He did not linger.
One ejaculatory Spanish swear word from the ascending figure as he swooped down upon him gave Roderic a pretty good idea as to his identity.
Wretched Roblado, fated to again endure all the flings of outrageous fortune at the hands of the man from over the sea!
Roderic halted not neither to assist the damaged Spaniard to arise nor to offer apologies for such unceremonious conduct.
At such times men cannot be particular as to their modus operandi in conducting their retreat—the end justifies the means.
Happily he had not been at all injured by the fall.
He heard an anxious exclamation skyward and had a glimpse of Georgia looking over the edge of the upper deck.
It was just like the man to wave his hand and even kiss his fingers to the girl ere resuming his course toward the spot where in all probability Captain Beven anxiously awaited his coming.
A splash announced the launching of a boat.
It was fortunately on the other side of the steamer, since Jerome had gone over to port.