No doubt much that had been reported was either false, or exaggerated, yet there flashed across my memory numberless tales of rapine, outrage and cold-blooded cruelty in which this demon of the sea had figured, causing me to shudder at the recollection.

To my mind he had long been a fiend incarnate, his name a horror on the lips.

Black Sanchez--and Haley pictured him as a dandified, ordinary appearing individual, with white and red complexion, a small moustache, and flashing dark eyes--a mere Spanish gallant, without special distinction.

Why, that description, strangely enough, fitted almost exactly this fellow on board, this other Sanchez.

I leaned over the edge of my bunk, and looked down on Haley, half resolved to ask if he had ever noticed this lieutenant, but the man was already sound asleep.