Chapter 13

CONVERSATION IN POCKETS AND SLEEVES.

"He holds him with his skinny hand: 'There was a ship,' quoth he. 'Hold off! unhand me, graybeard loon!' Eftsoons his hand dropp'd he."

Captain Brand laid down the paper without a sign of outward emotion, and nodded his head several times at the one-eyed man facing him. He then extracted his perfumed handkerchief, examined the cipher in the corner, and waved it before his face. Don Ignaçio pulled out a red silk bandana, and polished his eye as if it were the lens of a spy-glass. At length the former spoke:

"_Amigo mio!_ The nets are spreading, but the fish are not in them yet!"

"No, _amigo_!"

"Ah! _compadre, viento y ventura poca dura!_ the fair breezes have chopped round in our teeth. Success, my friend, creates jealousy, envy, hatred, and malice. Now here were we swimming along as quietly as sharks under water, only coming up for a bite occasionally, when on come those villainous swordfishes, and wish to drive us away."

Captain Brand gave expression to this pious homily in a tone of virtuous reproach against the world at large, and as if he were a very much maligned and ill-used gentleman. He touched the bell overhead as he spoke, and, putting his mouth to the tube, asked,

"Any thing in sight?"

"Nothing, _señor_."

"Telegraph the man at the Tiger-trap station to keep a bright look-out, and direct the gunner to keep the battery manned day and night! Tell the boatswain to set taut the chain on the other side at the Alligator's mouth!"

Don Ignaçio gave a rather suspicious glimmer at his vessel as this last order was given, and smiled; that is, if a one-sided twitch to the wrinkles about the line of his mouth could be tortured into a smile. His companion seemed to divine what was passing in the Don's mind, for he added politely,

"The cable won't interfere with the 'Panchita!'"

"No, _amigo_; the felucca is anchored just _out_side of it." The Tuerto was not a man to leave any thing to chance, and he had taken the precaution to be on the safe side of the pirates, either as friends or enemies. He had indeed been as near an approach to a pirate himself as could be, and had only abandoned the business for a profession quite as bad, where there was less risk and more profit. In other words, he was now a colonial officer in command of a Guarda Costa, winking--but without shutting his eye--at piracy whenever he was well paid for it; and he invariably was well paid for it, or else he made mischief. Withal, he was as crafty and determined an old villain as ever sailed the West Indies. He had amassed a large fortune, and owned several tobacco estates--pretty much all his wealth acquired by the easy trouble of holding his tongue. Yet his greed was insatiable, and he probably would have sold the fingers from his hands, and his legs and arms with them--all, save his single black ball of an optic, which was invaluable to him--for doubloons. In fact, this feverish thirst after gold which always raged in his hot veins had induced him to pay Captain Brand a visit, and we shall see with what result. The truth is, however, that Captain Brand was the only man of his numerous villainous acquaintance afloat for whom he felt the least dread. He knew him to be bold, skillful, and wary, and so the Don had a tolerably positive conviction that, should he play him false, his own neck might get a wrench in the garrote while he was throwing the noose for his coadjutor.

To return, however, to the pair of worthies sitting in conclave in the pirate's saloon: the captain, resuming the conversation, observed in a careless tone, quite as if the subject under discussion was a mere ordinary matter,

"When will this swarm of hornets be down upon us?"

The Spaniard blew a thick puff of smoke from his cigarette, and still holding it between his teeth, while his eye glittered through the murky cloud, he replied,

"Perhaps a fortnight, a little more or less. I left St. Jago five days ago, with orders from the Administrador to run down this side of the island, and procure information for the English consul."

"Any cruisers down that way?"

"Ay! the corvette 'Scourge,' and the 'Snapper' schooner; they arrived the night before I sailed."

"Did you happen to see their officers, _amigo_?"

"_Oh si!_ I had a long talk with the captain of the corvette at the custom-house."

"Holloa! and you told him--"

"Yes; I showed him a chart of the Isle of Pines, and pointed out how to get into the old hole."

Here the pair laughed short laughs, when Brand continued his questions with,

"And how did he take the bait?"

"Hooked him; for I heard him order his first lieutenant to be ready for weighing at daylight, and say that my description tallied with that of the dying man they picked up in the 'Centipede's' boat," replied the Tuerto, with a chuckle.

"_Bueno!_" exclaimed the pirate, as his face assumed an unwonted sternness, while he rested his cheek on his left hand with the elbow on the table, and slipped his right into the pocket of his trowsers.

"_Bueno! amigo mio!_ But how do I know but you may have made a little mistake, and described another haunt besides the Island of Pines, off in this direction?"

There was the faintest click of a noise in the captain's pocket as he spoke, but not so faint but that it vibrated on the ear of the Spaniard, and, pushing back his chair a foot or two from the table, he raised his right hand, the fore fingers and thumb slightly bent inward, but grasping a jewel-hilted knife, whose dim blue blade glimmered up the loose sleeve. There was nothing threatening apparently in the movement, though the two villains looked at each other with a cold, murderous, unflinching glare.

The Don was the first to break the silence; and he said, in a low, hissing tone,

"_Maldito!_ Because I had a little account of plata to settle with you before the men-o'-war should roast you out. But beware, _Capitano mio_! I left a little paper at St. Jago with directions where to find me in case I did not return in a certain time."

"Ho, _compadre_, how very cautious with your friends! Why, what has put such thoughts into your head? _Diavolo!_ we have stood by one another too long to separate now. There, my hand upon it."

Saying this, Captain Brand's whole manner changed, and, drawing his hand from his pocket, he reached over toward his companion. The Don, however, watched him narrowly, and his eye shot out a wary sparkle as he withdrew his hand, when, cautiously putting forth his own left, he touched his cold, thin brown fingers to those of the man before him. This operation ended, he quietly sipped a few drops of anisette, and rolled and lighted another paper cigar.

"Well, _amigo_, let us now proceed to business," said Brand, gayly, "for dinner will soon be ready, and we have no time to lose. How stands the account?"

"The papers are on board the felucca, and it will be more convenient, when the settlement is made, to come on board with the money. How would to-morrow morning do? There's no hurry."

"Just as you choose, friend of my soul! The doubloons, or the silk, or broadcloth are ready for you at any moment. Pay you in any thing except the delicious wines of France. _Bueno!_" he added, pulling out a splendid gold repeater, with a marquis's coronet on the chased back. "And now, _amigo_, accept this little token into the bargain."

Don Ignaçio's fiery eye twinkled with greed, but it was only for a moment, when, giving a quick glance at the coronet and coat of arms, he waved his fore finger gently to and fro, and shook his head.

"What! No? Why, you know it once belonged to the Captain General of Cuba, old Tol de rol de riddle rol--what was his name? He gave it me, you know, together with some other trinkets, for saving his life--a--you remember? Very generous old gentleman--nobleman indeed--he was. May he live a thousand years, or more, if he can!"

Ay, Don Ignaçio did remember the circumstance attending that generous transaction, and he remembered to have heard, also, that the Captain General made a present of all his money and jewels with the point of a broad blade quivering at his throat. He said nothing, however, in allusion to this interesting episode, but he smiled meaningly, and went on with his cigar.

"Not take it, eh? Well, _amigo_, I must look you up something else; but now for dinner. Babette, clear away for dinner. Here are the keys of the wine-cellar. The best, my beauty, and plenty of it." Then turning to his companion: "Suppose we take a stroll to the Tiger's Trap; the sun is sinking, and a walk will give us an appetite for the turtle-soup--_vamanos!_"