ad a fright more than
once--several times, since we came aboard."

"A fright! what sort of a fright?"

"If you promise not to laugh at me, I'll tell you."

"I promise. I won't."

"'Twould be no laughing matter were it true. But, of course, it could
only be fancy."

"Fancy about what? Go on, _tia_: I'm all impatience."

"About the sailors on board. All have bad faces; some of them seem very
_demonios_. But there's one has particularly impressed me. Would you
believe it, Inez, he has eyes exactly like De Lara's! His features too
resemble those of Don Francisco; only that the sailor has a beard and
whiskers, while he had none. Of course the resemblance can be but
accidental. Still, it caused me a start, when I first observed it, and
has several times since. Never more than this very morning, when I was
up here, and saw that man. He was at the wheel, all by himself,
steering. Several times, on turning suddenly round, I caught him
looking straight at me, staring in the most insolent manner. I had half
a mind to complain to Captain Lantanas; but reflecting that we were so
near the end of our voyage--"

She is not permitted to say more. For at the moment, a man appearing on
the poop-deck, as if he had risen out of it, stands before her--the
sailor who resembles De Lara!

Making a low bow, he says:

"Not _near_ the end of your voyage, _senorita_; but _at_ it," adding
with an ironical smile: "Now, ladies! you're going ashore. The boat is
down; and, combining business with pleasure, it's my duty to hand you
into it."

While he is speaking, another of the sailors approaches Inez; Hernandez,
who offers his services in a similar style and strain.

For a moment, the girls are speechless, through sheer stark
astonishment. Horror succeeds, as the truth flashes upon them. And
then, instead of coherent speech, they make answer by a simultaneous
shriek; at the same time making an attempt to retreat towards the
cabin-stair.

Not a step is permitted them. They are seized in strong arms; and
half-dragged, half-lifted off their feet, hurried away from the
taffrail.

Their cries are stifled by huge woollen caps drawn over their heads, and
down to their chins, almost choking them. But though no longer seeing,
and only indistinctly hearing, they can tell where they are being taken.
They feel themselves lifted over the vessel's side, and lowered down
man-ropes into a boat; along the bottom of which they are fi