pocket. . . ."

"Oh, yes, yes!" She was excited now and radiantly happy. "Of course,
Captain San Benavides must accompany us. He says the soldiers will
shoot him if they capture him. I, too, have money. Let me ask him to
explain matters to this dear woman and her daughter. They have been
more than kind to me already."

She turned to the sulky San Benavides and told him what Hozier had
suggested. He brightened at that, and began a voluble speech to Luisa
Gomez. Interrupting himself, he inquired, in French, how Hozier
proposed to reach the rock.

"On a catamaran. There are two on the beach, and I can handle one of
them all right," said Philip. "But what is this yarn of a warship?
When last I sighted the launch she was standing out of the harbor, and
the first clouds of the storm helped to screen her from the citadel."

Iris interpreted. San Benavides repeated his story of the rockets. In
her present tumult, the girl forgot the touch of realism with regard to
the firing that he had heard. Certainly there was a good deal of
promiscuous rifle-shooting after the departure of the launch, but
warships use cannon to enforce their demands, and the boom of a big gun
had not woke the echoes of Fernando Noronha that night. Philip deemed
the present no time for argument; he despised San Benavides, and gave
no credence to him. Just now the Brazilian was an evil that must be
endured.

Luisa Gomez promised to help in every possible way. Her eyes sparkled
at the sight of gold, but the poor woman would have assisted them out
of sheer pity. Nevertheless, the gift of a couple of sovereigns,
backed by the promise of many more if her husband devoted himself to
their service, spurred her to a frenzy of activity.

There was not a moment to be lost. The squall had spent itself, and a
peep through the chinks of the door showed that the moon would quickly
be in evidence again. It was essential that they should cross the
channel while the scattering clouds still dimmed her brightness; so
Manoela and her mother collected such store of food, and milk, and
water, as they could lay hands on. Well laden, all five hastened to
the creek, and Hozier, Iris, and San Benavides, boarded the larger of
the two catamarans. The strong wind had partly dissipated the noisome
odor, but it was still perceptible. Iris was sure she would never like
mangroves.

Having a degree of confidence in the queer craft that was lacking
during their