“Ha! ha! what a good joke, señor!”
“Is it not?” The officer who had walked forward returned, and whispered to the stout man. “But why, my Captain, do you carry a torpedo-tube and a heavy gun? Is it to shoot gulls? Ha! ha! I am afraid, Captain, you will not get your coal here, and that your visit may be prolonged to our satisfaction. You will find the island of Madeira lovely—most beautiful. In the meantime, I may introduce you to my friend Lieutenant Guilia Gobo, who will remain your guest with these soldiers.”
The stout officer gave some order to his Lieutenant, and clambered down into his boat.
“My Captain,” he said, with a pleased smile, “may I direct your attention to our powerful fort? We have there some heavy guns; oh, very formidable.” He sat down chuckling, and rubbing his knees.
“The old boy is pleased with himself,” remarked Webster to Frank, who, together, had been amused spectators of the scene. “He euchred the Captain without trouble—an easy matter enough, by the way, in the face of that little weapon forward. Look at the skipper: dissimulation is not his rôle.”
Indeed, Captain Pardoe looked very black, as he confronted the Lieutenant and his four men.
“Well, sir,” he said, “what is the meaning of your presence on board my ship?”
“I no speak the Ingleese,” said the Lieutenant haughtily.
“But he understands it well enough,” muttered Webster.
“You don’t speak English; perhaps you will understand that I have enough coal to take me to Teneriffe, and I will leave in an hour. Up to that time you are welcome to the run of the ship, but you will find it agree ill with your uniform.”