And his dark, beady eyes were glittering with hatred as he crouched in his momentary hiding-place. He was quivering all over with rage; the muscles of his sinewy arms were clinched and tense. And in his right hand he clutched a sharp, gleaming knife, half hidden under his coat. His glance was fixed on the figure just in front of him; the unsuspecting cadet was not twenty yards away, his back turned to his crouching enemy. And Ignacio bent forward to listen and wait his chance. The cadet, the object of his hatred, was talking to the captain. "The senor takes possession," the latter repeated again. "The senor does, with your permission," said Clif, quietly. "You gave us quite a run," he added, after a moment's thought. "A Spaniard would not surrender to Yankee pigs without a fight," snarled the other. "You had best be a bit careful," was Clif's stern response, "or you may find yourself in irons." The Spaniard relapsed into a sullen silence. "What ship is this?" demanded the cadet. "The Maria." "From where?" "Cadiz." "Indeed! And bound where?" "Bahia Honda." Clif gave a low whistle. "We caught you about in time," he said, with a smile. "You were nearly there. But I suppose the story is made up for the occasion. What is your cargo?" The captain went over quite a list of articles; the sailors who were with Clif chuckled with delight as they heard him. "We get a share in all this," Clif heard one of them whisper under his breath. Clif smiled; and as soon as the captain finished he raised his arm and pointed to the stern of the vessel. "You and your men will go aft," he commanded, "for the present; I will see you shortly." The Spaniard was on the point of obeying; he had half turned, when suddenly with a single bound the treacherous Ignacio sprang forward. His keen knife glanced in the air as he raised it in his outstretched arm and leaped upon the unsuspecting cadet. Ignacio was clever at that sort of thing. He had tried it before; his spring had been silent as a cat's. Neither the sailors nor the officer heard him. And the blow might have fallen; Clif's only warning of his deadly peril. But unfortunately for the desperate assassin, he had failed to let the captain of that vessel know what he meant to do. And the captain, as he saw him leap, realized in a flash that would mean an instant hanging for him. And a look of horror swept over his face; Clif saw it and whirled about. He was just in time to find himself face to face with his deadliest enemy; and the knife was hissing through the air. CHAPTER IV. IN COMMAND OF THE PRIZE. It was a moment of horrible peril. Clif's blood fairly froze. But quick as a flash his arm shot up. And he caught the descending wrist; for an instant the two glared into each other's eyes, straining and twisting. And then the two sailors of the Uncas leaped forward and seized the baffled Spaniard.