at first, and apparently was unable to
find what he was looking for.

"Carramba!" he ejaculated, "what has de Soto done with those papers?"

He tore the remainder of them from the drawer with a curse, flung them
on the floor, and, dropping on his knees, hastily turned them over one
after another as they lay there.

Now for some time Roger had been vaguely conscious of a peculiar
sluggish movement of the ship as she heaved on the swell, and the sight
of Alvarez's haste suddenly brought the ghastly truth home to him. The
ship was sinking!

"I must wait no longer," muttered Alvarez to himself, "or I shall be
drowned like a rat in a trap, in company with that young heretic there
in the bunk. I wonder whether by any chance de Soto has taken those
papers himself! Carrajo! now I remember. When we came in together to
look at the English whelp the drawer was open. Without doubt de Soto
has them. Well, never mind; I will have them from him before I have
finished with him. I can recall all he has said about the Holy
Inquisition, and, if that is not enough to condemn him, I can easily
enough invent something else; but have those papers from him before he
dies, I will. Perhaps, when he is in the hands of that Inquisition he
hates so much, he will be willing to surrender those documents to his
dear friend Alvarez, if that friend promises to rescue him from further
torment. And now for the English cub," he continued, rising to his feet
and drawing his dagger from its sheath.

Once again came that sickening lurch, accompanied by the sound of
washing of water close at hand. The ship was fast settling down.

"No," murmured Alvarez, "I cannot wait. My life is too valuable to me
to risk it even for the pleasure of slaying an Englishman; and the sea
will soon send the youngster to the nether world." And he rushed from
the cabin, leaving the papers and charts strewn on the floor at the foot
of the escritoire.

By this time Roger was pretty fully awake to a knowledge of his great
and pressing danger. Here he was, weak and dazed to the point of utter
helplessness, on board a fast-sinking ship, with none to render him aid,
and feeling quite unable to move without it.

"Oh, God help me!" he moaned; "what a miserable death to die! Harry!
Harry! Harry!" he cried distractedly, "come and help me; I am here
below drowning! Help! help!"

There was no reply.

But a sound that he had heard before without attaching much import