Ray and I were escorted down the companionway into the cabin of the Orion, and were thrust into a room on the port side. A pair of blacks cut away the cords from our arms; and when they went out we heard a bolt pushed home in the door.

"We travel in style," observed Ray, surveying the pair of bunks, one above the other. "Let's see," he continued, "does your ticket call for an upper or a lower?"

A small, round, glazed porthole gave light, and a porcelain wash-bowl with faucets was fixed in the wall.

"And even a bathtub," said Ray, fingering the piece. "It's almost like being back on the Pearl again."

We were waited on by the blacks, who brought our food. The day passed uneventfully; though we spent much time at the porthole (which we finally succeeded to open, or we must have stifled) we saw not so much as a sail, nor a glimpse of the land. This last would be explained either on the score that the island lay on the other—the starboard—side, or that the Orion had sailed out of view of the land. She might even be on a course to the west, going back home again, now. It was not till the stars were out that this point was settled. It was by those twinklers we learned we were on an eastern course.

The next morning we got a view of the land. It was just after the Orion had gone about on the starboard tack. The mountains loomed up but four or five miles away. And while the vessel slowly came up into the wind, I eagerly scanned the horizon for a sail that should seem to be the Pearl. But there was no ship of any kind in view. My heart sank. Could it be that after all they had not ferreted out our secret message?

The day following, sometime before noon, we heard sounds of excitement on the vessel. And we heard Duran's voice; "cussing in French," Ray said he was doing.

We got to the porthole.

"They must have got sight of the Pearl," I said. Our hopes were high. Even on the starboard tack, we saw nothing but the sea, now fallen almost calm.

A half hour passed; we were again at the porthole.

"There she is!" cried Ray and I together. The Pearl was in view.

Soon the wind was on us, as we could hear; and it grew dark. There was much scurrying on the deck overhead. Spray began to come in through our porthole, and we must close it. We could see birds rushing by. Our course was changed; no longer could we see the Pearl. The roar of the storm increased every moment.

"It must be a hurricane," said Ray.

At last we saw land close by our porthole. Directly, we were in lee of it, and we heard the anchor go overboard.

"Well, we're in some kind of a harbor," I told Ray.

"But where's the Pearl?" returned he.

"I hope she'll make the same harbor," I said.

The storm blew over, and broad daylight came once more. We watched continually at the window of our prison; but while we saw land all about, beaches and palms, and hills beyond, no vessel showed to us. If the Pearl were near she must be off our starboard. But we were not left long in doubt.

The bolt clicked, and our door opened. Duran appeared, and four blacks, who set to work to bind our arms again to our sides. We were led up on deck.

There lay the Pearl, some hundreds of yards away. My heart jumped at sight of her.

Accompanied by Duran, we were hurried over the side into a boat, which set off immediately toward a beach to the south-east. We could see our friends but imperfectly on the deck of the Pearl, where their figures moved about in some hurry.

We were nearing the shore when we saw a boat put off from the Pearl. Then a second boat moved out from the Orion, filled with blacks, bearing guns. A few minutes, and we were startled by the boom of an explosion, and smoke rose from the Pearl.

My heart sank. But then I saw the blacks in the water, and their boat seemed knocked to bits. The smoke dispersed, and I saw the Pearl as right as ever.

"They've got a cannon," murmured Ray in my ear. "That is Norris."

The blacks swam toward the Orion. Duran gazed, rage in his look; and he swore roundly. He directed the men to a hurried landing. We were hustled out, pushed in among the cocoa palms, thence back into the brush. We came to a stop, and the four blacks, leaving their two guns with Duran, went back. It was doubtless to pull the boat up into concealment; for they soon appeared again, and the march was taken up.

What direction we went I had no means of knowing, but the ground gradually rose, and we came to where the undergrowth was less dense. This proved an agreeable change—if anything in our situation could be called agreeable, for in the briars and brush, Ray's and my arms fast, as they were, we could not protect our faces from the growth, that whacked and scratched us, as we were pushed hurriedly forward.

At last, after some casting about, Duran had the blacks get down on their hands and knees and literally drag the two of us into a most dense thicket, Duran going before, cutting a way. Many yards we went thus, scraping the ground; and we were finally dropped at the foot of a great tree which appeared to stand alone in the midst of the thicket. Here was a small space free of thicket growth; knives removed encroaching pieces of growth. Bags of food, that had been hanging by the necks of the blacks, were transferred to the low-hanging limbs of the trees, and preparations were made for some stay.

Duran crawled out of the place again, doubtless to reconnoiter.

Ray called after him as he started off on hands and knees—"Hey' there! You!" Duran stopped and looked back. "Don't be late back for supper," continued Ray.

