The fore-topmast of the brig furnished a suitable mast, and was stepped and stayed; a bowsprit, boom, and gaff were constructed from the light spars; a mainsail, a foresail, and jib had been manufactured during the long evenings; and when the boat was completely rigged, the timbers down which she was to glide were smeared with lard, and carried down as far as possible under water, being kept in their places by heavy stones placed on the ends. It was a great day when the shores were knocked away, the ropes that held her stern being previously cast off, and she at once moved rapidly down into the water amid a shout of triumph from her constructors. She drew about three feet of water, and they calculated that when they had got the ballast, stores, and water on board she would sink another foot, and would then have three feet of free-board. They had already laid in a large stock of pork, which they had salted, obtaining the salt by filling pools in the rock with salt water, which was replenished as fast as it evaporated. A great stock of melons had also been cut. The barrels had been carefully examined, and placed in the lake to swell and become water-tight. Now that the boat was once in the water they were anxious to be off without the smallest possible delay, for were the natives to appear just at this moment all their labours would be thrown away. As soon, therefore, as they had gone on board, and found that the craft was perfectly water-tight, they hauled her towards the spot where they had buried the gold, dug up the boxes, and carried them down to the water’s edge. The boat was then hauled in until she was in four feet of water. Stephen and Jacopo waded out, carrying the boxes on their heads, then the captain lifted them on board, and, taking them below, packed them along her keel. By this time it was late in the afternoon, and they calculated that by beginning at daybreak, they would get the greater portion of their stores and water on board next day. It was a moonlight night, and, after indulging in supper and a long talk over the next day’s work, they lay down to sleep. It was some time before Stephen fell into a light sleep, being too excited at the thought of their approaching deliverance to compose himself to a sound slumber. He was awakened by a slight movement, and, turning round, saw in the moonlight Jacopo kneeling by the captain with a knife uplifted. With a shout Stephen sprung up, grasped his sword, which he had, ever since the gold was hidden, placed by his side when he lay down, and rushed at the Peruvian. The knife had, however, descended twice, and the assassin gained his feet just as Stephen fell upon him. So quick had been the latter’s movement that the edge of his sword fell on the side of the murderer’s face before he had time to place himself on guard. With a howl of pain and rage he sprang out from the end of the tent, and rushed to the narrow opening left in their barricade.