"I don't like Spaniards!" was the abrupt exclamation, with which he turned away.
And Ignacio gritted his teeth and simply glared at him, following back and forth his every move, as a cat might.
"I may have a chance yet," he hissed, under his breath. "Carramba, if I only had him by the throat!"
But Clif paid no more attention to the Spaniard. He had other things to attend to, things to keep him busy.
It was not very long before that was especially true. For some interesting events began to happen then.
They began so suddenly that there is almost no way to introduce them. The first signs of the storm was when it broke.
In the blackness of the night nothing could be seen, and the vessel was struggling along absolutely without suspicion. And Clif, as we have said, was walking up and down engrossed in his own thoughts, almost forgetting that he was out in the open sea where a Spanish warship might chance to be lurking.
And so it was literally and actually a thunderbolt from a clear sky.
The blackness of the waters was suddenly broken by a sharp flash of light, perhaps two hundred yards off to starboard.
And an instant later came the loud report of a gun.