I said no more; it was useless. I was in the man's power. Nothing that I could say or do would alter his purpose. There had been villainy and treachery--and my cousin, Jasper Stapleton, had worked it. I comprehended everything at that moment. I had been lured on board the Spanish vessel and subsequently drugged, in order that Jasper might rid himself of my presence. That was plainly to be seen. But what of the future? The West Indies, I knew, were thousands of miles away. They were in the hands of our hereditary enemies, the Spaniards. From them I should receive scant mercy or consideration. I was penniless--for my money had disappeared--and even if I had possessed money, what would it have benefited me in a savage land like that to which I was being carried? I might wait there many a long year without meeting with an English ship. I turned to the Spaniard. "So I am a prisoner, Senor,--your prisoner?" "My ship and my goods are at your disposal, Senor," he replied. "So long as I do not make any demands upon them, eh?" "Say unreasonable demands, Master Salkeld. As a matter of fact you are free to walk or stand, sit or lie, wake or sleep as you please. I entertain you as I best can until we touch land--and then you go your own way. You have made a contract with me, you have paid your money, and now I have nothing to do but carry out my share of the bargain." "And that is----?" "To take you to the West Indies." "Very good, Senor. Now we understand each other. You will perhaps not object to my telling you, that when I next meet my cousin, Master Jasper Stapleton, I will break his head for his share in this foul conspiracy." "I do not object in the least, Master Salkeld. But you do well to say, when you next meet him." "Why so, Senor?" "Because it is so highly improbable. Indeed, you will never be so near England again as you are at this moment." I looked through the port, and saw the long, flat Lincolnshire coast. The day was dull and heavy, and the land was little more than a gray bank, but it meant much to me. I was being carried away from all that I loved, from my sweetheart, my uncle, my friends, from everything that had grown a part of my daily life. And I was going--where? That I knew not. Not to the West Indies--no, I was sure of that. Captain Manuel Nunez was an accomplished liar in everything, and I felt sure that he had another lie in reserve yet. At the thought of him and of Jasper's villainy the blood boiled in my veins, and tears of rage and despair gathered in my eyes. But what was the use of anger or sorrow? I was powerless.