“Well,” said the stranger, “it may be possible. I will see what can be done. Our boat is rather small and heavily laden. But I will see. I will see, and let you know.”
At this point I broke in, saying, “When did you land?”
“We came yesterday,” said he, coolly; “a party of us are here pig-hunting.”
“There is a great plenty of pigs to be had,” said I, accepting the lie without remark. “When do you intend leaving?”
“We shall not remain long,—two or three days, or perhaps a week,” said he; and after a pause he added, “but I will let you know in time.”
He inquired our names, and where we wanted to go; praised the breakfast unstintedly; bent furtive glances of coarse admiration on Alice from time to time; and conducted himself all through with the utmost assurance.
When we rose from the table and went out on the beach, he drew some long, plantation Cuban cigars from his pocket, offered us each one, which we did not refuse, and we began to smoke together.
Presently he spied on the beach one of the cages of gourds such as we had used in raising the galleon,—an extra one, not used. He walked up to this object and contemplated it for several moments, turning it over with his foot.
Finally he said, “Mr. Millward, I am a good deal puzzled over this thing. I suppose it was cast up here by the sea. Can you tell me what it is for?”
“I cannot, Mr. Senlis.”