r the man on guard, _who sleeps all day long_?"

"Just for that reason he may not sleep at night. Remain here, I'll go
round and climb up. _Carramba_! if I find this sleepy-head," he added,
holding out his long knife, the blade of which glittered through the
darkness, "so much the worse--or, perhaps, so much the better for him--
for I shall send him where he may sleep forever."

"_Mil diablos_!" thought Pepe, "this fellow is a philosopher! By the
holy virgin I am long enough here."

And at this thought, he crept out of the folds of his cloak like a snake
out of his skin, and leaving the garment where it lay, crawled rapidly
away from the spot.

Until he had got to a considerable distance, he was so cautious not to
make any noise, that, to use a Spanish expression, _the very ground
itself did not know he was passing over it_.

In this way he advanced, carbine in hand, until he was opposite the
point where the boat rested against the beach. There he stopped to
recover his breath,--at the same time fixing his eye upon the individual
that was alone.

The latter appeared to be buried in a sombre reverie, motionless as a
statue, and wrapped in an ample cloak, which served both to conceal his
person and protect him from the humidity of the atmosphere. His eyes
were turned toward the sea; and for this reason he did not perceive the
dark form of the carabinier approaching in the opposite direction.

The latter advanced with stealthy tread--measuring the distance with his
eye--until at length he stood within a few paces of the boat.

Just then the stranger made a movement as if to turn his face towards
the shore, when Pepe, like a tiger hounding upon its prey, launched
himself forward to the side of the boat.

"It is I!" he exclaimed, bringing the muzzle of his carbine on a level
with the man's breast. "Don't move or you are a dead man!"

"You, who?" asked the astonished stranger, his eyes sparkling with rage,
and not even lowering their glance before the threatening attitude of
his enemy.

"Why me! Pepe--you know well enough? Pepe, the Sleeper?"

"Curses upon him, if he has betrayed me?" muttered, the stranger, as if
speaking to himself.

"If you are speaking of Don Lucas Despierto," interrupted the
carabinier, "I can assure you he is incapable of such a thing; and if I
_am here_ it is because that he has been only too discreet, senor
smuggler."

"Smuggler!" exclaimed the unknown, in a tone of proud disd