A Prisoner of Morro Part 5

It was a rough trip in that tossing rowboat. It seemed to sink and then fairly bound up on the next wave, its bow went down and its stern shot up. It did everything except turn over, while the spray fairly flew over it.

But the st.u.r.dy sailors worked with a will, and the distance was not very great. In a short time the little craft shot round in the lee of the Spaniard.

"A ladder there!" shouted Clif.

And in a few moments the rope ladder came tumbling down. It seemed to come with bad grace though, as if it knew its owners didn't want to send it.

The rowboat was backed near and Clif, with a sudden spring, caught the ladder and leaped clear of the waves.

Before he went up he turned to the sailors.

"Two of you follow me," he commanded.

He climbed quickly up the ladder and stepped out on the deck, gazing about him eagerly.

He saw about a dozen dark-faced Spaniards gathered together and glaring at him; one of them, wearing the uniform of the captain, stepped forward toward him.

He was a surly, ill-looking man, with a heavy dark mustache. He bowed stiffly to the cadet.

"The senor takes possession," he said, in a low voice.

Clif was so busy watching this man that he did not look around the vessel. But we must do so.

We must glance for one instant at the capstan, which was just behind where the jaunty young cadet was standing. There was an interesting person near the capstan.

Clif did not see him; and neither did the sailors, nor even the Spaniards on the vessel. For he was crouching behind the capstan, out of sight.

He was a small man, dark and swarthy. He was the same one we noticed glaring at Clif; he had recognized him, and realized in a flash that the issue between them was death--death for one or else death for the other.

For Clif knew the man, and would secure him the instant he saw him; his crimes were many--treason and attempted a.s.sa.s.sination the worst.

For the man was Ignacio!

And his dark, beady eyes were glittering with hatred as he crouched in his momentary hiding-place. He was quivering all over with rage; the muscles of his sinewy arms were clinched and tense.

And in his right hand he clutched a sharp, gleaming knife, half hidden under his coat.

His glance was fixed on the figure just in front of him; the unsuspecting cadet was not twenty yards away, his back turned to his crouching enemy.

And Ignacio bent forward to listen and wait his chance.

The cadet, the object of his hatred, was talking to the captain.

"The senor takes possession," the latter repeated again.

"The senor does, with your permission," said Clif, quietly.

"You gave us quite a run," he added, after a moment's thought.

"A Spaniard would not surrender to Yankee pigs without a fight," snarled the other.

"You had best be a bit careful," was Clif's stern response, "or you may find yourself in irons."

The Spaniard relapsed into a sullen silence.

"What s.h.i.+p is this?" demanded the cadet.

"The Maria."

"From where?"

"Cadiz."

"Indeed! And bound where?"

"Bahia Honda."

Clif gave a low whistle.

"We caught you about in time," he said, with a smile. "You were nearly there. But I suppose the story is made up for the occasion. What is your cargo?"

The captain went over quite a list of articles; the sailors who were with Clif chuckled with delight as they heard him.

"We get a share in all this," Clif heard one of them whisper under his breath.

Clif smiled; and as soon as the captain finished he raised his arm and pointed to the stern of the vessel.

"You and your men will go aft," he commanded, "for the present; I will see you shortly."

The Spaniard was on the point of obeying; he had half turned, when suddenly with a single bound the treacherous Ignacio sprang forward.

His keen knife glanced in the air as he raised it in his outstretched arm and leaped upon the unsuspecting cadet.

Ignacio was clever at that sort of thing. He had tried it before; his spring had been silent as a cat's. Neither the sailors nor the officer heard him. And the blow might have fallen; Clif's only warning of his deadly peril.

But unfortunately for the desperate a.s.sa.s.sin, he had failed to let the captain of that vessel know what he meant to do. And the captain, as he saw him leap, realized in a flash that would mean an instant hanging for him.

And a look of horror swept over his face; Clif saw it and whirled about.

He was just in time to find himself face to face with his deadliest enemy; and the knife was hissing through the air.

CHAPTER IV.

IN COMMAND OF THE PRIZE.