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?"

"Yes; this is a chance which I happen to know he has long been waiting
for. The only question is, has he the nerve to act. I doubt if he has
alone, but LeVere is with him, and that half-breed would cut the
throat of his best friend. You understand?--the death of Sanchez would
make Estada chief. The two men hate each other--why not? There was a
plan before which failed; this time it may not fail."

"But," I interposed, "in that case what would the crew do?"

"Accept Estada, no doubt; at least the cut-throats would be with him,
for he is of their sort. All they care for is blood and booty. But
Sanchez's death would save you from discovery, and," his voice still
lower, so that I barely distinguished the words, "in the confusion
aboard, if we were ready, the _Namur_ might be so disabled as to
compel them to run her ashore for repairs. That would give you a
chance. If once we reach Porto Grande there is no hope."

A marling-spike pounded on the scuttle, and Haines' voice roared down.

"Port watch! Hustle out bullies!"