er, all of
you, silence is essential. If there is an accident, some of us may be
called on to drown without a cry. We must be ready to do it for the
sake of those who are left. Are we all agreed?"

A hum of voices answered him. De Sylva was, at least, a born leader.

CHAPTER VIII

THE RIGOR OF THE GAME

In obedience to their leader's order, Marcel, the taciturn, and
Domingo, from whose lips the Britons had scarce heard a syllable,
squatted on the catamaran. Marcel wielded a short paddle, and an
almost imperceptible dip of its broad blade sent the strangely-built
craft across the pool. Once in the shadow, it disappeared completely.
There was no visible outlet. The rocks thrust their stark ridge
against the sky in a seemingly impassable barrier. Some of the men
stared at the jagged crests as though they half expected to see the
Brazilians making a portage, just as travelers in the Canadian
northwest haul canoes up a river obstructed by rapids.

"Well, that gives me the go-by," growled Coke, whose alert ear caught
no sound save the rippling of the water. "I say, mister, 'ow is it
done?" he went on.

"It is a simple thing when you know the secret," said De Sylva. "Have
you passed Fernando Noronha before, Captain?"

"Many a time."

"Have you seen the curious natural canal which you sailors call the
Hole in the Wall?"

"Yes, it's near the s'uth'ard end."

"Well, the sea has worn away a layer of soft rock that existed there.
In the course of centuries a channel has been cut right across the two
hundred yards of land. Owing to the same cause the summer rains have
excavated a ravine through the crater up above, and a similar passage
exists here, only it happens to run parallel to the line of the cliff.
It extends a good deal beyond its apparent outlet, and is defended by a
dangerous reef. Marcel once landed on a rock during a very calm day,
and saw the opening. He investigated it, luckily for me--luckily, in
fact, for all of us."

Watts interrupted De Sylva's smooth periods by a startled ejaculation,
and Coke turned on him fiercely.

"Wot's up now?" he demanded. "Ain't you sober yet?"

"Some dam thing jumped on me," explained Watts.

"Probably a crab," said De Sylva. "There are jumping crabs all around
here. It will not hurt you. It is quite a small creature."

"Oh, if it's on'y a crab," muttered Watts, "sorry I gev' tongue,
skipper. I thought it was a rat, an' I can't abide 'em."

"