It was about five o’clock in the evening that George was awakened by a light touch upon his shoulder, and, springing up, he found Lukabela bending over him with his finger to his lips.
“What is it, chief?” demanded George in a whisper.
“Come and see,” replied the Cimarrone in an equally guarded tone of voice; whereupon George arose and, led by the black, noiselessly quitted the sleeping camp and made his way to a small knoll in the open, commanding a fairly comprehensive view of the city and roadstead.
As the pair crept cautiously to the summit of the knoll and peered over it, Lukabela pointed with his finger and murmured “Behold!” And, looking in the direction toward which the chief was pointing, George beheld a noble and stately galleon standing in toward the anchorage with ensigns and pennons flying from her mastheads, and with a large galley acting as escort to her. The galleon was an exceptionally large vessel, being, as Saint Leger estimated, of fully five hundred tons measurement. She showed a double tier of ordnance, besides sakers, falcons, falconettes and serpentines on her poop and fore and after castles. She was painted a deep golden yellow, with broad white bands along her two tiers of gun ports, and there was, in accordance with the Spanish fashion of the times, a tremendous amount of decorative gilding about her bows and quarters; her sails also were decorated with paintings, though what subjects were represented it was impossible to distinguish at that distance.
“A plate ship, loaded with silver from Lima, without a doubt,” whispered Lukabela. “I saw her appear round yonder headland about half an hour ago, and I thought you would be interested.”
“I am,” replied George emphatically, bringing his glass to bear upon the craft, and he watched her as she gradually drifted in toward the anchorage, while Lukabela kept a look-out to guard against their being surprised by passers by.
Slow and stately the great galleon crept toward the roadstead, impelled by the dying sea-breeze, and at length, as the wind dropped altogether and the waters of the bay became a flawless mirror reflecting the gorgeous tints of a flaming sunset, she dropped her ponderous anchor about half a mile from the shore; her gaily painted sails were slowly clewed up and furled; the galley went alongside and received several richly dressed persons from the galleon, including some three or four in full suits of armour, and then pushed off and pulled toward the quay, churning the placid waters of the bay into foam with the long, regular strokes of her sixty oars, finally ranging up alongside and mooring to the wharf, when the passengers from the galleon and some twenty other persons, who were probably the officers of the galley, landed and disappeared among the streets of the city.
Then George Saint Leger arose from his place of concealment among the long grass at the summit of the knoll, thinking deeply, and made his way back to the camp, accompanied by the Cimarrone chief. As they entered the camp George turned to his black companion and said:
“My thanks to you, Lukabela, for arousing me. The sight you showed me was well worth looking at. Please God, before twelve hours are past that ship and her cargo shall be mine; ay, and the galley too. For who knows but that somebody aboard her may be able to give me news of my brother.”
The great bell of Panama cathedral was booming out the hour of midnight, and its sonorous strokes came floating slowly and subdued by distance to the camp of the English adventurers as the sturdy band, having partaken of a hearty supper, formed up into marching order prior to leaving their place of concealment. A strong scouting party of Cimarrones had been thrown forward in advance to guard against surprise, and as George completed his inspection of weapons and equipment the cry of a nightjar coming from the extreme distance and repeated ever nearer by the line of scouts told that the way was clear and that the column might begin its advance.