Saying this, he separates from them, and hurries back down the gorge.
The Sydney Ducks, left standing by the staff, more than ever wonder at what he has said, and interrogate one another as to his meaning.
In the midst of their mutual questioning, they are attracted by a cry strangely intoned. It is from Gomez, who has brought down the telescope, and holds it in hands that shake as with a palsy.
“What is it?” asks Padilla, stepping up to him.
“Take the glass, Rafael Rocas. See for yourself!”
The contrabandista does as directed.
He is silent for some seconds, while getting the telescope on the strange vessel. Soon as he has her within the field of view, he commences making remarks, overheard by Striker and Davis, giving both surprise—though the latter least.
“Barque she is—polacca-masts. Carramba! that’s queer. About the same bulk, too! If it wasn’t that we’re sure of the Condor being below, I’d swear it was she. Of course, it can be only a coincidence. Santissima! a strange one!”
Velarde, in turn, takes the telescope; he, too, after a sight through it, expressing himself in a similar manner.
Hernandez next—for the four Spaniards have all ascended to the hill.