“Oh, I do! I do!” said Britomarte, fervently.
Then a silence fell between them for a few minutes—a silence which Britomarte at length broke by asking:
“Our prisoner, Justin—what about him? Have you told the captain of him?”
“No, not yet. I have concluded to defer all mention of our prisoner until to-morrow, when the captain and his officers are coming to dine with us.”
“Yes; that will be the best opportunity of introducing the subject,” assented Britomarte.
After tea they spent the evening in planning for the entertainment of the captain and the officers of the Xyphias. And then they separated and retired to bed—not to sleep, but to lie awake with the joy of thinking about their voyage home.
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE PIRATE SPEAKS FOR HIMSELF.
The next morning was one of pleasant bustle in the island home. The little household was astir early. And directly after breakfast they went about preparing to receive their company.
Justin went out with his tackle to the little creek making up from the cove, where at this season he could catch fine fish.
Britomarte began to sweep and dust the parlor, and to arrange the furniture and put fresh flowers in the vases. These vases, by the way, were of wickerwork, woven by Justin from the fibres of the palm leaves, and provided with wooden cups hollowed out from blocks of palm logs, to hold the water for the flowers.