Captain Brookes, at the head of his staff, advanced to meet the royal visitor. Bowing profoundly he uttered a few words of welcome and led the way toward the cabin.
Clif, after one quick glance at the king, again turned his attention to Cate, the Englishman.
The fellow had stepped back, crouching behind the group of absorbed spectators, but his face was plainly visible.
The expression of implacable hatred upon it sent a flood of light through Clif’s mind, and he involuntarily advanced a pace from the gun.
“Get back there,” came sternly from the petty officer in charge. “What do you mean by——”
He stepped back aghast.
There was a sharp cry, a shrill note of warning, then a clamor of excited voices sounded through the ship.
A figure clad in cadet blue was seen to leave the after starboard gun and with one great leap reach the side of Dom Carlos.
It was Clif!