"And what does that mean?" asked Nunez.

"I don't know," replied Cardatas, curtly. "How should I? But one thing I do know, and that is that I shall lie to until morning, and then we can feel our way near to the coast and see what it does mean."

"But what do you want to know for?" asked Nunez. "I suppose somebody on sh.o.r.e has built a fire. Is there any good stopping for that? We have lost a lot of time already."

"I am going to lie to, anyway," said Cardatas. "When we are on such business as ours, we should not pa.s.s anything without understanding it."

Cardatas had always supposed that these islands were uninhabited, and he could not see why anybody should be on one of them making a fire, unless it were a case of shipwreck. If a ship had been wrecked, it was not at all impossible that the _Miranda_ might be the unfortunate vessel. In any case, it would be wise to lie to, and look into the matter by daylight.

If the _Miranda_ had gone down at sea, and her crew had reached land in boats, the success of the _Arato's_ voyage would be very dubious. And should this misfortune have happened, he must be careful about Nunez when he came to hear of it. When he turned into his hammock that night, Cardatas had made up his mind that, if he should discover that the _Miranda_ had gone to the bottom, it would be a very good thing if arrangements could be made for Nunez to follow her.

That night the crew of the Miranda slept well and enjoyed the first real rest they had had since the storm. No watch was kept, for they all thought it would be an unnecessary hardship. The captain awoke at early dawn, and, as he stepped out of the tent, he glanced over sea and land.

There were no signs of storm, the brig had not slipped out into deep water, their boats were still high and dry upon the beach, and there was something encouraging in the soft, early light and the pleasant morning air. He was surprised, however, to find that he was not the first man out. On a piece of higher ground, a little back from the tents, Shirley was standing, a gla.s.s to his eye.

"What do you see?" cried the captain.

"A sail!" returned Shirley.

At this every man in the tents came running out. Even to the negroes the words, "A sail," had the startling effect which they always have upon ship-wrecked men.

The effect upon Captain Horn was a strange one, and he could scarcely understand it himself. It was amazing that succor, if succor it should prove to be, had arrived so quickly after their disaster. But not-withstanding the fact that he would be overjoyed to be taken off that desolate coast, he could not help a strong feeling of regret that a sail had appeared so soon. If they had had time to conceal their treasure, all might have been well. With the bags of gold buried in a trench, or covered with sand so as to look like a natural mound, he and his sailors might have been taken off merely as shipwrecked sailors, and carried to some port where he might charter another vessel and come back after his gold. But now he knew that whoever landed on this beach must know everything, for it would be impossible to conceal the contents of that long pile of bags, and what consequences might follow upon such knowledge it was impossible for him to imagine. Burke had very much the same idea.

"By George, captain!" said he, "it is a great pity that she came along so soon. What do you say? Shall we signal her or not? We want to get away, but it would be beastly awkward for anybody to come ash.o.r.e just now. I wish we had buried the bags as fast as we brought them ash.o.r.e."

The captain did not answer. Perhaps it might be as well not to signal her. And yet, this might be their only chance of rescue!

"What do you say to jumping into the boats and rowing out to meet them?"

asked Burke. "We'd have to leave the bags uncovered, but we might get to a port, charter some sort of a craft, and get back for the bags before any other vessel came so near the coast."

"I don't see what made this one come so near," said Shirley, "unless it was our fire last night. She might have thought that was a signal."

"I shouldn't wonder," said the captain, who held the gla.s.s. "But we needn't trouble ourselves about going out in boats, for she is making straight for land."

"That's so," said Shirley, who could now see this for himself, for the light was rapidly growing stronger. "She must have seen our fire last night. Shall I hoist a signal?"

"No," said the captain. "Wait!"

They waited to see what this vessel was going to do. Perhaps she was only tacking. But what fool of a skipper would run so close to the sh.o.r.e for the sake of tacking! They watched her eagerly, but not one of the white men would have been wholly disappointed if the schooner, which they could now easily make out, had changed her course and gone off on a long tack to the southwest.

But she was not tacking. She came rapidly on before a stiff west wind.

