gorge, and Davis is just disappearing into it.

They shout to him to come back. He hears; but heeds not. Continuing
on, he is soon out of sight.

It matters little questioning him, and they give up thought of it. The
thing out at sea engrosses all their attention.

Now nearer, the telescope is no longer needed to tell that it is a
barque, polacca-masted; in size, shape of hull, sit in the water--
everything the same as with the _Condor_. And the bit of bunting, red,
white, blue--the Chilian ensign--the flag carried by the barque they
abandoned. They remember a blurred point in the central star: 'tis
there!

Spectre or not, with all canvas spread, she is standing towards them--
straight towards them--coming on at a rate of speed that soon brings her
abreast the islet. She has seen their signal--no doubt of that. If
there were--it is before long set at rest. For, while they are watching
her, she draws opposite the opening in the reef; then lets sheets loose;
and, squaring her after-yards, is instantly hove to.

A boat is dropped from the davits; as it strikes the water, men are seen
swarming over the side into it. Then the plash of oars, their wet
blades glinting in the sun; as the boat is rowed through the
reef-passage.

Impelled by strong arms, it soon crosses the stretch of calm water, and
shoots up into the cove.

Beaching it, the crew spring out on the pebbly strand--some not waiting
till it is drawn up, but dashing breast-deep into the surf. There are
nearly twenty, all stalwart fellows, with big beards--some in sailor
garb, but most red-shirted, belted, bristling with bowie-knives, and
pistols!

Two are different from the rest--in the uniform of naval officers, with
caps gold-banded. One of these seems to command, being the first to
leap out of the boat; soon as on shore, drawing his sword, and advancing
at the head of the others.

All this observed by the four Spaniards, who are still around the
signal-staff, like it, standing fixed; though not motionless, for they
are shaking with fear. Their apprehensions, hitherto, of the
supernatural, are now real. Even Frank Lara, despite his great
courage--his only good quality--feels fear now. For in the officer,
leading with drawn sword, he recognises the man who made smash of his
Monte bank!

For some moments, he stands in silence, with eyes dilated. He has
watched the beaching of the boat, and the debarking of her crew, without
saying word.