“Then it is at the house?”

“In an iron-bound chest, carried up from the sloop, and placed in the room assigned to Fairfax for the night.  He considers it perfectly safe under his bed.  But before we attempt reaching this, we must attend to those men left below on the boat.  They are the only dangerous ones, for there are none of the fighting sort up above.  Only two servants sleep in the main house, the cook, and a maid, both women.  The others are in the slave quarters, a half mile away.  Fairfax is vigorous, and will put up a fight, if he has any chance.  He must be taken care of, before he does have any.  Travers is an old man, to be knocked out with a blow.  All we have to fear are those fellows on the sloop, and they will have to be attended to quietly, without any alarm reaching the house.  I am going to leave that job to you—­it’s not your first.”

“The old sea orders, Captain?”

“Ay, that will be quicker, and surer,” The voice hardened in gust of sudden ferocity.  “But, mark you, with one exception—­the Englishman is not to be killed, if he can be taken alive.  I would deal with him.”

“How are we to recognize him from the others?”

“Pish! a blind man would know—­he is the only one of that blood on board, taller, and heavier of build, with blond hair.  A mistake, and you pay for it.  Besides him there are two negroes, and an Irish fool.  It matters not what happens to them; a knife to the heart is the more silent; but I would have this Geoffry Carlyle left alive to face me.  You will do well to remember.”

“I will pass the word to the men.”

“See that you do.  Then after that,” Sanchez went on deliberately, as though murder was of small account, “you will follow me up the bluff.  Who are the others with you?”

“Carl Anderson, Pedro Mendez, and Cochose.”

“Well chosen; Mendez is the least valuable, and we will leave him with the prisoner at the boat.  The big negro, Cochose, together with Manuel, can attend to Travers, and the two negresses—­they sleep below.  That will leave you and the Swede to get the chest.  No firearms, if they can be avoided.”

“You are certain of the way, Senor—­in the dark?”

“I have been over the house, and drawn a rude diagram.  You can look it over in the cabin of the sloop, after affairs have been attended to there.  The stairs lead up from the front hall.  I will go with you to the door of Fairfax’s room.”

Estada hesitated, as though afraid to further question his chief, yet finally, in spite of this fear, the query broke from his lips.

“And you, Senor—­the girl?”

“What know you of any girl?”

“That there was one on the deck of the sloop—­an English beauty.  It was when you turned to greet her that you gave me the signal.  I merely thought that perhaps—­”

“Then stop thinking,” burst forth Sanchez enraged.  “Thinking has nothing to do with your work.  If there is a girl, I attend to her.  Let that suffice.  Dios! am I chief here, or are you?  You have my orders, now obey them, and hold your tongue.  Bring the men up here.”