in the bottom of the boat, and now, with every movement,
chafed the raw spots, rendering the slightest motion a physical
agony. I had evidently lost considerable blood, yet this had already
ceased to flow, and a very slight examination served to convince me
that the knife slashes were none of them serious. Beyond these
punctures of the flesh, while I ached from head to foot, my other
injuries were merely bruises to add to my discomfort--the result of
blows dealt me by Sanchez and Cochose, aggravated by the bearlike hug
of the giant negro. Indeed, I awoke to the discovery that I was far
from being a dead man; and, inspired by this knowledge, the various
incidents of the night flashed swiftly back into my mind. How long had
I been lying there unconscious, adrift in the open boat? How far had
we floated from land? Where were we now, and in the meantime what had
occurred ashore?

These were questions impossible to answer. I could not even attempt
their solution. No gleam of light appeared in any direction; no sound
echoed across the dark waste of water. Far above, barely visible
through a floating veil of haze, I was able to detect the faint gleam
of stars, and was sailor enough to determine through their guidance
some certainty as to the points of compass; yet possessed no means by
which to ascertain the time of night, or the position of the boat.
With this handicap it was clearly impossible for me to attempt any
return to the wharf through the impenetrable black curtain which shut
me in. What then could I do? What might I still hope to accomplish? At
first thought the case appeared hopeless. Those fellows had swept the
sloop clean, and had doubtless long ago scuttled it. This ruthless
deed once accomplished, their orders were to raid the house on the
bluff. But would they go on with their bloody work? They would
suddenly find themselves leaderless, unguided. Would that suffice to
stop them? The vivid memory came to me anew of that arch villain,
Sanchez, lying where I had left him, his head resting in the
surf--dead. Would the discovery of his body halt his followers, and
send them rushing back to their boat, eager only to get safely away?
This did not seem likely. Estada knew of my boarding the sloop from
the wharf, and would at once connect the fact of my being ashore with
the killing of Sanchez. This would satisfy him there was no further
danger. Besides, these were not men to be easily frightened at sight
of a dead b