oded determination, comprehending it in all
its terrible significance. It tells him the young officers are still in
the town, and that these four men are about to waylay, rob, and murder
them. What they mean by "getting back their money" is the only thing he
does not comprehend. It is made clear as the conversation continues:

"I'm sure there's nothing unfair in taking back our own. I, Frank Lara,
say so. It was they who brought about the breaking of our bank, which
was done in a mean, dastardly way. The Englishman had the luck, and all
the others of his kind went with him. But for that we could have held
out. It's no use our whining about it. We've lost, and must make good
our losses best way we can. We can't, and be safe ourselves, if we let
these _gringos_ go."

"_Chingara_! we'll stop their breath, and let there be no more words
about it."

The merciless verdict is in the voice of Don Manuel.

"You're all agreed, then?" asks De Lara.

"_Si, si, si_!" is the simultaneous answer of assent, Calderon alone
seeming to give it with reluctance; though he hesitates from timidity,
not mercy.

Harry Blew now knows all. The officers have been gaming, have won
money, and the four fellows who talk so coolly of killing them are the
chief gambler and his confederates.

What is he to do? How can he save the doomed men. Both are armed;
Crozier has his sword, Cadwallader his dirk. Besides, the midshipman
has a pistol, as he saw while they were talking to him at the Sailor's
Home. But then they are to be taken unawares--shot, or struck down, in
the dark, without a chance of seeing the hand that strikes them! Even
if warned and ready, it would be two against four. And he is himself
altogether unarmed; for his jack-knife is gone--hypothecated to pay for
his last jorum of grog! And the young officers have been drinking
freely, as he gathers from what the ruffians say. They may be
inebriated, or enough so to put them off their guard. Who would be
expecting assassination? Who ever is, save a Mexican himself?
Altogether unlikely that they should be thinking of such a thing. On
the contrary, disregarding danger, they will come carelessly on, to fall
like ripe corn before the sickle of the reaper.

The thought of such a fate for his friends fills the sailor with keenest
apprehension; and again he asks himself how it is to be averted.

The four conspirators are not more than as many feet from the boat. By
stre