Duran cursed him and went, upon which Ray turned with a serious face on one of the blacks, he that spoke English, and said, "Your boss' Sunday School education has been neglected. What do you say we start a mission right here?"

The black grinned. It was not his first experience of Ray's drollery.

We had indeed cause for cheer—knowing that our friends were so near to us. I was now sure that they had fathomed our hidden message. We felt confident, too, that Duran would not attempt again to get us away on board the Orion; and that one way or another we would win back to the Pearl. Ray and I contrived to talk on these things, by veiling our speech beyond the comprehension of that one black listener.

"And where do you think they got their dog?" said Ray, meaning, of course, the barker—cannon.

"Back in that town, of course," I returned. "I've no doubt if we'd have gone sight-seeing, we'd found many old dogs of that species on the tumble-down ramparts."

"Just like Norris," said Ray. "And I suppose the 'skunk's' new game of 'pussy wants a corner' is like the old one."

"Yes," I said. "When they're off hunting for this new corner, he's got Ray and Wayne in, the 'skunk' means to make after that hole of his without company."

And so on we continued.

The black man listened to our talk, eyes large with noncomprehension. He, of course, could not know that "skunk" was Norris' pet name for Duran.

That our friends would immediately be searching the island for us, we had not the least doubt. That they had seen us in the boat making shoreward, and had put off in a boat, to intercept the blacks and rescue us, was a thing plain enough. We understood well that that cannon-shot—that had found its mark with such telling effect—was sent to destroy the boat full of blacks that had left the Orion to reinforce the blacks in our boat.

That our friends would have great difficulty to find us amongst all this jungle growth was certain. But now what would Duran contrive, to accomplish his purpose? He was intelligent enough to know that however securely he might truss and gag us, there was no assurance that we might not succeed to worm out of our bonds and get to the Pearl, before the Orion should be far enough away to insure against our catching up with him again. Would he leave some of his blacks to guard us? None would agree to this; for it would mean nothing less than finally to fall into the hands of our party. Who among them would have the stomach for that—particularly in view of that gold that lay at the other end of the rainbow?

There was no fire made for supper, which was eaten cold. Ray and I had our arms freed by the blacks, who put the cords on our legs. It was a great relief to have the use of our hands again, for we had become infested by "chiggers"—wee red insects that burrowed into our skins, causing severe itching and pain. Therefore it was little sleep we got when night came. The blacks were not free of the pests, and so we had four waking guards; and two guns between them to discourage ideas we had of escape.

The moon was well down behind the trees when Duran came crawling back. He had a strange white man with him. I got no proper look at the man in the dark, but his voice and manner put no encouragement in my heart. That he was some sort of scoundrel was not hard to perceive.

"Here they are," spoke Duran, in a low tone.

"Well," returned the man, "shake yourself, and let's get out o' this."

In two minutes we were being dragged out of the thicket again. Silently, and with some hurry, the party stumbled through the woods. When I got a view of the stars, I perceived that we were making in an easterly direction. In less than an hour a halt was made. We were still in the forest, but I could hear the surf not far off, and so knew we were close to water.

There was a tent under the trees, and four other white men came forward. The blacks squatted on the ground, Ray and I between them. Duran was in colloquy with one of the whites.

"There's no use wastin' yer breath on that, I'm tellin' ye," said the man. "We don't sail away from here. We got business here that's pressin'. Five thousan' ain't temptin' us, with others on the island."

"Yes, but I give five t'ousand more if you keep them one week," said Duran. "And—"

"Now looky here," interrupted the other. "It's no use. Besides we got as purty a little place to hide them in, the devil himself couldn't find them. We don't sail away with them, that's sure as shootin'. It's just a thousand apiece down, we hold them a week, and if you succeed, it's a thousand apiece more, when you come back in a month, that's all there is to it. Now mush along after the spondulicks afore it's daylight an' too late, or maybe their friends has got some gold, and—"

"No—No!" said Duran. "They can never have what I have. When I come back I breeng ten thousand—you see!"

Duran and the four blacks were soon gone, and Ray and I had new keepers. One of the five white men remained by us, while the other four moved off out of ear-shot for some sort of discussion. Ray sought to talk with our guard, but he would have none of it.

"Shut your palaver!" he ordered. And he made a threatening gesture.

Within two hours Duran appeared. Then came the counting of money, in bills and gold, in the light of the lantern. Each white man took his own share, and smacked his lips over it.

"You keep them one week," said Duran, then. "I come back in one month, and I give you ten thousand, maybe more if I succeed well."

And he was off again in the dark forest.