d?"

"Ay, Senor."

"Then do not fail me tonight--and remember, it is to be the knife.
Estada."

"Here, Senor."

"I have forgotten one thing--scuttle the sloop before joining me. 'Tis
better to make all safe; and now, strong arms, and good luck. Go to
your task, and if one fails me, it will mean the lash at the
mast-butt."

They moved off one by one, Estada leading, along the narrow strip of
sand, five of them, on their mission of murder. The leader remained
alone, his back toward where I crouched, his eyes following their
vanishing figures, until the night had swallowed them.

CHAPTER VIII

A VICTORY, AND A DEFEAT

I arose silently to my feet, conscious of possessing no weapon, yet
fully aware that all hope of thwarting this villainy lay in immediate
action. But I must await the right moment. Even with the advantage of
surprise, there would inevitably be the noise of struggle. I had in
the past despised Sanchez, but I had never yet tested him as a
fighting man, and, indeed, no longer considered the fellow to be a
mean antagonist. Remembering who he was, I now realized fully the
desperate nature of my attempt, the need of quick, remorseless action.
Nevertheless I dared not attack until assured that those men he had
just dispatched were safely beyond ear-shot. I could hear or see
nothing of them; they had vanished utterly, and the soft sand returned
no echo of their footsteps. Time alone gave me judgment as to the
distance they would travel. If I yielded too much of this, they might
attain the sloop before I could sound an alarm; while if I moved too
quickly the noise would bring them back to the rescue. The moments
were agony, as I bent tensely forward, poised for a leap. God! I could
wait no longer!

Sanchez had turned slightly, apparently immersed in thought, and stood
with his face toward the Bay. Even in that darkness his position was
that of a man intently listening for the slightest sound to reach him
out of the black night. I ventured a cautious step forward, and stood
on the open sand, scarcely a yard to his rear, every nerve throbbing,
my lips still silently counting the seconds. I could not, I dared not
wait longer. Some vague sense of my presence must have influenced the
man, for he swung suddenly about, uttering a stifled cry of startled
surprise, as we met face to face. For an instant we were locked so
closely within each other's desperate grip, his head bent beneath my
arm, with my fin