the past despised Sanchez, but I had never yet tested him as a
fighting man, and, indeed, no longer considered the fellow to be a
mean antagonist. Remembering who he was, I now realized fully the
desperate nature of my attempt, the need of quick, remorseless action.
Nevertheless I dared not attack until assured that those men he had
just dispatched were safely beyond ear-shot. I could hear or see
nothing of them; they had vanished utterly, and the soft sand returned
no echo of their footsteps. Time alone gave me judgment as to the
distance they would travel. If I yielded too much of this, they might
attain the sloop before I could sound an alarm; while if I moved too
quickly the noise would bring them back to the rescue. The moments
were agony, as I bent tensely forward, poised for a leap. God! I could
wait no longer!

Sanchez had turned slightly, apparently immersed in thought, and stood
with his face toward the Bay. Even in that darkness his position was
that of a man intently listening for the slightest sound to reach him
out of the black night. I ventured a cautious step forward, and stood
on the open sand, scarcely a yard to his rear, every nerve throbbing,
my lips still silently counting the seconds. I could not, I dared not
wait longer. Some vague sense of my presence must have influenced the
man, for he swung suddenly about, uttering a stifled cry of startled
surprise, as we met face to face. For an instant we were locked so
closely within each other's desperate grip, his head bent beneath my
arm, with my fingers clutching at his throat to block any call for
help, that he possessed no knowledge of his assailant's identity. But
the man was like a tiger, possessed of immense strength encased in a
wiry frame. The surprise of attack was to my advantage, yet almost
before I realized what was being done, he had rallied, broken my first
hold, and his eyes were glaring straight into mine. Then he knew me,