But, soon as recognising Crozier, he clutches Calderon by
the arm; more vividly than ever now his crime recalled to him, for now
its punishment, as that of them all, seems near. There is no chance to
escape it. To resist, will only be to hasten their doom--death.

They do not think of resistance, nor yet flight; but remain upon the
hill-top, sullen and speechless.

Calderon is the first to break the silence, frantically exclaiming:

"_Santos Dios_! the officers of the English frigate! Mystery of
Mysteries! What can it mean?"

"No mystery," rejoins De Lara, addressing himself to the other three;
"none whatever. I see it all now, clear as the sun at noonday. Blew
has been traitor to us, as I suspected all along. He and Davis have not
scuttled the barque, but left her to go drifting about; and the frigate
to which these officers belong has come across, picked her up--and lo!
they are there!"

"That's it, no doubt," says Velarde, otherwise Don Manuel Diaz. "But
those rough fellows along with them don't appear to be men-of-war's men,
nor sailors of any kind. More like gold-diggers, I should say; such as
crowd the streets of San Francisco. They must have come thence."

"It matters not what they are, or where from. Enough that they're here,
and we in their power."

At this Diaz and Padilla, now known as Rafael Rocas, step towards the
cliff's edge to have a look below, leaving the other two by the staff.

"What do you suppose they'll do to us?" asks Calderon of De Lara. "Do
you think they'll--"

"Shoot, or hang us?" interrupts De Lara; "that's what you'd say. I
don't think anything about it. I'm sure of it. One or other they'll
do, to a certainty."

"_Santissima_!" piteously exclaims the ex-ganadero. "Is there no chance
of escaping?"

"None whatever. No use our trying to get away from them. There's
nowhere we could conceal ourselves; not a spot to give us shelter for a
single hour. For my part, I don't intend to stir from this spot. I may
as well be taken here as anywhere else. _Carramba_, no!" he exclaims,
as if something has occurred to make him change his mind. "I shall go
below, and meet my death like a man. No; like a tiger. Before dying,
_I shall kill_. Are you good to do the same? Are you game for it?"

"I don't comprehend you," answers Calderon. "Kill what, or whom?"

"Whomsoever I can. Two for certain."

"Which two?"

"Edward Crozier and Carmen Montijo. You may do as you p