"That is true," muttered the Englishman, gloomily.
"So as there is no chance of succeeding by violence we shall have to resort to stratagem," continued the Maltese.
"Explain."
"On my way here I noticed that about two miles from the town, at a place marked by a stone cross, there is a steep hill, followed by a no less abrupt descent."
"Well, what of it?"
"We will lie in wait for the carriage about half-way up the hill. It will be moving very slowly as the hill is so steep, and we will suddenly rush out from our hiding-place, and, pretending that we are sailors on our way back to our vessel, ask the captain for aid, you at one door and I at the other. Both of us will have our pistols loaded and our knives in our belts and—"
"Never!" exclaimed Russell, "I am no assassin nor do I desire this man's death. The murder would be a disgrace to England; besides, it would only half avenge me. No, what I want is to enjoy this indomitable man's rage and humiliation when, as our prisoner, he is exposed to the abuse and derision and insults of the multitudes whom his name has so often terrified. No caged tiger ever roared and chafed against confinement more wildly and yet more impotently than he will. Imprisonment in the hulks will be a thousand times more terrible than death to such a man. But the obstinacy of this smuggler ruins all my plans. As they have become impossibilities, what shall we do?"
"Adopt mine," urged the Maltese. "Death may be less cruel than vengeance, but it is much more certain; besides, vengeance is impossible now, but we hold this man's life in our hands. Besides, what difference does it really make about the means we employ so long as England is delivered from one of her most dangerous enemies?"
"Say no more."
"But think of the vessels this man has captured and burned, and of the bloody combats from which he has emerged safe and sound and victorious, too, in spite of greatly inferior numbers!"