You are here now by his orders and will remain until you consent to his purpose--all that remains for you to decide is whether you choose to be prisoner, or guest aboard." Her questioning, perplexed eyes turned from face to face, as though she could not grasp fully the purpose of what was said.
"He--he is still alive--this Captain Sanchez ?" "Yes, with a chance to survive." "And if he lives I am to be at his disposal ?" "He is the chief here; his will is law aboard." "And if he should die ?" Estada shrugged his shoulders indifferently.
"Who knows!" Her lips tightened as though to hold back a cry while one hand pressed to the open door steadied her.

The cheeks were no longer flushed, and there was a look in the searching eyes I did not like to see.

It was a moment before she could control her voice.
"I have heard them call you Estada," she said finally, determined to learn the whole truth.

"Of what rank in this company are you ?" "I am Pedro Estada, formerly the first officer, now, by occasion of Captain Sanchez's wound, in full command.

These are two of my officers--Senor Gates, one of your own countrymen, and Manuel Estevan." "You are pirates ?" He laughed unpleasantly, as though the word had an ugly sound even to his ears.
"Rather call us sea rovers, Senorita.