ach them. Then they raised themselves upon
their knees, and stretched out their hands to us in mute appeal. They
were white men--some of the Spaniards marooned by Captain Montbar as a
punishment for having stolen our vessel. And, with a shock, I
recognized among them Pedro de Castro, the traitor to whom we owed the
piracy of our ship.

When we came close to the unfortunate Spaniards whom Montbar had left
to shift for themselves on this desolate shore I bent over to examine
them. But that they moved I would not have thought them to be alive.
The pupils of their eyes were strangely dilated, and there were black
circles under their eyes. Their hollow cheeks were deeply wrinkled.
Their lips glued to their yellow teeth. They exhaled an infectious
odour, and might well have been taken for dead men come forth from the
tombs.

We had some salt junk and biscuits on the boat, kept in one of the
lockers against, as sometimes happened, the boat being unable to return
to the ship in time for meals, and I sent one of the crew to fetch a
portion, which he set before the famished men.

When the Spaniards saw the food their limbs were affected with a
shivering, and tears came into their eyes. Then they fell upon it, and
devoured it with sobs of joy. In astonishment and pity we watched them
at their wolfish meal. When they had finished I asked de Castro for
some account of what had befallen them.

The devil Montbar, he said, had abandoned them upon this desolate
island, telling them to make shift for themselves, and to learn from
the hardship of their lot repentance for the act of piracy they had
committed in stealing our ship. On searching the island they found it
to contain no water except a brackish liquid, to be had by digging, The
only food obtainable was shell-fish, and occasionally the rank flesh of
sea birds. They had neither the tools nor materials to build
habitations, and were forced to shelter themselves from the scorching
sun in summer and from the bitter cold in winter with a few bushes.
When de Castro spoke of Montbar he became livid, and a very evil light
shone in his eyes. For two years they had endured upon this island
untold suffering. All the women and children were long since dead,
except Donna Isabel Barreto, who clung to life with the tenacity born
of a desire for revenge. Of the two hundred and forty Spaniards
marooned by Captain Montbar but thirty now survived, the rest having
perished miserably from starvat