And then they fancied them buffeting their way across, blinded by the spray and half swamped by the heavier waves. "They can't be much longer," muttered Clif, impatiently. "Ahoy there! A ladder!" It seemed to come from right underneath the lee of the merchantman. And it was shouted in a loud, peremptory tone that was meant to be obeyed. A moment later the rope ladder was flung down. Clif peered over the side when he dropped it. He could make out the shape of the boat tossing about below; he could even distinguish the figures of the men in the boat. And then he made out a man climbing hastily up. He stepped back to wait for him. He saw a blue uniform as the officer clambered up to the deck. And then suddenly he stood erect, facing Clif. The cadet took one glance at him and gave a gasp of horror. It was a Spanish officer! And he held in one hand a revolver and was aiming it straight at Clif's head. CHAPTER VI. REPELLING BOARDERS. That had been a cleverly managed stroke, and it left the young officer simply paralyzed. All he could do was to stare into the muzzle of that weapon. He realized of course in a flash how he had been duped. And he was in a trap! Half dazed he looked and saw a Spanish sailor in the act of lifting himself up to the deck to join his superior. And Clif had no doubt there were half a dozen others following. There was of course nothing that Clif could do; a movement on his part would have been sheer suicide. He thought the case was hopeless; he had let himself be caught napping. But the cadet had forgotten that there were other Americans on that vessel besides himself. And there were no revolvers threatening the others. The rage of the Yankee tars at what seemed to them a cowardly and sneaking way to capture the ship was too great for them to control. Prudence would have directed surrender, for the Maria had not a gun on board and the Spaniard might blow her out of the water. But nobody thought of that; the same instant the Spanish officer presented his weapon and disclosed his real nationality, there were two sharp cracks in instant succession from the bow of the imperiled ship. And the officer staggered back with a gasp. He dropped his weapon to the deck, reeled for an instant and then vanished over the side in the darkness. There was a moment of horror, and then Clif heard him strike with a thud on the small boat below. At the same time there was a bright flash just in front of Clif, and a bullet whistled past his ear. The Spanish sailor, who had only half reached the deck, had fired at him. By that time there was no longer any hesitation as to what course to pursue. The sailors had decided it by their fatal shots. It was resistance to the death. And Clif whipped out his own weapons and sent the sailor tumbling backward to follow his officer.