But the ropes with which he was secured were strong and well knotted. Bark was a good sailor, and he had done this part of the work. He looked over the fastenings, and made sure that they were all right.
“He can’t get loose, Mr. Raimundo,” said he.
“But Juan is beginning to come to his senses,” added the second master. “He has just turned half over.”
“I hope he is not much hurt: we may get into a scrape if he is.”
“I was just thinking of that. But I don’t believe he is very badly damaged,” added Raimundo. “If the old man can’t get away, suppose you look him over, and see what his condition is.”
Bark complied with this request. Filipe seemed to be interested in this inquiry; and he lay quite still while the examination was in progress. The young sailor found a wound and a considerable swelling on the side of Juan’s head; but it was now so dark that he could not distinctly see the nature of the injury.
“Have you a match, Mr. Raimundo?” he asked.
“I have not. We were not allowed to have matches on board the Tritonia,” replied the second master.
“Tengo pajuelas,” said Filipe. “Una linterna en el camarote de proa.”