“Why, if—–­if you had not told me this yourself I could hardly believe such a tale,” she exclaimed.  “Yet it must be true, miraculous as it seems.  But what is to be the ending?  Have you any plan of escape?”

“Hardly a plan.  I have had no opportunity even to learn the true nature of the crew.  Watkins is an honest sailor, and he has told me of others on whom I could rely.  There are those aboard—­but I do not know how many—­who would mutiny if they had a leader, and a reasonable chance of success.  I must reach these and learn who they are.  Fortunately the voyage promises to be long enough to enable me to plan carefully.”

“You have discussed the voyage with this man—­Estada?” “He told me what he had decided upon; not to return to their rendezvous until after they had captured some prizes, and could go with gold chinking in their pockets.”

“They have gold already—­the chest taken from my uncle.”

“That only serves to make such as these more greedy.”

“Where is their rendezvous?”

“An island in the West Indies, probably not on the chart.  They call it Porto Grande.”

“And they will sweep the ocean between here and there, seeking victims?  Unarmed merchantmen to rob and sink?  And you—­you will be compelled to take part in such scenes, such acts of pillage and perhaps murder.  Is this true?”

“I presume I must seem to be one of them to avoid suspicion.  There is some hope in my mind that we may chance to run into an English or French warship.  Quite a few must be cruising in these waters.  But these are only contingencies; they may happen and they may not.  How we are to act under such conditions will have to be decided later.  Now we must be content to seek release through our own efforts.  Have you any suggestions?”

She was silent for a long moment, during which she withdrew her hand, pressing it over her eyes as though thus to better concentrate her thoughts.

“There is conspiracy on board already,” she said finally “that you may not know about.”

“You mean to depose Sanchez?” I questioned in surprise.

“Yes; you had suspicioned it?  They thought me unconscious in the boat, and talked among themselves—­the two at the stern, Estada and that beast, Manuel.  I did not understand all they said, only a word or two, but I do not think they intend the Captain shall recover.”

“You think it best that he should?”

“Oh, I do not know; there is no best that I can see.  Yet I would have more faith in being spared disgrace if at the mercy of Sanchez, than his lieutenant.  Both may be equally guilty, equally desperate, but they are not the same men.”

“True, but I know not which is to be most feared.”

“I may be wrong,” she insisted, “for I judge as a woman, yet I would feel safer with Sanchez.  He cares not much for me, perhaps, yet enough so that I possess some power over him.  The other does not—­he merely desires with the passions of a brute.  No appeal would reach him; he would laugh at tears and find pleasure in suffering.  I do not quite believe this of Sanchez.”