There would be but his bare accusation, without a single witness to support it, so a bare denial was all that was necessary, for well he knew that no human eye had seen that encounter by the verge of Acton Chine, in England.
Then there was a memory of Ethel's loathing attitude and averted glance lingering like a barbed arrow in his heart.
"Yes," said he, aloud, "I feel the time at hand when I may requite hate with deeper hate."
"Buenos noches, mi hombre de nada," ("Good night, my rascal, or man of nothing") said a voice in his ear, and, starting from his reverie, he found himself confronted by the tall and muscular figure of Pedro Barradas.
It was night now, and the candle flickered dimly in the lantern of perforated tin, which swung from a beam above, and its downward rays fell on the dark face and picturesque figure of the South American seaman, with his crisp locks and coal-black beard, his tawny ears, in each of which a silver ring was glittering, his loose shirt of dark blue woollen, open at his breast, on which a cross was tattooed, and girt at the waist by a Spanish scarlet sash, in which his Albacete knife was stuck.
A fierce and malicious grin pervaded his sombre features—such a grin as one might imagine in the face of a laughing fiend—as he surveyed the crushed and miserable Hawkshaw, who, being quite unarmed, was not without emotions of terror and alarm.
"You scurvy ladrone," said Pedro, grinding his strong white teeth, "when I remember that evening in the Barranca Secca, between Xalappa and the Puebla de Perote, and the use you made of your lasso, I wonder what devil prevents me from putting my knife into you."
Hawkshaw started back, and glanced hopelessly about for a weapon. Pedro laughed hoarsely; but his merriment did not allay the alarm of Hawkshaw, who knew that such men as he could jest with their victim while the knife was piercing his heart.
"So the air of the cabin has not agreed with you, eh? Well, I daresay you have been worse lodged and fixed in Texas, where some of the huts are no better than a retranche; but I think you had better come forward and hitch in with us."
Hawkshaw still glanced uneasily about him.