During the long voyage to New Zealand from the southern ice he had made quite a favourable and friendly impression on Fred, and never did he seem more happy than when sitting between the two lads on the quarter-deck of an evening, smoking and drinking sherbet. He would not sit in the dark, however.
"I must see the faces of those I talk to," he said.
So wherever at night the señor sat on deck a lantern was swung.
The lads were never tired listening to stories of his strange life and adventures; they were thrilling in the extreme. At the same time they were natural and naturally told.
Yet with all his nonchalance and his gaiety our heroes often noticed that at times there came into his face a look of weariness, nay, at times, even of utter woe, that used to sadden while it surprised them.
They were old enough and wise enough to know from this that Señor Sarpinto had a life-story he never told; that deep down at the bottom of his heart was a well-spring of sentiment, no drop from which ever in their presence found its way to the surface.
There was no need to hurry, this voyage, the señor told Captain Cawdor over and over again. Life among the beautiful islands of the southern Pacific was far too delightful, far too idyllic to be hurried over. But a ten-knot breeze had the same effect upon both Cawdor and his mate that a red rag had on a bull. It excited them, and clap on sail they would.
So the only way Señor Sarpinto could think of for delaying the voyage, was to ask for a boat to visit every island they came any way near. The voyage was all that could be desired for a fortnight and over. Then contrary winds blew. This state of affairs was succeeded by a hurricane or tornado that blew both vessels very much out of their course.
It was a night of fearful darkness and storm; but next morning, though the waves were still houses' high, the wind had fallen to a dead calm. But where was the Resolute?
Her lights had been seen at eight bells in the middle watch; but when the sun shot up at half-past six, and apparently changed the round, rolling waves into blood and fire, the brig was nowhere visible.