he Quay?"

"And then he lay down in the boat here?"

"Just so; I saw no more of him after."

"That will do," said the Padre, handing the lantern to the boy.

That will do! thought I also. Master Chico, if you know me, I know _you_
as well!

The game was now begun between us,--at least, so I felt it. I lay
watching my adversary, who slowly paced backwards and forwards, stopping
now and then to peep into the boat, and doubtless conning over in his
own mind his plan of attack.

We were to land some passengers and take in some wood at a little place
called Fork Island; and here I was half determined within myself that my
voyage should end. That "Chico" had discovered me, was clear, the Padre
could be no other than him; and that he would inevitably hunt me down at
Austin was no less evident. Now, discovery and "lynching" were but links
of the same chain; and I had no fancy to figure as "No. 2" in Hall's
Court!

The silence on the deck soon showed that most of the passengers had gone
below, and, so far as I could see in the uncertain light, "Chico" with
them. I arose, therefore, from my hard couch to take a little exercise,
which my cramped limbs stood in need of. A light drizzling rain had
begun to fall, which made the deck slippery and uncomfortable, and so I
took my stand at the door of the cook's galley, into which two or three
of the crew had sought refuge.

As the rain fell the fog thickened, so that, standing close in to shore,
the skipper slackened our speed, till at last we barely moved through
the water. Not aware of the reason, I asked one of the sailors for an
explanation.

"It's the dirty weather, I reckon," said he, sulky at being questioned.

"Impatient, I suppose, to get the journey over, my young friend?" said a
low, silky voice, which at once reminded me of that I had already heard
when I lay in the boat. I turned, and it was the Padre, who, with an
umbrella over him, was standing beside me.

"I 'm not much of a sailor, Father," replied I, saluting him
respectfully as I spoke.

"More accustomed to the saddle than the poop-deck?" said he, smiling
blandly.

I nodded assent, and he went on with some passing generalities about sea
and land life,--mere skirmishing, as I saw, to invite conversation.

Partly weariness, partly a sense of discomfort at the persecution
of this man's presence, made me sigh heavily. I had not perceived it
myself, but he remarked it immediately, and said,--

"You are