On seeing them it was easy to understand the terror with which they must inspire the Spaniards, and the incredible exploits they achieved almost as if in play, reckoning their lives as nothing, and only seeing the object, that is to say, plunder. As they defiled before the governor and the officers elected to command them, they saluted them respectfully, because discipline demanded it, but the salute had nothing low or servile about it, it was that of men fully conscious of their value, and aware that though sailors today, they might, as they liked, be captains tomorrow. Towards midday the crews were complete, and only the Admiral and three captains were still ashore. "Gentlemen," Montbarts said to his officers, "so soon as we are out to sea, each of you will sail as you like; we have but a small stock of provisions on board, but the islands we pass will supply us, do not hesitate to pillage the corales of the Gavachos, for that will be so much taken from the enemy. Hence it is settled that we will each proceed separately to the general meeting place, for prudence urges us not to let the enemy suspect our strength; our meeting place is the northern island of the Grand Key; the first to arrive will await the two others, there I will give you my final instructions about the object of the expedition, of which you already know a part." "So then," said M. de Fontenay, "you insist on keeping your secret?" "If you absolutely demand, sir," Montbart replied, "I will--" "No, no," he interrupted him with a laugh; "keep it, for I do not know what to do with it; besides, I have pretty nearly guessed your secret." "Ah," Montbarts said with an air of incredulity. "Confound it, I am greatly mistaken or you mean to make some attempt on St. Domingo." The adventurer only answered by a crafty smile, and took leave of the governor, who rubbed his hands joyously, for he was persuaded that he had guessed the secret which it was attempted to conceal from him. An hour later the three vessels raised their anchors, set sail, and went off after giving a parting salute to the land, which was immediately answered by the battery at the point. They soon became confounded with the white mist on the horizon, and ere long disappeared. "Well," M. de Fontenay said to his officers as he returned to the government house, "you will see that I am not mistaken, and that this demon of a Montbarts really has a design on St. Domingo. Lord help the Spaniards!" CHAPTER XX. THE HATTO. We will leave the filibustering flotilla steering through the inextricable labyrinth of the Antilles, and transport ourselves to St. Domingo, as the French call it, Hispaniola as Columbus christened it, or Haiti as the Caribs, its first and only true owners, called it.