-set dark eyes, Jim
knew instinctively, could, at times, flash forth lightnings deadly in
their intensity; while that low, purring voice could also take on a note
of such deadly menace as would make the hearer's blood curdle. The
steel-pointed claw beneath the velvet glove was all too apparent to the
young Englishman, and he looked forward to the coming interview with
feelings that were anything but pleasant. He felt as though he were in
the power of some gigantic cat which might play with him until it was
tired of that amusement, and would then turn and rend him. No wonder,
he thought to himself, that the Chilians feared this man, and spared no
pains in their endeavours to destroy him and his ship.

In response to a wave of Villavicencio's hand, Jim to