That they were coming was soon plain. Sampayo roused the man he had spoken to; and the answer was in Vasco’s voice, thick with drink.
“Go on deck, you young fool, and see if there are any signs of the launch. They ought to be here by now.”
“Leave me alone,” grunted Vasco thickly.
“I must go myself then,” was the reply with an oath.
I slipped away forward and hid myself under the lee of the forecastle hatchway. Sampayo came out on deck and stood smoking and listening and peering through the darkness for the expected launch.
Presently, I heard the quick throb of her propeller, and in a few minutes she reached the yacht and three or four men, I could not distinguish the exact number, came on board, and all went down below at once.
Anxious not to miss a word of what passed I hastened along the deck to my former position, and had just passed the hatchway leading below to the saloon when some one came running up the companion way.
In a second I rolled into the scuppers lying as still as death.
“I fastened her all right,” protested some one.
“For Heaven’s sake, make sure. You’re not much of a hand at sailors’ knots,” was the laughing reply.