disabled the _Andromeda_,
revealed the presence of soldiers in that neighborhood. De Sylva
explained that a paved road ran straight from the town and
landing-place to the hamlet of Sueste and an important plantation of
cocoanuts and other fruit-bearing trees that adjoined South Point. It
was inadvisable to strike into that road immediately. A little more to
the right there was a track leading to the Curral, or stockyard. If
they headed for the latter place the men could obtain some stout
cudgels. The convict peons in charge of the cattle should be
overpowered and bound, thus preventing them from giving an alarm, and
it was also possible to avoid the inhabited hillside overlooking the
main anchorage until they were close to the citadel. Then, crossing
the fort road, they would advance boldly to the enemy's stronghold,
first making sure that the launch was moored in her accustomed station
in the roadstead beneath the walls. San Benavides would answer the
sentry's questions, there would be a combined rush for the guard-room
on the right of the gate, and, if they were able to master the guard,
as many of the assailants as possible would don the soldiers' coats,
shakos, and accouterments. Granted success thus far, there should not
be much difficulty in persuading the men in charge of the launch that a
cruise round the island was to be undertaken forthwith. Marcel would
remain with them until the citadel was carried. He would then hurry
back to bring Iris across the island to an unfrequented beach known as
the Porto do Conceicao, where he would embark her on a catamaran and
row out to the steamer, which, by that time, would be lying off the
harbor out of range of the troops who would surely be summoned from the
distant fort.

The project bristled with audacity, and that has ever been the soul of
achievement. Even the two wounded men from the _Andromeda_ took heart
when they listened to De Sylva's low-toned explanation, given under the
shadow of a great rock ere the final advance was made. If all went
well at the beginning, the small garrison of the citadel would be
astounded when they found themselves struggling against unknown
adversaries. Haste, silence, determination--these things were
essential; each and all might be expected from men who literally
carried their lives in their hands.

A keen breeze was blowing up there on the ridge. A bank of cloud was
rising in the southwest horizon, and, at that season,