"No, no," replied the captain, smiling, "honor bright, my boy. We'll keep our word to him."
"That's more than he'll do to us," answered the mate, "or I don't know the natur of a greaser. One broadside from our starboard battery would settle him, and save all future trouble, and make every thing pleasant and comfortable on all sides."
But Captain Morris would not listen to reason, and so the guns were secured, and the ports closed, and the little Zanthe went bounding on her course to Santa Rosara.
She came to anchor in a deep bay which she entered at nightfall, and almost immediately a shore boat, under the command of Martinez, boarded the brig. The meeting between the smuggler and his bride was so affectionate, as to call a tear even into the eye of Mr. Pardon G. Simpkins. The smuggler laughed loudly when he heard of the discomfiture of Captain Morena, the discarded suitor of the señorita Maria.
The next day all hands were employed in landing the remainder of the cargo, and at night a very worthy and accommodating priest came off from the shore, and united Martinez and Maria in the bonds of holy matrimony. The nuptials were celebrated with great rejoicings and revelry, and the fun was kept up till a late hour of the night, when the happy couple retired to the cabin.
The first faint streaks of dawn were beginning to appear in the east, when the ever vigilant ear of the mate, who never took a wink of sleep while the brig was lying on shore, detected the cautious plunge of oars, and soon he descried a barge pulling towards the brig.
"Catch a weazle asleep," said the Yankee to himself; "these greasers don't know as much as a farrer hen." And without arousing the captain, he quietly mustered the crew, and with as little noise as possible, the guns were run out upon the starboard side, which the boat was fast approaching.
A moment after he hailed. No answer was given, but the light of the lanterns flashed on the arms of a large body of men, and the mate recognized the figure of the captain of the Vengador in the stern sheets.
"Sheer off," shouted the mate, "or by the shade of Gin'ral Jackson, I'll blow you all to Davy Jones."
"Pull for your lives," shouted the voice of Morena; and the boat bounded towards the brig.