One of those little birds which sometimes carry needed information, both on sea and land, whispered this ill news to the gallant, young sea-dog. So he steered for the isle of Bourbon, and there landed his human freight in a small bay. At daybreak he lay at anchor in the Harbor of St. Paul in that self-same island.
About eight in the morning a boat was seen approaching, and to the hail,—“Who goes there?” came the reply—
“Public Health Committee from St. Denis. We wish to come on board and to inspect your ship.”
Surcouf was much annoyed.
“You can climb aboard,” said he, stifling an exclamation of disgust. “I am at your service.”
In a few moments the commissioners were upon the deck, and, in a few moments more, they had discovered that the ship was a slaver.
Turning to the youthful captain, one of the committee said:
“You, sir, are engaged in illegal traffic. You must suffer for this, and must come with us at once to the city to answer an indictment drawn up against you.”
Surcouf smiled benignly.
“I am at your service,” said he, with a polite bow. “But do not go—I pray thee—until you have given me the great pleasure of partaking of the breakfast which my cook has hastily prepared.”