"
"Just fancy those horrid Indians venturing to approach the ship
to-night after the dreadful lesson they received this afternoon! And
what will poor Senor Suarez say? He was so positive that they would
never come near us after dark."
"I saw him, also, on the promenade deck," answered Christobal quietly.
"He had very much the semblance of a false prophet."
The Spaniard meant to meet grim fate with a jest on his lips. He had
seen Suarez lying dead or insensible close to the rails. In fact, the
unlucky Argentine was only separated by the thickness of the ship's
deck from the table near which Elsie was standing. Unless he were
speedily rescued he would bleed to death.
"Ah, I heard Joey barking. He has gone aft," cried Elsie. "And what
is that?" she added, moving suddenly towards the center of the saloon.
She had caught the fierce hiss of steam, and she was well aware that
steam would only be brought into use if the Indians were endeavoring to
climb the ship's sides: not yet had it occurred that they could
possibly be on board.
"Some of our friends the enemy have come near enough to be scalded,"
said the man, coolly.
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