stern I made out her name, Viscount, and her home station, Cadiz.
The lantern was now used, being swung around in a circle half a dozen times. A return signal came from the ship, and as we moved closer a rope ladder was thrown down. Fortunately the sea was almost calm, so nobody had any difficulty in getting aboard. Oliver demurred a little at going ahead, but Ramon Delverez threatened to throw him overboard, and looked as if he meant what he said.
Once on deck, I saw that the Viscount was a "tramp" ship—that is, one going from port to port, picking up whatever cargo could be found. But I was not allowed any time in which to speculate on the matter. My gag and Oliver's were taken from us and our hands were freed. Then we were taken to an open hatch forward and dumped below as though we were two sacks of salt. Immediately afterward the hatch was closed over us, and we were left in utter darkness.
For several minutes neither of us spoke. Fortunately we had landed on some soft bagging, so no bones were broken. It was Oliver who ended the silence.
"If we weren't in a pickle before we are now," he remarked gloomily.
"That's true, Oliver. But 'while there is life there is hope,' so don't be downcast."
