“HE TOUCHED THE BELL OVERHEAD AS HE SPOKE, AND, PUTTING HIS MOUTH TO THE TUBE, ASKED, ‘ANY THING IN SIGHT?’”

“His Britannic majesty’s squadron has been augmented on the West India station. The brig ‘Firefly,’ corvettes ‘Croaker’ and ‘Joker,’ touched at Nassau, New Providence, on the 2d instant, bound to leeward. We also learn that the United States have fitted out a squadron of small vessels, called the Musquito Fleet, to search for the noted pirate Brand, who has so long committed atrocities 66 among the islands. He was last chased by the American corvette ‘Scourge,’ off Morant Bay, on the east coast of Jamaica, but escaped during the night. The following day a shattered boat was picked up, which had been cut adrift from the piratical schooner, containing several dead and dying bodies of the pirates. One of the latter gave such information to the captain of the ‘Scourge’ as leads to the hope that Brand’s retreat may soon be discovered and his nest of pirates be destroyed. Recent advices from Principe state that a vessel loaded with valuable merchandise struck on the Cavallo Reef and went down. The crew, however, five in number, were rescued, but on landing were identified by the mate of the English bark ‘Trident’ as a portion of the men who robbed that vessel and murdered the master and several of the passengers. Our readers may remember that among the latter were two sisters, who leaped overboard and were drowned, to save themselves the horror of a more cruel fate. The men alluded to, who were wrecked in the brig off Principe, were sent in chains to Havana, and were yesterday publicly garroted in the Plaza of Moro Castle.”

69

CHAPTER XI.
CONVERSATION IN POCKETS AND SLEEVES.

“He holds him with his skinny hand:
‘There was a ship,’ quoth he.
‘Hold off! unhand me, graybeard loon!’
Eftsoons his hand dropp’d he.”

Captain Brand laid down the paper without a sign of outward emotion, and nodded his head several times at the one-eyed man facing him. He then extracted his perfumed handkerchief, examined the cipher in the corner, and waved it before his face. Don Ignaçio pulled out a red silk bandana, and polished his eye as if it were the lens of a spy-glass. At length the former spoke:

“Amigo mio! The nets are spreading, but the fish are not in them yet!”

“No, amigo!”