A horse was brought, and Señor Alvarez himself rode with Vine and Guert to the seashore, less than ten miles away. That distance was galloped rapidly. A boat was at the beach with a sailor from the _Noank_ in it, and in a minute or so more it had three rowers. Loud and sincere were the last grateful farewells from the señor on the beach. As hearty were the good wishes sent back from the boat, but Guert's heart was thrilling as it had not thrilled during all his peaceful weeks at the Paez plantation. There, yonder, at the mast of his beautiful schooner, floated the stars and stripes, the banner of freedom. There, waiting for him to rejoin them, were his own brave captain and the crew that seemed to him as his kindred. Away out yonder, outside of all these reefs and keys and ledges, was the great ocean. "Hurrah, Vine!" he shouted. "Hurrah for a cruise and fights and prizes!" "We're bound to have 'em!" said Vine. As they pulled along, moreover, he told Guert that one of the sailors of the _Santa Teresa_ had come all the way from Porto Rico in a rowboat to tell Captain Avery a lot of news that the captain had as yet kept to himself. "It looks to me," said Vine, "as if we had some work all cut out for us." "That's what we want," said Guert. "I tell you what, though," said Vine, "the queerest feller on board the schooner is that Dutchman, Groot. He asks after you every now and then. Do you know, he actually ventured to go right into Porto Rico twice. I don't s'pose anybody he saw there suspected him of being a pirate." "Well," said Guert, "he never was one, exactly. Here we are, Vine. I guess I'll have a talk with him." The boat was at the side of the _Noank_, and a score of well-known faces were at the rail. "On board with you!" called out Sam Prentice. "The anchor's comin' in. There's no time to be wasted." Other orders followed, and Guert sprang away to his duties feeling a good deal more like himself than if he were watching slaves in a tobacco-field. Very secure indeed had been that bit of a landlocked harbor on the island coast. Its entrance was a mere narrow canal, so to call it, between dangerous reefs on either side. No deep-draft British vessel could pass through that channel; even the _Noank_ was compelled to take it at high water because of its bars. "Captain Avery," asked Guert, after delivering the messages of good will from his Spanish friends, "didn't you say that the British might have come in and carried the schooner in boats?" "Ye-es, I did," drawled the captain. "That's the reason why I anchored her jest in that spot. I kept a sharp lookout, you see, on that there p'int o' rocks yonder. Our guns were kept trained on this channel, all the time. We were all prepared then to knock their boats to flinders as they got in to about here. Not one of 'em'd ever pulled past this 'ere twist in the channel, when it opens into the lagoon."