It was a confused tangle of ropes I was compelled to traverse, yet none greatly interfered with my progress, except to render it slower, and the consequent strain harder upon the arms.  The huge foremast, close against which I swung, grew bulkier as I descended.  Suddenly my feet touched the solid deck.  I discovered myself between the foremast and the rail, so dropping upon hands and knees I crept silently around, hoping thus to gain clearer view forward.  As I circled the vast butt of the mast I came suddenly face to face with the friar, sitting upon the deck and blinking at me with drunken gravity.

CHAPTER VI

THE ROLE OF PERE CASSATI

I have no knowledge as to what the surprised priest thought regarding the astounding apparition thus bursting upon him.  Perchance he mistook me for the ghost of some ancient Father Superior visiting him in warning of his sins.  However, I permitted him small space for any reflection.  I have ever been swift in action; was awake then with the excitement of my venture, and little accustomed to hesitancy at such a time.  Moreover, I despised the fellow, and was not loath to be the instrument of punishment to him, and I never struck any man a deadlier blow with the bare fist than that I put in just back of his ear.  My posture was not the best for such exercise; nevertheless it permitted me to do the work, and he went over without word or groan, even as I have seen a buck fall to the rifle when the ball sang straight to the heart.

Indeed, so limp did he drop upon his side, with not a sigh to relieve the sickening impression, I feared at first I had killed him—­for it is a wicked blow, such as has caused death more than once.  I was reassured, however, by listening intently at his heart, and, not knowing how soon he might revive in the cool night air, took precautions to keep him dumb before venturing to leave him huddled against the butt of the great mast, and proceed forth on my own mission.

To lower the long gray skirt of my monk’s robe until it touched the deck planks, loosening as I did so the hunting knife securely hidden within my waist-belt, and to draw up the coarse, ample hood, thus better to conceal my features, after the same manner I was pleased to note Cassati wore his, were my first duties.  The way of procedure had been made clear; fate had seemingly solved that problem.  My sole prospect of attaining the guarded space between decks, of reaching the cell of the man I sought, lay in careful impersonation of the drunken French priest, now lying insensible at my feet.  Nor in this imposture did I anticipate serious difficulty.  Everything thus far had developed so favorably I became hopeful of the outcome—­the inspiration of success brought with it renewed courage and confidence.  The exciting incidents of the night had awakened me to the humor of the venture, and I smiled grimly at the rare conceit of the contemplated