"Maxime, Maxime Blonde," screeched the hotel keeper, "a señor to see you on business. Come forth!"
"What now?" cried a voice from the cabin aft. "Who is it calls Maxime at this time of night?"
The hotel keeper went aft and explained matters. Presently he returned and invited me to follow him to the cabin. Of all the dirty holes it has been my misfortune to enter this was certainly the worst. Straw, paper, and banana peel littered the floor. On the right-hand side of the cabin was a narrow bunk, upon which a small, shrivelled-up mulatto was seated. He explained that he was Monsieur Maxime, and that he was owner and captain of the vessel. Being unable to bear the closeness of the cabin I suggested that we should do our business on deck, and thither the little man followed me. In something under a quarter of an hour my arrangements were made with him, and it was settled that we should sail for San Diaz at daybreak.
CHAPTER XIII
Of our voyage from the island of Asturia to San Diaz there is little to chronicle. La Belle Josephine, as far as her sailing capabilities were concerned, was all that her owner and captain had described her to be. On the other hand, her dirt and slovenliness were exactly what I had been led to expect it would be from my first inspection of the cabin. To sleep in it, or to eat my meals there, was out of the question. How the Señorita would manage, when she came aboard—provided I was able to get her away from the island—I could not imagine.
Monsieur Maxime's navigation, I soon discovered, was of the most elementary description. However, perhaps by luck, and perhaps by a measure of good judgment, he managed to pick up the island about noon on the third day after leaving Asturia.
Fearing that Silvestre might have some one on the look-out, I bade Maxime keep the schooner out of sight of land until nightfall. Then we put in, and brought up in a small bay some five miles from the settlement. Immediately it was dark I went ashore, bidding the hands take the boat back, and when they got there to keep a sharp ear for my whistle.
Fortunately for what I had in hand, it was a dark night, so dark indeed that I could scarcely see the boat when I had walked a dozen paces from it. What the jungle would be like I could not imagine.