long wait on the coast, part of some scheme of their chief, in the
spoils of which they expected to share. It was for this end they had
been inactive for weeks, hiding and skulking along shore; now they
hoped to reap their reward in gold and silver, and then be permitted
to return to the wilder, more adventurous life they loved on the high
seas. Moreover this boat approaching through the darkness was bringing
back their leader, and however else they might feel toward him, the
reckless daring, and audacious resourcefulness of Sanchez meant
success. These fellows, the scum of the seven seas, whom he had
gathered about him, might hate and fear, yet were glad to follow. They
had learned on many a bloody deck the merit of their chief, and in
their way were loyal to him.

I was made to comprehend all this by the low, muttered utterances of
those crowding near me, spoken in nearly every language of the world.
Much I could not even translate, yet enough reached my ears to
convince me of the temper of the crew--their feverish eagerness to be
again at sea, under command of a captain whom they both hated and
feared, yet whom they would follow to the very gates of hell. Even as
they cursed him with hot oaths, in memory of some act of discipline,
there came into their voices a tinge of admiration, which furnished me
an accurate etching of the man. They knew him, these hell-hounds of
the sea, and from out their mouths I knew him also for what he was--a
cruel, cold-blooded monster, yet a genius in crime, and a natural
leader of such men as these. _Black Sanchez!_ All the unspeakable
horror which in the past had clung to that name came back again to
haunt me; I seemed to hear once more the tales of men who had escaped
from his grip alive; to see again the scenes they had witnessed. It
could not seem possible that I was actually upon one of his ships, in
the very midst of his wild crew. I listened to their comments, their