So Joey was fastened up, much against his will, and his piteous protests no longer added to the girl’s agony. She clung to the after rail, and watched the boat, now a tiny dot hard to discern amidst the ripples caused by the inflowing tide. Her intimate acquaintance with the daily happenings of life aboard told her that Courtenay had chosen the last hour of flood for his effort, thus gaining the advantage of the ebb in the event of the life-boat’s being pursued by canoes on the return journey. By degrees, a tender little sprig of hope peeped up in her dulled consciousness. The boat was very near the distant rocks, and there was neither sight nor sound of the Indians. Could it be that they were afraid—altogether broken and demoralized by the slaughter of the preceding night? How quickly the acts of this drama shifted their scenes! Sixteen hours ago, she and Christobal were actually participating in the defense of the ship’s last stronghold; now, the broad decks resembled the inner spaces of some impregnable fort, while the war was being carried into the enemy’s territory. Yet the mortal peril which overshadowed them was threatening as ever. Life seemed to be doled out grudgingly, by minutes. Suddenly she had a breathless desire to know why Courtenay was so sure that the men to whose help he had gone were really members of the crew. Christobal, dreading her despairing questions, was standing in the position he had occupied before Boyle dragged him into prominence. The chief officer was bracing a telescope against the ensign staff, and keeping the lifeboat in a full field. Gray, she noticed, was not looking towards Guanaco Hill, but swept all parts of the coastline constantly with his binoculars. The Spaniard’s field-glasses were slung around his neck. He was not using them. He appeared to be deep in thought. More often than not, his glance rested on the eddy created by the swirl of the current past the ship’s quarter. With a species of divination, she guessed somewhat the nature of his reverie. The notion stung her into a sort of fury. To quell it, she must speak again. “Will you tell me now what it was that Suarez found out?” she murmured.