Some forty sailors, who were well armed, like their predecessors, let themselves down, one after the other, by a rope that hung over the taffrail, and got into a second boat, which Master Lovel had ordered to be quietly got ready, and of which he took the command. He started at once, and steered after the Captain's pinnace, whose direction he was pretty well acquainted with, saying every now and then to the rowers, in order to increase their speed, "Give way, my lads, give way, all!" and he added, as he chewed his enormous quid, with a cunning smile, "It was very likely I should let my old fellow have his face scored by those brigands of Mexicans, who are all as crafty as caimans." So soon as he had left the ship, the Captain, leaving on his right hand a small fishing village, whose lights he saw flashing through the darkness, steered for a jutting-out point, where he probably hoped to disembark in safety. After rowing for about three-quarters of an hour, a black line began to be vaguely designed on the horizon in front of the boat. The Captain gave his men a sign to rest on their oars for a moment, and taking up a long night glass, he carefully examined the coast. In two or three minutes he shut up the glass again, and ordered his men to give way. All at once the keel of the pinnace grated on the sand: they had reached land. After hurriedly exploring the neighbourhood, the crew leaped ashore, leaving only one man as boat keeper, who at once pushed off, so as not to be captured by the enemy. All was calm, and a solemn silence reigned on the coast, which was apparently deserted. The Captain having assured himself that, for the present, at any rate, he had nothing to fear, concealed his men behind some rocks, and then addressed Tranquil. "It is now your turn, old hunter," he said. "Good!" the latter replied, not adding another word. He left his hiding place, and walked forward, with a pistol in one hand, and a tomahawk in the other, stopping at intervals to look around him, and listen to those thousand sounds, without any known cause, which at night trouble the silence, though it is impossible to guess whence they come, or what produces them. On getting about one hundred yards from the spot where the landing was effected, the hunter stopped, and began gently whistling the first strains of a Canadian air. Another whistle answered his, and finished the tune he had purposely broken off. Footsteps were heard, and a man showed himself. It was Quoniam, the Negro. "Here I am," he said. "Where are your men?" "Hidden behind the rocks close by." "Call them up, for we have not a moment to lose." Tranquil clapped his hands twice, and a moment later the Captain and his men had rejoined him. "Where is the person we have come to deliver concealed?" the Captain asked. "At a rancho about two miles from here. I will lead you to it."