ft was
perfectly water-tight, they hauled her towards the spot where they had
buried the gold, dug up the boxes, and carried them down to the water's
edge. The boat was then hauled in until she was in four feet of water.
Stephen and Jacopo waded out, carrying the boxes on their heads, then the
captain lifted them on board, and, taking them below, packed them along
her keel.

By this time it was late in the afternoon, and they calculated that by
beginning at daybreak, they would get the greater portion of their stores
and water on board next day. It was a moonlight night, and, after
indulging in supper and a long talk over the next day's work, they lay
down to sleep.

It was some time before Stephen fell into a light sleep, being too excited
at the thought of their approaching deliverance to compose himself to a
sound slumber. He was awakened by a slight movement, and, turning round,
saw in the moonlight Jacopo kneeling by the captain with a knife uplifted.
With a shout Stephen sprung up, grasped his sword, which he had, ever
since the gold was hidden, placed by his side when he lay down, and rushed
at the Peruvian. The knife had, however, descended twice, and the assassin
gained his feet just as Stephen fell upon him. So quick had been the
latter's movement that the edge of his sword fell on the side of the
murderer's face before he had time to place himself on guard. With a howl
of pain and rage he sprang out from the end of the tent, and rushed to the
narrow opening left in their barricade.

Stephen pursued him hotly, but the Peruvian was quicker footed, and,
dodging among the trees, presently left him behind. Stephen returned to
the tent, stirred up the fire to a blaze, and then bent over the captain.
He saw at once that the latter was dead, the knife having twice struck him
in the region of the heart. Stephen took up one of the loaded muskets and
sat down at the entrance of the barricade. He felt completely crushed at
the blow. His early suspicions of Jacopo had gradually died out, for the
man had worked willingly and steadily; he had seemed perfectly contented
with the prospect, and entered as keenly into the building of the cutter
as Stephen and the captain had done. But it was evident now that he had
all along meditated the murder, and had only delayed until the craft was
built and fitted, the gold in its place, and everything ready for sailing
save putting the stores on board, which he could manage by himself.