Summary

Portrait of Max Pemberton Max Pemberton The Sea Wolves — XXV. THE SECOND PERIL OF THE CREEK (1901)

The boat was now very near to the tunnel's mouth, yet so perfect was the silence of the Spaniards, all of whom had withdrawn into the inner lagoon, that the creek might have been the home of desolation rather than of men. Not a sound, scarce a breath, was heard; but the sailors in the boat began to discuss the situation, and presently lit a blue flare in the tunnel, though even then the bend of it prevented them seeing the garrison, which was now waiting with high-strung eagerness. Yet by what means his friends were going to cope with the danger, or to obliterate it, Messenger could not tell.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Max Pemberton Max Pemberton The Sea Wolves — XXV. THE SECOND PERIL OF THE CREEK (1901)

In that instant the Spanish woman, with hands clenched and streaming hair, cried out in a shrill treble voice which rang through the cave, and the great portcullis, being let go at the drums, fell, with a grating of iron and a horrid crash, upon the boat and its crew, and the shout of triumph became a shout of agony.
The fall of the iron gate split the long-boat as a hammer will split a nut.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Max Pemberton Max Pemberton The Sea Wolves — XXV. THE SECOND PERIL OF THE CREEK (1901)

He waited, breathing with an effort, and the sound became more distinct—the boat was coming up the creek to the tunnel, and the Spaniards were whispering among themselves. Then the woman, putting her hand upon his as he drew a pistol, spoke.
"Hold that back, if you don't want a hundred men in here," said she; "it's a government boat from the bay, and they are making their last voyage."
Source: Wikisource

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