"Whereby we shall make sure of her capture," exclaimed Roger. "A good thought, Peter, and the order shall be given. Tell all the crew to spring for the rail and fight their way on to the deck, Teotlili. Let them desert this craft, for it will be useless. Ah! the distance grows less. That ruffian is about to fire." He pointed to the bows of the brigantine, to the figure posted there, now without doubt that of Alvarez. He was peering over the rail again, waiting for the craft to come to closer quarters, and the smoke of his port-fire could be seen as he blew upon it. "For the god of air!" he shouted out, catching sight of Roger and waving the brand. "This will send him quicker to his end than would the stroke of a dagger. One minute and he and his men will be blown from the water." He shook his fist at the approaching canoe, and then bent to his sights again. "Put us over a little," said Roger, quietly, touching Peter's arm to attract his attention. "Now, Teotlili, let the men stop rowing." Paddles were at once drawn from the water, while the way on the craft allowed her to be steered to one side. She shot to the left, while the brigantine held on her course. Almost at the same moment Alvarez blew on his port-fire again and applied it to the vent, sending a charge of small shot tearing through the air, to strike the surface of the lake within a few feet of the canoe. "Row, and put us over again," shouted Roger. "That is right. She will strike us within a minute, and we must climb. Put her nose up as the brigantine gets close, and then she will not roll us over." There was a moment of confusion while the orders were carried out. But Peter was an excellent seaman, and had been in dangerous work before. He held his tiller firmly, beckoned to the rowers to give a few strokes with their paddles, and then, just as the stem of the brigantine bore up for the broadside of the craft, he put his helm over again, causing the enemy's vessel to sail smoothly alongside.