"For a few days we must wait," the civil officer resumed. "Perhaps the English sobrecargo and our sailors will return. If they do not, we must think—— But we will talk about something else."
They talked for some time and then a messenger arrived and gave Don Ramon a note.
"It is from the office," he remarked. "The signals on the Isleta are going. A schooner and a ketch come from the East."
"Ah," said Austin with a smile, "I reckoned on something like this. I think the situation has arranged itself."
"You mean, the ketch is yours?" said Don Arturo.
"I expect she is the Cayman and the other is the Lucia. It looks as if Musgrave had got the men. Shall we cross the harbour and see the boats arrive?"
The others agreed, for all were keen to get the news, and soon afterwards they landed on the long mole, which, built of ponderous concrete blocks, runs for some distance out to sea. The morning was bright, the Trade-breeze fresh, and outside the shelter of the Isleta head big foam-tipped combers rolled south. Shining spray blew about the mole, and one felt the surges beat the massive blocks. The echoes of the measured shocks rolled among the coal wharfs across the harbour.
Some distance off two sails broke the dazzling sweep of blue. They slanted, plunged and almost vanished, but they got larger, and at times when they crossed a comber's top Austin saw a dark line of hull. He knew Cayman; no other boat about the islands carried a mizzen like hers. Moreover, he thought he knew Kit Musgrave, and since Kit was coming back, was persuaded he had brought the men. He admitted that Jacinta had used Kit rather shabbily, and he meant, if possible, to make some amends.
"What are you going to do about Musgrave?" he asked Don Arturo.
"If he is willing, he can stop with us. Are you interested in the young fellow?"