"Certainly, captain. Let us bring up here under Villegagnon; it will be cooler and healthier than farther in. Look yonder at the merchantman anchorage. I see the yellow flag flying from at least a dozen foremasts. The yellow fever is evidently playing mischief at present."
Baptiste had not been unobservant of Carew's start and change of expression at the mention of his name. The wily Frenchman had a game to play: he had put down his first card with a result that satisfied him.
The anchor was let go under Villegagnon and the sails were stowed; then Baptiste, looking around him, happened to perceive a barque anchored about half a mile off. "Ho, El Toro," he cried; "look at that barque. Is she not the very sister to the old Vrouw Elisa?"
"Baptiste," said Carew sternly, "you told me that you had never been on board the Vrouw Elisa."
The mate, not in the least disconcerted, laughed, and replied, "That does not prevent my knowing her by sight, surely, Captain Carou—I mean—how stupid of me!—Captain Allen."
CHAPTER IX
Shortly after the Petrel's anchor had been let go, under the island of Villegagnon, a galley, manned by brawny blacks, came off to the yacht; a Brazilian gentleman in uniform leapt on deck and introduced himself as the doctor of the port. On hearing that the vessel was an English yacht sailing under an Admiralty flag he raised no difficulties, but granted Carew pratique at once, despite the absence of a clean bill of health from Rotterdam.
When the health boat had gone off again, Carew ordered the dinghy to be lowered. "I will go on shore at once, Baptiste," he said. "I will call on the British consul, and ask him for a clean bill of health for Buenos Ayres. We won't stay longer than is necessary in this unhealthy place."