pain, and then, with the rage of a mad
dog, Sanchez struck his teeth deep into my cheek. The sharp pang of
pain drove me to frenzy, and for the first time I lost all control, my
one free hand seeking to reach the lost knife. With a thrill of
exultation I gripped it, driving instantly the keen blade to its hilt
into the man's side. He made no cry, no struggle--the set teeth
unlocked, and he fell limply back on the sand, his head lapped by the
waves.

I remained poised above him, spent and breathless from struggle,
scarcely conscious even as to what had occurred so swiftly, the
dripping knife in my hand, blood streaming down my cheek, and still
infuriated by blind passion. The fellow lay motionless, his face
upturned to the sky, but invisible except in dim outline. It did not
seem possible he could actually be dead; I had struck blindly, with no
knowledge as to where the keen blade had penetrated--a mere desperate
lunge. I rested my ear over his heart, detecting no murmur of
response; touched the veins of his wrist, but found there no answering
throb of life. Still dazed and uncertain, I arose staggering to my
feet, conscious at last that the man must actually be dead, yet, for
the moment, so surprised by the discovery as to scarcely realize its
significance. Not that I regretted the act, not that I experienced the
slightest remorse, yet, for an instant, the shock seemed to leave me
nerveless and unstrung. Only a moment since I was engaged in desperate
struggle, and now I could only stare down at the dark lines of that
motionless body outstretched upon the sand.

Then I remembered those others--the unconscious sleepers on the deck
of the sloop; those blood-stained villains creeping toward them
through the black shadows of the night. The memory was like a dash of
water in the face. With the death-dealing knife still gripped in my
hand, I raced forward along the narrow strip of sand, reckless of what
I might encounter, eager only to arrive in time to give utterance to a
shout of warning. I could not have covered more than half the
distance when the first sound of attack reached me--far-off, gurgling
cry of agony, which pierced the darkness like the scream of a dying
soul. The heart leaped into my throat, yet I ran on, unhalted, unseen,
until the planks of the wharf were beneath my feet, the low side of
the sloop looming black before me. There was confusion aboard, the
sounds of struggle, mingled with curses and blows. Wit