"All?" reiterated Hislop, sternly and dubiously.
"All, save myself, senor," replied the other, hesitatingly, and lowering his hollow eyes; "I escaped in the skiff."
"With your dog?"
"Si, Senor."
"In what latitude did this take place?"
Without a moment's hesitation, the Spaniard gave us the latitude and longitude.
"I can't make out this fellow's story in any way," said Hislop, in English. "By the theory and law of storms, we should have had a touch of the same gale which foundered his brig—if such a gale existed. He has deserted, or been marooned. I don't believe a word he says. What is your name?" he asked in Spanish.
"Antonio."
I started on hearing it, for my suspicions were becoming more and more confirmed.
"Antonio. What more?"