I simply clung there desperately, hopelessly, yet the salt water soon served to revive me physically, and even my brain began to arouse from its daze to a faint realization of the conditions.

The small dory to which I clung, caught in some mysterious current, floated at the very extremity of its slender towline, and in consequence the sloop appeared little more than a mere smudge, when my eyes endeavored to 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.