"I will make a wider sweep round the bends in order to give you more room to manœuvre," added the captain of the Paloma. "We draw five feet less water than you and can afford to borrow on the shoals."
"That is very kind of you," semaphored Paquilla in reply.
"I wonder whether he means it or whether he is sarcastic," thought Mendoza. "If he has suspicions there will be trouble in store for me; but one thing, when he's inside the outer reefs, he's at my mercy."
The two vessels closed to the pre-arranged distance, and reduced speed to eight knots. Mendoza was on the bridge, conning the Paloma, with Lopez standing by to check any error on the part of the captain. At each extremity of the bridge were stationed signal-men, whose duty it was to semaphore alteration of helm and compass course for the Talca to make.
As the Paloma passed between the narrow gap in the outer reef, Mendoza's heart began to thump violently. He had plenty to occupy his mind. He had to observe the correct leading marks and give the necessary directions to the quartermaster. He had also to keep an eye on the Talca, and to use his judgment when the critical moment arrived.
There was no doubt that Paquilla was also feeling the strain. Nevertheless, although dependent upon his partner in piracy, he left nothing undone that a good seaman should do in similar circumstances. The leadsmen were in the chains, and a look-out man stationed aloft to give warning when the change of colour of the water indicated an otherwise unseen alteration in depth.
Once the Paloma increased speed to nine knots, Mendoza hoping that the vessel astern would not notice the change; but the alert Chief Officer of the Talca noticed the decrease of the mast-head angle by means of his sextant. Almost immediately the Talca gathered speed and regained the half-a-cable's interval between the two craft.
Presently Mendoza moistened his parched lips and addressed the signalman on the port side of the bridge.
"Signal the Talca eight points starboard helm!" he ordered.
"But it is too soon," protested Lopez.
Mendoza snarlingly told the interrupter to remain silent, and repeated the order. At the same moment the Paloma began to turn eight points to port.
All unsuspecting, Paquilla gave the signalled order to his quartermaster. Both vessels swung round simultaneously, the Paloma missing the angle formed by an abrupt change of channel by about ten yards on her port beam, while the Talca headed bows on to the reef.
Too late her masthead look-out shouted a warning. At that point the surf broke well beyond the reef, giving no indication to those on the Talca's bridge of the peril that awaited her.
At the agitated warning, Paquilla, realizing that something was amiss, rang for full speed astern. Promptly the order was executed, but the vessel carried too much way to gather sternway. With a dull rending crash she piled herself up hard against an almost perpendicular wall of coral, tearing out her keel plates to the extent of between twenty and thirty feet before she came to a standstill. Lifted by the huge sullen rollers she ground and pounded upon the vice-like reef, the while water poured into her like a gigantic sluice.
This much Mendoza saw. Then his whole attention swung back to his own piece of intricate navigation. Under the lee of a right-angled bend of breakers, scraping by a few mere yards the outflung spurs of jagged coral, the Paloma held on. Once and once only did the pirate skipper have any doubts, and that was when he brought the vessel's head on with one of several almost identical rocks. He glanced inquiringly at Lopez.
"Excellent, Señor Capitán!" exclaimed his subordinate fawningly.
Mendoza said nothing. Mentally he made a confirmatory note of that inconspicuous leading-mark. He would know it all right next time, without having to refer to Lopez.
After that, the channel was comparatively simple to follow, for Mendoza knew when to look for the board fixed to one of the palm trunks. Five minutes later, the Paloma lost way and brought up in the outer lagoon.
Mendoza had no intention of taking the vessel into the inner and secret harbour until he was able to assure himself that the Talca was properly accounted for, and that none of her crew escaped.
Already the wrecked pirate craft was breaking up under the relentless pounding of the terrible breakers. The stern was below water, the midships portion was already awash, while the bow remained constantly visible above the breaking seas. On the fo'c'sle were about thirty men, hanging on like grim death. The others had disappeared. Attempts had been made to get away the boats. The first was crushed like an eggshell against the ship's side. Another swung out, but before she could be lowered a swarm of frantic pirates rushed at her, fighting desperately in their efforts to tumble into the boat. Knives and pistols were used with deadly effect, and when at length the boat was lowered she shared the fate of the first.
A third managed to get clear, but instead of keeping head on to the seas and making for the open her crew tried to pull for the island. The trough of a big but not broken wave dropped her on top of a jagged rock. She split asunder, throwing her crew into the water. Not one gained the sheltered lagoon. The eddying water and the knife-like reefs accounted for them all, although the last to perish managed to struggle to within a hundred yards or so of the Paloma, when he threw up his arms and disappeared.
Just before high water, the breakers attained their maximum violence. While water poured ceaselessly over the Talca's foredeck—with each receding wave the number of survivors diminished until at length the last of the Chilean pirates went to his doom.
CHAPTER XIX. LOPEZ'S ATTEMPT UPON THE CAPTAIN
During the final scene of the destruction of the Talca, the buccaneers on board the Paloma gazed awe-stricken at the grim tragedy. They could not understand the motive that prompted their captain deliberately to run his consort on the reef. They were fully aware that he had done so, and their perplexity grew more and more as they realized that Mendoza was gloating over his treacherous act.
Mendoza, although he was satisfied with his work of destroying the Talca, was far from confident over the question of recovering most of her precious cargo. He had hoped that the Talca would pile herself aground so firmly that the greater portion of the hull would remain embedded on the reef. Even if she split asunder, the valuable contents of her fore and main hold would be spread over the rocks, when the booty could be recovered at low tide. He was now not so sure that the major portion of the wreck was fairly atop of the reef. The bow part certainly was, but from the relative position of the Paloma and the remains of the Talca, it was difficult to observe with any degree of accuracy the actual condition of the shattered hull.
"TACKLE HIM LOW!" EXCLAIMED KENNETH—Page 180
It then occurred to Mendoza that some explanation ought to be made to the crew.
He addressed them from the bridge:
"Men," he exclaimed, "you are wondering why I put yonder craft ashore. She was supposed to be our consort. The arrangement was not of my seeking nor was it my wish. Paquilla, I discovered, had a scheme to make us a cat's-paw. He meant to use our reserve of coal, to appropriate Boya as his base, and to still further enrich himself as the result of an enterprise against shipping of all nations.