“Si, Senor,” his eyes again sparkling with interest.  “The men quarreled, and there was fighting.”

“Then there is no escape in that direction and it can be no great task to close any passage leading aft.  Lower the deck hatch, and we have those devils below caged like so many rats.  There need be no fighting; starvation will bring them to terms.”

“But, Senor, you forget—­your dozen men cannot guard the buccaneers below, and also manage the bark at sea.  The crew are not all lambs—­many will sympathize with those thus locked beneath deck.  Cochose is bad, and a friend of Manuel.  He will fight, and there are others to back him.”

“I know that, LeVere.  The whole plan is desperate, but there is no other possible.  Here is my scheme.  There is a gun rack in the cabin, containing enough weapons to arm the dozen men we can trust.  The others have nothing but their sheath knives.  The buccaneers can be secured below, before these other lads ever realize what is happening—­many will be asleep in the forecastle.  As soon as we have control of the ship we’ll round them up forward.  They won’t dare face the guns.  I’ll give them their choice, and, as for Cochose, I’ve taken his measure once already, and am ready to try it again.”

“And what will you tell them, Senor?”

I caught my breath, conscious of his meaning.  My secret hope could not be revealed to this fellow.  However hate and ambition might sway him, and however personal fear might influence him, at the moment, his purpose and mine were entirely different.  Piracy was his life; he knew and cared for nothing else.  In innate savagery he was not better than any of the others, and must be dealt with accordingly.  Just now I must have him on my side, and conditions had delivered him into my hands.  But I could only hope to retain him through self interest.  The mulatto had little faith in me; I was a stranger, an Englishman, unknown and untried.  Naturally we were enemies.  He would make use of me for the present if he could, and as smilingly knife me tomorrow if it served his turn.  I felt confident of that, and in consequence the answer came quickly to my lips.

“The whole truth, Senor LeVere—­that Manuel conspired to seize the bark through a mutiny of the buccaneers; that these were to be turned loose with license to kill anyone on board who opposed them; that their real purpose was to divide among themselves all the treasure below; then wreck the vessel, and escape with it.  That to this end Estada had already been foully murdered and that they also intended to take the lives of the other officers so as to be free to do as they pleased.  I shall explain that we discovered this conspiracy just in time to save them from butchery, and that they must stand by us, or else submit to those hell-hounds.  I’ll put it strong.”

“And after that, Senor?”

“Why Porto Grande, of course,” I admitted heartily.  “It is not a long voyage, and if we bring the boat in safely the treasure is ours.  The men will understand what that means—­a handful of gold for each of them and a run ashore.  Why, LeVere, they will make more apiece than by looting a half dozen ships, and with no fighting.  It will be a fortune for you and me.”