After Carlo had gone, the two girls, who were busy over some beautiful Spanish embroidery, still sat by the window hoping to see the pirates go back blindfolded. Such excitement had not before fallen to the lot of Felipa; for during the five years she had been in this beautiful and peaceful island home, nothing more exciting had occurred than a few expeditions to the other island, or a row on the lagoon. The Marquis, her father, had been much blamed by his Spanish kindred for having sent for his daughter from Spain; but his reasons had been, besides his natural affection for her, a fear that after her mother's death her uncles might marry the young girl to one of their own friends and pass it off as an order of the King. Till now Del Campo had certainly not regretted the step, for he wished to keep Felipa with him till she should marry a man of his own choosing. In those days young girls were promised in marriage to men whom they had never seen, and very often their lovers were old and unattractive, though they were of course wealthy or had some other recommendation in the eyes of the parents of the high-born Spanish maidens.
Felipa quite believed Carlo when he assured her and Etta that Santa Teresa was much too strong and well-fortified to be taken by even such a large number of pirates as had now landed; so the fears of the maidens were, in consequence, much diminished, and a good deal of curiosity mingled with their sympathy at Carlo's disappointment.
'After all,' said Felipa, who was not naturally brave, 'if Carlo had gone out to fight the pirates he might have been killed, so it is just as well our father waited for daylight, and to hear what Captain Morgan had to say. Don't you think so, Etta?'
'Brave soldiers never think whether they shall be killed or not,' said Etta. 'I am sure the Captain's son is brave; he walked in with his head thrown back, and looked so handsome.'
'Oh, Etta, if any one is an Englishman you think he must be perfect,' said Felipa, crossly. 'I tell you these pirates are all wicked, and make war on defenceless women and children. That is unworthy of any great nation.' But Etta retorted:
'Nay, but the Spaniards are more cruel than the English.' They might have gone on disputing over their nationalities had not Carlo reappeared, carrying with him a document which he was trying to decipher.
'Etta, here, quick. This is crabbed English writing, and the Marquis said that you were to help me to read it, and to write it out in fair Spanish, so that the council may deliberate on it. The boy who has accompanied the messenger cannot speak many words of Spanish, and will do nothing but shake his head. If I had my wish I would have both man and boy hung up on the tallest prickly palm of the estate.'
Etta in the meanwhile was deciphering the words, which had been written on the rind of the fruit of the cabbage-palm, which rind looked very much like a piece of parchment, and was indeed often used instead of it in the West Indies.
The writing ran thus, though it took all the three some time to make it out--
'To the Spanish Governor of the Island of St. Catherine.