“Cochose?  He saw you then?”

“No, only as a shape.  He can have no better memory of me, than I of him.  We fought as demons, until his giant strength forced me over the rail.  He has no knowledge that I ever rose again.”

“And then—­what?”

“Oblivion; nothing.  Only what I saw in the return of the boat tells me what followed.  I came back to consciousness in a small dory, afloat on the Bay, with but one thought in my mind—­to save the girl.  How?  It was too late to return, even had I known the way; but I could come here, to this ship.  So here I came.”

“But how, in advance of those in the long-boat?”

“By cutting across the point; the coast to the north is a wide circle.  Besides the discovery of Sanchez sorely wounded left the others without a leader.  Fairfax and his niece together with the treasure, were in Travers’ house, at top of the bluff.  They had to carry out an attack there, which probably meant more fighting.  What really happened there, of course, I do not know.”

“It can be easily imagined,” said Watkins soberly.  “Estada has no mercy; he is a born devil.  I have seen him kill just for the pleasure of it.  With Sanchez to avenge he would be an unleashed demon.  But it is not the fate of those men to consider now; it is what will befall this girl prisoner.  You have no plan?”

“None; to become a member of the crew was my only thought.  But I must act, if at all, before the Captain recovers.  He would recognize me at sight.  You will aid, advise me?”

The sailor sat silent; the former expression of humor in his face vanished.

“That is easier to ask, than answer, mate,” he admitted finally.  “I am an English seaman, and will do my duty, but, so far as I can see, there is no plan we can make.  It is God who will save the girl, if she is to be saved.  He may use us to that end, but it is wholly beyond our power to accomplish it alone.  The only thing I can do is to sound out the men aboard, and learn just what we can expect of them if any opportunity to act comes.  There are not more than a dozen at most to be relied upon.”

“And my part?”

“Do nothing at present.  Play your part, and keep quiet.  If you can let her know of your presence aboard without discovery it might be best—­for if she saw you suddenly, unprepared, she might say or do something to betray you.  There are other reasons why it may be best for her to know she is not entirely deserted.”

He leaned over, motioning me toward him, until his lips were at my ear.

“It may not prove as hopeless as it appears now,” he whispered confidentially.  “I helped carry Sanchez to his stateroom, and washed and dressed his wound.  There is no surgeon aboard, but I have some skill in such matters.  He has a bad cut, and is very weak from loss of blood.  The question of our success hinges on Pedro Estada.”

“What he will do, you mean?”