The wounded man was immediately picked up by four Freebooters, and gently carried some twenty yards off to an entirely dry spot, where it was impossible for the sea to reach him. The worthy monk then produced a large case bottle of rum, which he uncorked, and after explaining his duty to each, that is to say, after ordering that the temples, wrists, and pit of the stomach should be vigorously rubbed with rum, he bent over him, and opening his jaws, which were tight as a vice, with the blade of his dagger, he poured into his mouth an honest quartern of rum. The effect of this double treatment was not long delayed. In a few seconds the wounded man gave a alight start, opened his eyes feebly, and, gave vent to a sigh of relief. "Ah, ah," said Fray Antonio with a laugh: "what do you think of that, No Ruperto? I fancy your dead man is coming to life again, eh?" "On my word, it is true," the other answered with a grin; "well, that is a man who can flatter himself with having his soul screwed into his body; by Bacchus! If he recover, which I did not yet assert, he can say that he has made a preciously long journey." In the meantime, the friction was continued with the same vigour; the circulation of the blood was rapidly re-established; the Scalper's eyes became less haggard, his features were relaxed, and an expression of comfort spread over his countenance. "Do you feel better?" the monk asked him kindly. "Yes," he answered in a weak, though perfectly distinct voice. "All the better. With the help of Heaven we will get you out of the scrape." By a singular accident, the monk had not yet recognised the man to whom he had himself owed his life a few months previously. The wounds were carefully washed with rum and water, and cleared from the sand and gravel adhering to them; they were then poulticed with pounded oregano leaves, an extremely effective remedy for wounds, and then carefully tied up. "There," the monk continued with an air of satisfaction, "that is finished. I will now have you carried to a spot where you will be much better able than here to enjoy that repose which is indispensable for you after so rude a shock." "Do what you please with me," the wounded man answered with an effort; "I owe you too much to offer the slightest objection." "The more so," Ruperto answered with a laugh, "because it would be perfectly useless; the reverend Father has undertaken your cure, and, whether you like it or no, you must follow his prescriptions."