Early in the following morning--while the insurgent camp was in some confusion consequent upon an unexpected order from the commander-in-chief; and while a strong detachment was getting under arms, not knowing where they were to be conducted--Captain Don Cornelio Lantejas and Costal the Indian were seen gliding silently along the sea-beach in the direction of the fortress. The night was still dark--for it wanted yet two hours to sunrise--and both the town and castle were wrapped in the most profound slumber. The only sounds heard distinctly were the continuous murmuring of the waves as they broke along the beach. The two men, after cautiously advancing towards the black cliff, on which stood the fortress, commenced climbing upward. It was not without much exertion, and danger too, that they at length succeeded in ascending to the bridge of Los Hornos. The Indian now struck a light; and kindling a resin candle, which he carried inside his lantern, he hung the latter to a post that stood near the middle of the bridge, fixing it in such a manner that the light should shine in the direction of the fortress. It was the signal agreed upon by the Gallician; and as their part of the performance was now over, the two men sat down to await the attack which was soon to be made by the General in person. The position which they occupied commanded an extensive view--taking in the town, the castle, and the ocean. Of the three, the last-mentioned alone gave out any sound; and Lantejas, after a time, ceased watching the two former, and involuntarily bent his regards upon the sea. Costal was also turning his eyes upon the great deep, in which everything might also have appeared asleep, but that at intervals a narrow line of light might be seen gleaming along the black surface of the water. "There's a storm in the air," muttered Costal to his companion in a solemn tone of voice. "See, how the sharks are shining in the roadway!" As Costal spoke, half-a-dozen of these voracious creatures, in search of prey, were seen quartering the waters of the bay--crossing each other's course, and circling around, like fireflies over the surface of a savanna. "What think you," continued the _ci-devant tigrero_, "would become of the man who should chance to fall overboard among those silent swimmers? Many a time, for all that, have I braved that same danger--in the days when I followed pearl-diving for my profession." Don Cornelio made no reply, but the thought of being among the sharks at that moment sent a shivering through his frame.