No sooner had he finished, than all appearance of hostility was at an end.
A rope ladder was thrown down the side, and in a minute more Lolo and the captain were shaking hands on the quarter-deck, for the days of auld lang syne.
Antonio bade the mate and our boy heroes get up coloured cotton and beads, and distribute a yard or two of the former, and a handful of the latter, to every canoe.
Thus was a bloodless victory ensured, and a welcome more hearty than even Antonio himself could have expected.
Meanwhile he and Lolo held a long confab on deck, where they drank sherbet together, and smoked cigars of peace.
Yes, the king was alive, Lolo told the captain, and how delighted he would be to see him.
Antonio handed Lolo a watch.
“For you,” he said.
Lolo’s eyes sparkled with delight.
“For me!” he repeated; “poor Lolo all unworthy is!”