All that evening he and Rosa cowered in the darkness, whispering furtively, their nerves on edge, their senses strained.  It seemed to them that new and unsuspected perils stalked abroad through the night.

Morning found all hands more nearly rational and feeling the first gnawings of a healthy hunger.  Even Asensio confessed to a quite miraculous improvement.  While Evangelina prepared breakfast the lovers agreed upon a story to explain the origin of that mysterious gold piece, and later Johnnie warned Jacket for a second time to keep his tongue between his teeth.

“We will have to be doubly careful now,” he told the boy.  “An unguarded word or an incautious move would be the end of us.”

Jacket nodded his complete comprehension.  “Sure!  All Spaniards are robbers and they’d kill us for a peso.  Yes, and the pacificos are no better.  I tell you we need to get out of this place.”

“I intend to arrange it at once, but—­the sight of those jewels has frightened me.  If we are searched—­if we are even suspected—­”

“Oh, Rosa wouldn’t have any more use for her pretty trinkets.  She’d be in heaven before you could scratch your nose.”

O’Reilly frowned.  “She isn’t at all strong yet.  I’m wondering if she can endure the hardships we’ll encounter when, or if, we get away.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.  I’ve been considering another plan.”

“Indeed?” O’Reilly scanned the face of his young friend with interest.  He was beginning to have a high regard for Jacket’s capabilities, and the boy’s exploit of the night before certainly entitled him to be heard upon any subject.

“I told you about my friend at the market,” the latter continued.  “Well, he is a miserable Spaniard, but he has a son in the manigua.”

“One of us?” Johnnie was surprised.

“Yes.  The old fellow owns a volandra in which he brings charcoal from the eastward twice a month.”

There was a moment of silence; then O’Reilly said, slowly, as if hesitating even to voice such a suggestion, “You mean—­he might take us out of here—­on his schooner?”

“Who knows?  He’s not a bad old fellow and he likes me.  But there would be no place for women.”

“How well does he like you?”

“Oh, we are like two thieves.”

After another period of thought O’Reilly said, “Take me to him, and remember I’m your brother Juan.”

The Matanzas market did not present a scene of great activity when the two friends slunk into it.  It was midday, and what food had earlier been offered for sale had for the most part long since disappeared.  All but a few of the stalls were empty, and a number of emaciated reconcentrados were searching listlessly among them for neglected scraps, or imploring aid from such marketmen as still lingered about.  Like most Spanish markets, the building was far from clean and housed odors unpleasant even to starving people.  In the smelliest section, at one of the fish-stalls, Jacket accosted a villainous old brigand in a rough Gallego cap, baggy blouse and trousers, and straw sandals.