There was no need of getting out boats to go to meet her. She was south of the headland, but was steering directly toward it. They could see what sort of craft she was--a long schooner, painted green, with all sails set. Very soon they could see the heads of the men on board. Then she came nearer and nearer to land, until she was less than half a mile from sh.o.r.e. Then she shot into the wind; her sails fluttered; she lay almost motionless, and her head-sails were lowered.

"That's just as if they were coming into port," said Burke.

"Yes," said Shirley, "I expect they intend to drop anchor."

This surmise was correct, for, as he spoke, the anchor went down with a splash.

"They're very business-like," said Burke. "Look at them. They are lowering a boat."

"A boat!" exclaimed Shirley, "They're lowering two of them."

The captain knit his brows. This was extraordinary action on the part of the vessel. Why did she steer so straight for land? Why did she so quickly drop anchor and put out two boats? Could it be that this vessel had been on their track? Could it be that the Peruvian government--But he could not waste time in surmise as to what might be. They must act, not conjecture.

It was not a minute before the captain made up his mind how they should act. Five men were in each boat, and with a gla.s.s it was easy to see that some of them carried guns.

"Get your rifles!" cried he to Shirley and Burke, and he rushed for his own.

The arms and ammunition had been all laid ready in the tent, and in a moment each one of the white men had a rifle and a belt of cartridges.

For the blacks there were no guns, as they would not have known how to use them, but they ran about in great excitement, each with his knife drawn, blindly ready to do whatever should be ordered. The poor negroes were greatly frightened. They had but one idea about the approaching boats: they believed that the men in them were Rackbirds coming to wreak vengeance upon them. The same idea had come into the mind of the captain.

Some of the Rackbirds had gone back to the cove. They had known that there had been people there. They had made investigations, and found the cave and the empty mound, and in some way had discovered that the _Miranda_ had gone off with its contents. Perhaps the black fellow who had deserted the vessel at Valparaiso had betrayed them. He hurriedly mentioned his suspicions to his companions.

"I shouldn't wonder," said Burke, "if that Inkspot had done it. Perhaps he could talk a good deal better than we thought. But I vow I wouldn't have supposed that he would be the man to go back on us. I thought he was the best of the lot."

"Get behind that wall of bags," cried the captain, "every one of you.

Whoever they are, we will talk to them over a breastwork."

"I think we shall have to do more than talk," said Burke, "for a blind man could see that there are guns in those boats."

CHAPTER XL

THE BATTLE OF THE GOLDEN WALL

The five men now got behind the barrier of bags, but, before following them, Captain Horn, with the b.u.t.t of his rifle, drew a long, deep furrow in the sand about a hundred feet from the breastwork of bags, and parallel with it. Then he quickly joined the others.

The three white men stationed themselves a little distance apart, and each moved a few of the top bags so as to get a good sight between them, and not expose themselves too much.

As the boats came on, the negroes crouched on the sand, entirely out of sight, while Shirley and Burke each knelt down behind the barrier, with his rifle laid in a crevice in the top. The captain's rifle was in his hand, but he did not yet prepare for action. He stooped down, but his head was sufficiently above the barrier to observe everything.

The two boats came rapidly on, and were run up on the beach, and the men jumped out and drew them up, high and safe. Then, without the slightest hesitation, the ten of them, each with a gun in his hand, advanced in a body toward the line of bags.

"Ahoy!" shouted the captain, suddenly rising from behind the barrier.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" He said this in English, but immediately repeated it in Spanish.

"Ahoy, there!" cried Cardatas. "Are you Captain Horn?"

"Yes, I am," said the captain, "and you must halt where you are. The first man who pa.s.ses that line is shot."

Cardatas laughed, and so did some of the others, but they all stopped.

"We'll stop here a minute to oblige you," said Cardatas, "but we've got something to say to you, and you might as well listen to it."

Shirley and Burke did not understand a word of these remarks, for they did not know Spanish, but each of them kept his eye running along the line of men who still stood on the other side of the furrow the captain had made in the sand, and if one of them had raised his gun to fire at their skipper, it is probable that he would have dropped. Shirley and Burke had been born and bred in the country; they were hunters, and were both good shots. It was on account of their fondness for sport that they had been separated from the rest of their party on the first day of the arrival of the people from the _Castor_ at the caves.

"What have you to say?" said the captain. "Speak quickly."