A man bent towards the ground, was busy digging up herbs and plants with a small spade.
The pirate smiled, and replaced his pistol in his belt.
He had recognized the doctor, who was as much absorbed in his favourite passion as usual; so much so, indeed, that he had not perceived him.
After surveying him for an instant with disdain, the pirate was turning his back upon him, when an idea occurred to him, which made him, on the contrary,—advance towards the savant, upon whose shoulder he somewhat roughly laid his hand.
At this rude salutation, the poor doctor drew himself up in a fright, letting fall both plants and spade.
"Holla! my good fellow," said the captain, in a jeering tone, "what madness possesses you to be herbalizing thus at all hours of the day and night?"
"How!" the doctor replied, "what do you mean by that?"
"Zounds! it's plain enough! Don't you know it is not far from midnight?"
"That is true," the savant remarked ingenuously; "but there is such a fine moon."
"Which you, I suppose, have taken for the sun," said the pirate, with a loud laugh; "but," he added, becoming all at once serious, "that is of no consequence now; although half a madman, I have been told that you are a pretty good doctor."