"Sooner or later either Paquilla or myself would have to go under. My opportunity to score against a dangerous rival arrived, and I took it. To-morrow, if the weather holds fine—and there is every indication of it so doing—we will commence operations at low water on the wreck and help ourselves to Paquilla's hoard."
A cheer greeted the announcement, although in the silence that ensued one of the hands remarked in an audible tone that a precious lot they'd find after the hammering the wreck was getting.
A dark flush overspread the features of the pirate captain. For a moment or so he looked as if he meant to deal severely with the dubious man; but holding his feelings under control, Mendoza turned to Lopez and ordered him to take the Paloma into the inner harbour.
As soon as the vessel cleared the cañon-like entrance, Kenneth looked in the direction of the huts, hoping to catch a glimpse of his father. He was disappointed, although he derived some small measure of consolation from the fact that armed guards were patrolling in front of the building, which had been surrounded by barbed wire and was obviously intended as a sort of prison. Mr. Heatherington and Captain Gregory were the only two captives on the island when the Paloma sailed in quest of the Talca, and as it was improbable that other prisoners had been brought to Boya, Kenneth concluded that his father was still alive and in captivity.
The two chums were in a condition of utter perplexity over the events of the last few days. The inexplicable alliance between the Paloma and her intended prize, their joint attack upon the Het Volk, the deliberate wrecking of the Talca, and Mendoza's jubilant speech on the return of the buccaneers formed a tangled skein that was past Peter's and Kenneth's skill to unravel.
They were so utterly in the dark in a figurative sense that they were unable to form any plans to extricate themselves from their unhappy plight. As far as they were concerned, they were helpless. They realized that Mendoza, by keeping before them the threat to make Mr. Heatherington suffer for their delinquencies, held them as firmly as if they were bound hand and foot. They were willing enough to run risks on their own account in an attempt to regain their freedom; but the responsibility for Mr. Heatherington's safety acted as an effectual check to their activities. The ruthless manner in which Mendoza had destroyed first the Dutch vessel and then the Talca made the lads realize that they were "up against" a gang of desperate ruffians to whom the crime of murder was of no account.
The Paloma had hardly completed mooring when a sudden commotion attracted the chums' attention.
Lopez, having left the bridge, was still pursuing the conciliatory attitude towards his skipper, although his wish to revenge the insult when Mendoza ordered him to be lowered over the side was as fierce as ever. There was hardly the slightest doubt that the pirate captain read his subordinate's thoughts, and when Lopez, smirking and frowning, offered to congratulate him on having brought the Paloma safely through the shoals, Mendoza sarcastically admitted that he knew all that was required concerning the secret approach to Boya.
"And since you are no longer useful in the capacity of pilot," he added, "you can sling your hammock in the fo'c'sle with the other hands. And mark welclass="underline" the next time you refuse to carry out my orders or those of the officers, including the one I am about to appoint in your place, you'll dangle from the cathead again—with a running noose round your neck instead of a bowline round your waist. Is that clear?"
Kenneth and Peter, standing within twenty paces of the two pirates, were quite unprepared for what was about to take place. Mendoza had spoken without raising his voice, and, in their ignorance of Spanish, the chums merely thought he was giving customary orders to his subordinate.
A sudden scuffle riveted their attention. Lopez, with the snarl of a wolf, had drawn a knife and had hurled himself upon his captain. To a certain extent Mendoza had expected the attack, for the moment Lopez leapt the skipper threw his cap at his assailant's face, and, taking advantage of the temporary check to the distracted officer's movements, gripped him by the wrist.
A brief struggle ensued. Several of the hands were standing by, but made no attempt to go to their captain's assistance. Lopez, being younger and more active than Mendoza, bore the latter to the deck, although the captain maintained a strong hold on the other's wrist, and prevented him dealing a fatal thrust.
Neither Kenneth nor Peter would have shown much compunction had Mendoza been killed by any other hand than that of Lopez; but of the two pirates, Mendoza was the less disliked. Existence on board under Mendoza was a dog's life as far as the chums were concerned; under Lopez it would be infinitely worse.
"Tackle him low!" exclaimed Kenneth. "Mind the knife!"
The chums rushed to separate the combatants, Peter gripping Lopez round the waist, while Kenneth with a twisting movement seized Lopez's wrist and compelled him to drop the knife. Relaxing his hold, Kenneth picked up the weapon and threw it over the side. Then he proceeded to drag Mendoza farther away from his assailant, at the same time preventing the captain from taking advantage of Lopez's helpless condition.
For helpless Lopez was. For the first time he realized the strength of the English lad who held him in a vice-like grip—a hold learnt on the playing fields at school and developed by dint of hard, forced manual labour during his detention by the buccaneers of Boya.
"Keep him back!" panted Peter, observing that Mendoza, quickly aware of the powerless state of his attacker, was about to wreak vengeance upon his subordinate.
Pluckily Kenneth diverted the pirate captain's designs, kept him at bay, while half a dozen of the hands relieved Peter of his task and carried Lopez to the hatchway.
"That's right!" shouted Mendoza. "Keep him secure. Put him in irons. Death is too easy a punishment for a mutineering dog. I'll deal with him in due course."
Possibly it never occurred to the pirate captain to realize what he said. His sense of humour failed to grasp the fact that he too was a "mutineering dog".
Suddenly, he turned to the two British lads, but not to thank them for undoubtedly saving his life.
"Perdition take you for baulking me!" he exclaimed, in his quaint and broken rendering of the English tongue. "What do you mean by laying hands on me? In future, for your presumption, you will work double shifts while the Paloma remains in harbour. That will teach you a lesson not to interfere when I wish to punish a traitor."
The chums made no reply. It seemed useless to point out that had they not acted promptly, Lopez might be reigning in Mendoza's stead. Mendoza seemed to have forgotten that part of the incident, and remembered only the fact that he had been forcibly withheld by one of the lads from either knifing or shooting Lopez out of hand.
Early next morning at three-quarters ebb the Paloma's boat proceeded to the scene of the wreck of the Talca. Even with the tide low and in fair weather the boat had a hazardous passage, and, when they reached the spot, they found that any attempt to close the battered remains of Paquilla's craft meant certain destruction. No boat could live in that constantly breaking sea, and even at dead low water, tremendous crested waves surged in chaotic masses of milky foam over the highest part of the ledge. Only a few feet of the bows of the ship remained. The rest, including Paquilla's ill-gotten booty, had been swept far and wide, to find a secure resting place fathoms deep in the jagged fissures in the coral reefs.