The slaves slept. Being, for the most part, without hope of anything better than a few hours of forgetfulness between the sun-setting and the dawn, the majority gave themselves willingly and thankfully to slumber as soon as the scanty supper was eaten. No flash of a sentinel's lantern, no tramping of feet, no cry of nocturnal bird or beast would waken them; they sank into sleep as into some deep, soundless, lightless pit. God rest all such unhappy ones! The sentry showed no signs of paying any further visit; the captain was ashore. Hernando slipped from his seat, cautiously wakened the fourth English sailor, and gave him a file with whispered instructions; then he passed on to a trustworthy fellow-countryman of his own and gave him the other. He came back to his bench, and waited for about another quarter of an hour. "Now," he whispered to his two companions. He dropped to the floor and crawled on all fours to the after-part of the ship. No one else moved. After what seemed almost an endless time, he crawled back again. "The way is clear; not three men are awake above our heads. I'll take the Indians; they move as noiselessly as cats." The Spaniard went to the fore-part of the ship, and three Indians behind him in single file. The other three moved stealthily from bench to bench and awoke their fellows. Hardly a sound had been made. The three sailors from the _Golden Boar_ and Master Jeffreys crawled above deck; Morgan remained in command below. Minutes passed. A slight sound of a scuffle, a cry, came faintly from the fore-deck. Then dead silence fell again. Time flew on. The tide was beginning to run out; the galley swung with it. The Indians, stolid enough as a rule, began to fidget on their seats. A lantern appeared at the fore end of the rowers' pit. Jeffreys came along. "Well?" asked Morgan anxiously. "Ugh! an ugly business. Not a man lives of the crew or guard in the fore-part of the vessel. Hernando's knives and Indian fingers have done their deadly work. Are all awake?" "Not the Europeans." "Awaken them; here's a hammer and chisel; get their chains off. Hernando and his Indians are gone to the after-deck to block up the cabin doors. Our three boys are at the anchor. Keep this lantern. We have padded the hawse-hole, but there'll be some noise getting the anchor up. Have the rowers ready for my signal." There was soon clatter and even clamour amongst the slaves, and Morgan had much ado to keep the wilder ones from shouting and running on deck. One Spaniard who tried to do so, intent upon robbery, was promptly knocked down. "You're not safe yet," cried Johnnie; "you're still in harbour and under the fort guns; you'll sit down and row, or go overboard to the sharks." The fellow poured out a torrent of foul language, but the Englishman's fist was hard, his own oar-comrades were against him, so he sat down and made ready for work. "Ready?"--Jeffreys' voice. "Yes." The anchor rattled on the deck.