The Buccaneer Chief: A Romance of the Spanish Main

"Whatever it may be, brother, coming from you, I shall receive it with pleasure."

"Well, then, carry out your intention. Start at once; tomorrow it will not be pleasant for you in these waters, and I would not answer for your safety or that of your vessel. Do you comprehend me?"

"Perfectly, brother; and for the signal?"

"Light it fifteen days from today, and I will arrange so as to arrive at St. Domingo about that time."

"Very good, brother."

"And now, monk, farewell till we meet again, as it is probable we shall do."

"It is probable, indeed, brother. Farewell, and may the merciful Lord be with you!"

"So be it," the filibuster said, with an ironical laugh.

He gave a parting wave of his hand to the monk, threw his fusil on his shoulder, and went off, but a few minutes after stopped and went back.

The Franciscan had remained motionless at the same spot.

"One last word, father," he said.

"Speak, brother," he answered, gently.

"Take my advice, employ all your power over the lady to induce her to give up this meeting, whose consequences may be terrible."

"I will try impossibilities to succeed, brother," the monk replied; "I will pray to Heaven to permit me to persuade my penitent."

"Yes," Montbarts added, in a gloomy voice, "it would be better for her and for me, perhaps, if we never met again."

And roughly turning his back on the monk, he hurried along the track, where he speedily disappeared.

When Fray Arsenio felt certain that this time the adventurer had really gone, he gently raised the curtain of the tent and stepped inside.

A woman was kneeling there on the bare ground, with her head buried in her hands, and praying with stifled sobs.

"Have I punctually accomplished your orders, my daughter?" the monk said.

The woman drew herself up and turned her lovely pale and tear-swollen face toward the monk.

"Yes, padre," she murmured, in a low and trembling voice. "Bless you for not abandoning me in my distress."

"Is this really the man with whom you desire an interview?"

"Yes, it is he, father."

"And you still insist on seeing him?"

She hesitated for a moment, a shudder ran over her whole person, and then she murmured in a hardly intelligible voice —

"I must, father."

"You will reflect between this and then, I hope," he continued.

"No, no," she said, with a sorrowful shake of the head; "if that man were to plunge his dagger into my heart, I must have a final explanation with him."

"Your will be done," he said

At this moment, a slight sound was heard outside.

The monk went out, but returned almost immediately.

"Get ready, madam," he said; "our crew have come to fetch you. Remember the parting advice that ladrón gave me, and let us be gone as soon as possible."

Without replying, the lady rose, wrapped herself carefully in her mantilla, and went out.

An hour later, she left Nevis, accompanied by Fray Arsenio Mendoza.

Montbarts had reached St. Kitts long before.

CHAPTER XIX

THE EXPEDITION

During the entire passage from Nevis to St. Kitts Montbarts was in a strange state of excitement.

The interview he had held with the monk had rearoused in his heart a profound sorrow which time had deadened but not cauterized, and at the first word that fell in this hour's conversation the wound burst open again, bleeding and livid as on the day of its receipt.

How had this woman, whom he would not name, of whose presence in America he was ignorant, whom, in short, he fancied he had escaped by hiding himself among the filibusters, succeeded in so short a time, not only in learning his presence in the islands, but also in finding him again? For what object did she insist on finding him? What interest could she have in seeing him?

All these questions, which he asked himself in turn, necessarily remained unanswered, and for that very reason augmented his anxiety.

For a moment he thought of laying an ambush in the straits of Nevis and St. Eustache, the two islands between which St. Kitts is situated, capturing the Spanish vessel, and obtaining by torture the information the monk had refused to give him.

But he gave up this plan almost immediately; he had pledged his word of honour, and would not break it for anything in the world.

In the meanwhile, night had set in, and the canoe was still advancing.

Montbarts steered for the lugger, which was anchored a short distance from land.

When the light boat was under the vessel's counter, the filibuster made his engagé a sign to lay on his oars, and shouted in a loud voice —

"Lugger, ahoy!"

At once, a man whose black outline was designed on the dark blue horizon, leant over.

"Boat ahoy!" he shouted.

"Is that you, Bowline?" Montbarts continued.