and in the yearning curl of his finger round the trigger, which
told the Spaniard that the least sign of hesitation would be fatal; and,
with the fear of death upon him, he instantly halted and flung up his
hands. Had he only known to what that was the prelude he would probably
have kept them down and marched on to his death!

Then, from behind Carlos, Jack appeared, with a whistle in his hand,
which he raised to his lips, and upon which he blew a shrill blast. At
the sound a number of negroes appeared, one of them bearing a long coil
of raw-hide rope, with a noose at one end of it, in his hand. This rope
Jack took from the hands of the negro and, dropping the noose over
Alvaros' head, drew it fairly tight, and then handed the rest of the
rope back to the black.

"Senor," exclaimed the quaking Spaniard, with quivering lips, "are you
about to murder me?"

"Not just yet," answered Jack cheerfully. "What we may eventually do I
will not pretend to say, because, you see, such vermin as you are not
fit to live; but at present we are only going to give you the second
instalment--I gave you the first, you will remember"--pointing to the
officer's still stiff elbow--"of the punishment due to you for your
infamous treatment of Don Hermoso and his family."

The fellow was by this time white as a corpse, and his lips were
tremulous with terror, yet he strove to carry things off with a high
hand.

"I presume, Senor," he said, "that it is due to your instrumentality
that that young ruffian is here at this moment, instead of on his way to
Fernando Po; and as he is here, I take it for granted that the remaining
members of the family are not far off. But rest assured that a terrible
retribution awaits you, not only for this outrage upon me, but also for
your rescue of prisoners sentenced by the Spanish Government to
transportation!"

"Yes," said Jack; "no doubt; I am quite willing to take your word for
that. But," altering his tone from one of banter to that of
concentrated anger, "let me tell you, Senor Alvaros, that Senorita
Isolda Montijo is dead--owing to your cruelty--and for that and your
other crimes retribution is about to fall on you. And this is the first
part of it!"

Saying which, he unbuckled Alvaros' sword, drew the weapon from its
sheath, and snapped the blade across his knee.

"There!" he exclaimed, flinging the pieces from him; "you will never
again disgrace that weapon by wearing it. Lead him away, P