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Updated: June 20, 2025
"It may not prove as hopeless as it appears now," he whispered confidentially. "I helped carry Sanchez to his stateroom, and washed and dressed his wound. There is no surgeon aboard, but I have some skill in such matters. He has a bad cut, and is very weak from loss of blood. The question of our success hinges on Pedro Estada." "What he will do, you mean?"
Yet the vivid memory soon returned, stimulated no doubt by the continuous aching of my body where Estada had so brutally kicked me with his heavy boots. The first recollection of that assault brought with it a dull anger, strangely commingled with a thought of Dorothy Fairfax, and a sense of my own duty.
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.
The mulatto, surprised by the sudden question, glanced inquiringly toward Estada, who had already completely lost his sense of humor. "Go!" the latter growled. "Where is she to go? Why send the wench below. I'll see to her later, and teach her who is the master here. She will not queen it long on these decks, I warrant you. Off with her now, but be back quickly."
He hated to confess, yet my eyes were honest, and met his squarely. "Enough to get along, but not quite sure as to my figures. I have taken no sights, except as we came north, on this trip. 'Tis for this reason I need you but you will play me no smart English trick, my man, or I'll have you by the heels at once. I know enough to verify your figures." "I thought of no trick, Estada."
"Hustle her along lively, boys," shouted back Estada coarsely. "If she won't move, give her a shove. Then tie her up again, and take the turn of a rope 'round her. What do you think this is a queen's reception? Move lively, Senorita," in mock sarcasm.
"To do so might delay the explosion," I replied gravely, "and just now any delay is welcome. I know how such an effort will try you, but the end may be well worth the sacrifice. I doubt if even Estada will resort to force on board; indeed force will be the very last card he will care to play in your case. He is a brute, and capable of any crime, yet at heart a coward.
The fellow lay in a heap, his flesh warm, but with no perceptible heart-beat, no semblance of breathing. My fingers sought his face, and I could scarcely suppress a cry of surprise he was not Estada. Who then was he? What could have been his purpose in thus invading this stateroom?
"So I discovered on landing; indeed I was told as much in England. However your disguise is perfect." Estada laughed. "There is no mistaking where the Namur came from, Senor; she's Holland from keel to topmast, but the best sailing Dutchman I ever saw. You said you were being watched on the sloop. Are you known?" The other uttered an oath snarling through his teeth.
"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.
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