Saying these words, all addressed to the individuals in their different languages, he gave a graceful wave of his hand and passed out of the building. As he rejoined his friend, the commander of the “Panchita,” who had waited at the threshold, while his wary glim of an eye searched the faces and read the thoughts of all the villains who clustered about the room––they both stepped out into the court-yard and sauntered pleasantly on toward the crag. They had not, however, proceeded many paces before they encountered the padre and the doctor.
“Ah!” exclaimed the captain, who was in advance, “how goes it with my doctor?” shaking his hand as he spoke. “Oh, mi padre, how art thou?” turning to Ricardo.
“Salve! my son; not been so well this morning, with the old rheumatism in my head.”
“Drunk!” said sententiously the doctor.
Then again with a gay laugh to the other, “Well, my doctor, your first cruise has not been so pleasant in the ‘Centipede’ as I hoped it might be, but the next may be more agreeable.”
“Perhaps so, Captain Brand; but I shall have a word or two with you on that subject to-morrow; and, in the mean while, señor, I brought a little boy back with me who is ill from fever, and my 82 quarters are so stifling hot, and the air from the lagoon is so bad, that I would like to stow him for a day or so, with your permission, in your quarters, where it is cooler.”
“Certainly, doctor; why not? my house and all in it are at your service. By the way, I was about to ask you and the padre to dine with me and Don Ignaçio there. Will you join us? Yes? Then let us move on, for dinner must be ready by this time, and it would be a sin to keep Babette waiting.”
Excusing himself for a few minutes, the doctor went for his sick charge, and returned with him in his arms to the pirate’s dwelling.