We also heard that Antonio was well cared for, as he had discovered one or two friends among the crew, such as the seaman Benito Ojeda, a most villainous-looking, beetle-browed, and squat little Catalonian, who seemed to be the worst character on board, and was engaged in perpetual quarrels.
"As we approach land," said the friar, "it will be necessary to have both these fellows well watched."
"Why?" asked Captain Estremera.
"Lest they plot an escape or mischief for some of their companeros de viage."
Hislop gave me a quick glance as the old Portuguese padre said this; for, of all the persons on board, we had the most reason to dread this fettered fiend getting his hands and feet loose again.
Thus, in our berth in the steerage, I was frequently haunted by visions of wreck and danger—of sharks opening their jaws to devour me—of being thrown overboard—of being again marooned on that wild and lonely island, where no sound of life met the ear, save the chafing of the waves upon the shore, the hum of insects, and the rustle of the falling leaves in the solitary woods.
But chiefly Antonio was ever before me, like a tormenting spirit or the monster-man of "Frankenstein."
I was ever engaged in fighting with him, or escaping from him; and so strong was this idea, that I always kept by my side, at night, the sword with which I had wounded him when he attempted to cut me off before reaching Hislop's boat.
Then I would lie awake for hours thinking of the home to which the ship was bearing me, but which I might be fated never to see, and watching from my berth the square patch of blue and star-studded sky through the open hatchway, listening the while to the hum of the wind through the mizzen rigging, the pattering of the long rows of reef-points on the sails, and at times, when looking up, I could see the little round trucks that seemed to pierce the starry welkin. Then, when about to drop asleep, I would start to instant wakefulness, lest the feet of some one, coming down the ladder close by, might be those of Antonio—of the assassin escaped from the bilboes!
One evening Hislop and I were in the second dog-watch; we had just had our coffee below with the captain, the old Dutch Governor of Surabaya, Fra Anselmo, and other passengers, and had come on deck as four bells struck.