Stephen pursued him hotly, but the Peruvian was quicker footed, and, dodging among the trees, presently left him behind. Stephen returned to the tent, stirred up the fire to a blaze, and then bent over the captain. He saw at once that the latter was dead, the knife having twice struck him in the region of the heart. Stephen took up one of the loaded muskets and sat down at the entrance of the barricade. He felt completely crushed at the blow. His early suspicions of Jacopo had gradually died out, for the man had worked willingly and steadily; he had seemed perfectly contented with the prospect, and entered as keenly into the building of the cutter as Stephen and the captain had done. But it was evident now that he had all along meditated the murder, and had only delayed until the craft was built and fitted, the gold in its place, and everything ready for sailing save putting the stores on board, which he could manage by himself. [Illustration: “WITH A SHOUT, STEPHEN SNATCHED UP HIS SWORD AND RUSHED AT THE ASSASSIN.”] An hour before everything seemed clear, now Stephen blamed himself that he had prevented the captain from shooting the villain, on the day when the latter discovered that the gold had gone. And yet the act would have been murder, for there was no proof that Jacopo intended to play them false. What, Stephen asked himself, was he to do now? He was certain that the murderer would not permit him, without an effort, to sail away, and that he would be able to hide among the trees, and to spring out at any moment upon him as he came past laden with barrel or sack. It was not even clear how he could get a wink of sleep, for at any moment the assassin might crawl up and stab him. So Stephen passed the night. He watched attentively for the slightest sound, but he did not think that the fellow was likely to return that night, for he was certain that he had wounded him very severely; and besides, the scoundrel would feel sure that he would keep a vigilant watch. As soon as day broke he got up, and went to the tent to verify a thought that had struck him during his watch. He counted the muskets; there were but twenty-two. A cold perspiration broke out on his forehead; his worst fears were realized. Jacopo had managed during the last day or two to take two of the muskets and carry them away with him, so that should his intentions to murder his two companions miscarry, he would be able to wage war against them. He would certainly have provided himself with a good store of ammunition. Difficult as the position had seemed before, the difficulties and dangers were increased tenfold now he knew that the Peruvian was provided with firearms.