Chapter 20

END OF THE BANQUET.

"There was turning of keys, and creaking of locks, As he stalked away with his iron box. Oh, ho! oh, ho! The cock doth crow, It is time for the fisher to rise and go. Fair luck to the abbot, fair luck to the shrine! He hath gnawed in twain my choicest line; Let him swim to the north, let him swim to the south, The _pirate_ will carry my hook in his mouth."

In the pause which followed the dreadful episode just recounted by Captain Brand, the padre was occupied in pattering a prayer, counting his beads, and elevating his crucifix as if he was mumbling high mass at the altar. Don Ignaçio slowly waved his brown fore finger, and his single spark of glowing eye glared fiercely and fixedly at his host. A clammy sweat burst out on the pallid brow of the doctor, and his hands were clutched before him on the table like the jaws of a steel vice. And still the drunken shrieks and cheers of the piratical crew at the sheds arose wild and shrill in the calm night, making a gloomy echo for the banquet. The doctor was the first to break the awkward silence which pervaded the saloon.

"_Capitano!_" said he, in his habitual calm, deep voice, "with respect to what you said in the early part of the evening, of breaking up this establishment, what, may I ask, are your plans for the future?"

"_Gracias!_ _amigo_ doctor! Thank you, my friend, for changing the conversation. My plans! eh! ah! Well, they are these--"

Here Captain Brand's face assumed its usual expression; and entirely himself again, he went on to state, in a precise, business-like way, the views he had resolved upon for future action.

"--To-morrow, gentlemen, is Sunday. Those boisterous fellows out there, after mass, will need rest all the day. On Monday, however, I shall begin to change the rig of the schooner, fill up with provisions for a long cruise, take on board all the loose odds and ends we have stowed here, of course," he added, as he remarked an inquiring and a rather alarmed mercenary look from the Tuerto's glim--"of course, after having squared up all claims of our _compadre_ there!"

"Hum!" croaked that sharp rascal, with a nod of satisfaction quite like an old raven.

"Then, _señores_, I shall burn or destroy the old sheds, and bury the cannon and heavy articles we can not find room for in the 'Centipede;' when, if nothing happens, we shall trip anchor and spread our sails for sea!

"Babette! Babette! Really I believe that dear old negress has fallen asleep. Babette! ah! there you are, my beauty! See if you can't give us a bowl of okra gumbo before we break up here!"

Babette had not been asleep. Oh no! She had her ear to the door of the saloon, and was listening to the sad history of Doña Lucia, and when her master came to the final scene the old woman fell on her knees and shivered all over, where she remained until the sound of the captain's voice again called her to her duties.

"And when we have left these quiet waters, my son!" broke in the padre, "what then?"

The fact was, that the carnivorous and vinous Father Ricardo knew that his stomach was not suited for high winds and rough oceans, and was hoping that some scheme might be devised to allow him to remain tranquilly on the island.

"Why, holy padre, I propose to steer clear of the West Indies by some unfrequented track, and, striking the broad Atlantic, stretch down the coast of Brazil. Perhaps we may double Cape Horn, and see what those miserable patriots are fighting for in Chili and Peru; then maybe across the Pacific, to the lovely islands and maidens of Polynesia; so on to the China Seas, where we may fall in with an outward-bound Canton trader, or a galleon with a ton or two of silver on board--who knows?--there is plenty of blue water and fine ships every where; so we must be content."

Padre Ricardo made the sign of the cross, kissed his thumb and fore finger, and, reaching his dirty paw over to the captain, shook hands with him.

"Ay, _amigos_!" continued the leader, without minding the friendly interruption; "yes, my friends, we shall, I trust, give the hounds in search of us the slip; and even should they scent out this retired little spot, they will have their trouble for their chase, and find nothing but a few stones and heaps of rubbish above ground."

"They may find some little matters below, though," chimed in the commander of the felucca.

"If they do," retorted the pirate, with a meaning scowl, "I'll put the spy who betrays it to such a torture as that he'll wish himself below ground when I come back here."

"_Cierto, amigo!_ no fear of that!" muttered the Tuerto, with some little trepidation of manner. "_My_ papers are white."

"Captain Brand," said the doctor, "my contract with you is nearly up, and since I only agreed--as you know--to enlist my professional services here on shore, I presume you will have no objections to permit me to depart with Don Ignaçio in the felucca."

It would be difficult to say what caused the flush of passion which overspread the leader's face as he listened to this simple request, but it was full a minute before he replied, and then, having weighed the matter carefully in his mind, he said, in a precise and determined tone, in French,

"_Monsieur le Docteur!_ the compacts that I have made with all those that have taken service with me have never been broken except by death. I can not, therefore, consider your request, and I shall expect you to sail with me in the schooner."

Then he added, quickly, as he noticed a certain haughty expression in his subordinate's face, "Pardon me, _monsieur_; we had better not discuss this question now. Suppose you see me on the morrow."

"Willingly, _señor_, and you will find my resolution unchangeable." Rising as he spoke, he bowed to his companions at table, and saying "_Buenas noches!_ (good-night!)" he passed from the saloon to the piazza. There he paused a moment, as if communing with himself, and then approaching the grass hammock where the sick boy was sleeping, he gently took the little fellow up in his arms. The child murmured "Mamma, mamma!" and was borne away.

Captain Brand followed the doctor with his searching, sharklike eyes until he had left the apartment, and there was something that denoted danger in the look; but he uttered no sound, and, placing a finger on his lip, he nodded meaningly to the padre.

A moment after Babette brought in the steaming gumbo soup, and the pirate's feast was nearly ended. Don Ignaçio waited until his companions had swallowed a goodly portion of the grateful mess, when he too refreshed himself. Then making his salutations in his usual observant manner, he departed. He declined, however, the offer of his host's society to his boat, saying he had, he knew, half a dozen of the felucca's crew outside the building to guard his footsteps, and he would not put the _capitano_ to the trouble.

When the padre rose to give his benediction to his patron, the captain took him impressively by the rope which girded his cassock about the loins, and giving it a sharp jerk or two, he said,

"My holy father, I think we shall have a sad duty to perform to-morrow. Our old friend Gibbs has behaved badly, and I shall punish him. He is now in the Capella dungeon. After early mass go and console him."

The padre returned a meaning smile, crossed himself, and slowly left the pirate alone in his saloon.