discover its outlines. Evidently the bloody work had been completed,
for now all was silent on board. I could not even detect the sound of
a footstep on the deck. Then, clear enough to be distinctly heard
across the narrow strip of water, came the voice of Estada, in a gruff
inquiry:

"So you are hiding here, Cochose? What are you looking for in the
sea?"

"What? Why that damned Englishman." The response was a savage growl,
intensified by husky dialect. "Mon Dieu! He fought me like a mad rat."

"The Englishman, you say? He was here then? It was he you battled
with? What became of the fellow?"

"He went down there, Senor. The dog stabbed me three times. It was
either he or I to go."

"You mean you threw him overboard?"

"Ay, with his ribs crushed in, and not a breath left in his damned
body. He's never come up even--I've watched, and there has not been so
much as a ripple where he sank."

The two must have hung in silence over the rail staring down. I dared
not advance my head to look, nor even move a muscle of my body in the
water, but both were still standing there when Estada finally gave
utterance to an oath.

"How know you it was the man?"