r us by night, or by day. Until
he and his ship are gone--"

"The ship _is_ gone," says Rocas, interrupting.

"Ha! What makes you say that?"

"Because I know it."

"How?"

"Simply by having seen her. Nothing like the eyes to give one assurance
about anything--with a bit of glass to assist them. Through that thing
up there,"--he points to an old telescope resting on hooks against the
wall--"I saw the English frigate beating out by the Farrallones, when I
was up on the cliff about an hour ago. I knew her from having seen her
lying in the bay. She's gone to sea for sure."

At this the others looked surprised as well as pleased; more especially
Calderon. He need no longer fear encountering the much-dreaded
midshipman either in a duel or with his dirk.

"It's very strange," says De Lara. "I'd heard she was to sail soon, but
not till another ship came to relieve her."

"That ship has come," returns Rocas--"a corvette. I saw her working up
the coast last evening just before sunset. She was making for the Gate,
and must be inside now."

"If all this be true," says the chief conspirator, "we need lose no more
time, but put on our masks and bring the affair off at once. It's too
late for doing anything to-night; but there's no reason why we shouldn't
act to-morrow night, if it prove a dark one. We four of us will be
strength enough for such a trifling affair. I thought of bringing Juan
Lopez, our croupier; but I saw he wouldn't be needed. Besides, from the
way he's been behaving lately I've lost confidence in him. Another
reason for leaving him out will be understood by all of you. In a
matter of this kind it _isn't_ the more the merrier, though it _is_ the
fewer the better cheer. The yellow dust will go farther among four than
five."

"It will," exclaims the cockfighter with emphasis, showing his
satisfaction at what De Lara has done. He adds: "To-morrow night, then,
we are to act?"

"Yes, if it be a dark one. If not, 'twill be wiser to let things lie
over for the next. A day can't make much difference; while the colour
of the night may. A moonlit sky, or a clear starry one, might get us
all where we'd see stars without any being visible--through a noose
round our neck?"

"There'll be no moon to-morrow night," puts in the smuggler, who, in
this branch of his varied vocations, has been accustomed to take account
of such things. "At least," he adds, "none that will do us any harm.
The fog's s