“It is my duty to advise you that the Honourable Lady Signora Alforgas de Guzman, now deceased, has, in her testament, bequeathed to you the sum of one thousand doubloons in gold as a testimony of your kind services on the night of the 12th of August. If you will authorise any merchant here to receive the money, it shall be paid forthwith, or remitted in any way you please to appoint. May you live a thousand years.
“Your most obedient servant:—
“Alfonzo Xerez.”
Jack heard the letter read, rose quietly, whistled low, as if not attending to it, and then slipped out of the room, unperceived by the Governor or Captain Wilson.
The fact was, that although Jack had longed to tell the Governor about his adventures after the masquerade, he did not like yet awhile, until he was sure that there were no consequences—because he had given the captain’s name instead of his own. As soon as he heard the letter read, he at once perceived that it had been the old lady, and not the priests, who had made the inquiry, and that by giving Captain Wilson’s name he had obtained for him this fine legacy. Jack was delighted, but still puzzled, so he walked out of the room to reflect a little.
“What can it mean?” said Captain Wilson. “I never rendered any services to any one on the 12th of August or after it. It is some mistake—12th of August—that was the day of the grand masquerade.”
“A lucky one for you, at all events—for you know, mistake or not, no one else can touch the legacy. It can only be paid to you.”
“I never heard of anything taking place at the masquerade—I was there, but I left early, for I was not very well. Mr Easy,” said Captain Wilson, turning round, but Jack was gone.
“Was he at the masquerade?” asked the Governor.
“Yes, I know he was, for the first lieutenant told me that he requested not to come on board till the next day.”