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The lantern must have been put out since then by some confederate. Gunsaules would be soundly asleep long ago, and the light was supposed to burn until morning. However there was no noise, other than the creaking and groaning of the ship's timbers, mingled with the steady tread of LeVere on the upper deck.
"I would spit on this Manuel who seeks to be chief. I can never be -no; I am of black skin, with negro blood in my veins, and white men would never have it so. But I can hate, Senor. That is why I am with you now, if the devil so will. Your plan might work tell me more of it." "It is simple enough, LeVere, and came to me but now as I looked upon Estada lying there dead.
LeVere had obtained no more than a glimpse of his opponent, during their struggle in the dark, and while fighting for his life. Surely it would be easy enough to obscure any faint impression thus acquired. And the fellow had been heartlessly flung overboard; was believed to have sunk without a struggle, too drunk to save himself; was scarcely given another thought.
I climbed the ladder to where LeVere stood on the poop, but carefully ignored his presence, my gaze on the scene aloft. Twice I gave orders, changing the steering direction slightly, and commanding the lower sails reefed. The mulatto scowling, joined me at the rail. "Main-top there!" I called sharply. "Anything to report?"
"I heard the noise of a struggle out here, and voices conversing. Why are you alone?" I leaned over to speak in as low a tone as possible. "I can only explain very briefly. The man who came into your room last night had just murdered Estada. LeVere and I found the mate's body at daylight. His killing was part of a plot by Manuel, and the buccaneers quartered amidships, to seize the bark.
With each review the result seemed more certainly assured, and my courage revived. Except for some accident, or act of treachery, I could perceive no reason why my plan should not work perfectly. It was evident that LeVere was endeavoring to keep the watch on deck busy. I could hear his voice frequently, calling out orders and occasionally singling out some man for a special task.
If any word of this affair gets to the crew, or to those fellows forward, I'll hold you responsible. Understand that!" "Si, Senor." "You are not to leave this cabin without my permission, nor speak to anyone. LeVere." The mulatto faced me respectfully enough, and I had a feeling he would obey orders, largely because he dare not rebel. "Si, Senor." "They will be wondering why you are not on deck.
And this wind was certainly rising, already attaining a force to be reckoned with, for the boom of waves hurled against the bows of the laboring bark, was steadily becoming more noticeable, while overhead the ropes sang dismally. I wondered that LeVere hung on so long in his perilous position, although, in spite of the increased strain, the anchor still clung firmly.
Under no circumstances permit LeVere to enter the cabin. You understand?" He grinned appreciatively. "That nigger ain't likely ter get by me, sir; I'd just like for ter take one whack at him." "Don't be rough, if you can help it. As far as I know now he is with us, and ranks second officer. My only orders are see that he remains on deck while we are below." "Ay, ay, sir; he'll stay thar."
Only through treachery, or some unforseen accident. And, moreover, it was too late for retreat. The one chance, desperate as it appeared, must be taken. I managed to speak cheerfully, putting a ring of confidence into my voice. "Then the sooner we act the better. Watkins have LeVere order these men aft. Let him say that Senor Estada wishes them to break out some stores in the lazaret.
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