it inexpedient to confess that they were pirates, pretended to be castaways.  They built the sloop with the idea of stealing away by themselves, and but for my discovery of the theft of the diamonds and the bursting of the crater would have done so.  As I suspected, Kidd allowed us to go with them, solely with a view to cutting our throats and appropriating the remainder of the diamonds.  This design being frustrated by our watchfulness, he next conceived the notion of putting in at Arica or Islay, charging me with robbing him, and, in collusion with the authorities, whom he intended to bribe, depriving me of all I possessed.  This plan likewise failing, and having a decided objection to Callao, where he was known and where there might be a British cruiser as well as a British consul, Kidd hit on the brilliant idea of doctoring the compass and making me think we were going north by west, while our true course was almost due west, his object being to reach San Ambrosio, a group of rocky islets some three hundred miles from the coast, and a pirate stronghold and trysting-place.  If they did not find any old comrades there, they would at least find provisions, water, and firearms, and so be able, as they thought, to despoil me of my diamonds.  Also Kidd had hopes of falling in with Captain Hux, a worthy of the same kidney, who commanded the “free-trader” Culebra, and whose favorite cruising-ground was northward of San Ambrosio.

“But in my opinion,” observed Mr. Yawl, coolly, when he had finished his story, “in my opinion we passed south of the islands last night, and so I told Kidd; they’re very small, and as there’s no lights, easy missed.”

“We must be a long way from Callao, then.  How far do you suppose?”

“That is more than I can tell; may be four hundred miles.”

“And how long do you think it will take us to get there, assuming it to be four hundred miles?”

“Well, on this tack and with this breeze—­you see, sir, the wind has fallen off a good deal since sunrise—­with this breeze, about eight days.”

“Eight days!” I exclaimed, in consternation.  “Eight days! and I don’t think we have food and water enough for two.  Come with me below, Ramon, and let me see how much we have left.”

CHAPTER XXXIII.

GRIEF AND PAIN.

It was even worse than I feared.  Reckoning neither on a longer voyage than five or six days nor on being so far from the coast that, in case of emergency, we could not obtain fresh supplies, we had used both provisions and water rather recklessly, and now I found that of the latter we had no more than, at our recent rate of consumption, would last eighteen hours, while of food we had as much as might suffice us for twenty-four.  It was necessary to reduce our allowance forthwith, and I put it to Yawl whether we could not make for some nearer port than Callao.  Better risk the loss of my diamonds than die of hunger and