has given chagrin
to both, but which neither can satisfactorily explain.

The more they reflect on the conduct of the English sailor, the stranger
it seems to them; and the greater is their vexation. For now they feel
almost sure that something must have happened; that same thing--whatever
it be--which dictated those cruel parting compliments. They seem doubly
so now; for now they have evidence that such must have been the
sentiment--almost proof of it in the behaviour of Harry Blew.

They are hurt by it--stung to the quick--and never again during that
voyage do they attempt entering into conversation with the first officer
of the _Condor_, nor with any one belonging to her--save her kindly
captain, and the cook, equally kind to them, though in a different way.

Indeed, they no longer care to go on deck; only on rare occasions
showing themselves there, as if they disliked looking upon him who has
so rudely reminded them of the treason of their lovers.

Can it be treason? And if so, why? They ask these questions with eyes
bent upon their fingers--on rings encircling them--placed there by those
they are suspecting of disloyalty! The insignia should be proof of the
contrary. But it is not, for love is above all things suspicious--
however doting, ever doubting. Even on this evidence of its truth they
no longer lean, and scarce console themselves with the hope, which that
has hitherto been sustaining them. Now farther off than ever seems the
realisation of that sweet expectancy hoped for and held out at last
parting, promised in the phrase: "_Hasta Cadiz_!"

CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE.

"DOWN HELM."

"Land, ho!"

The cry is from a man stationed on the fore-topmast cross-trees of the
_Condor_. Since sunrise he has been aloft--on the lookout for land. It
is now near noon, and he has sighted it.

Captain Lantanas is not quite certain of what land it is. He knows it
is the Veraguan coast, but does not recognise the particular place.

Noon soon after coming on, with an unclouded sky, enables him to catch
the sun in its meridian altitude, and so make him sure of a good sight.
It gives for latitude 7 degrees 20 minutes North, while his chronometer
furnishes him with the longitude 82 degrees 12 minutes West.

As the Chilian is a skilled observer, and has confidence in the
observations he has made, the land in sight should be the island of
Coiba; or an island that covers it, called Hicaron. Both are off the
coas