“I hope so,” said Lance. “By the bye, have you made any arrangements for letting us have the arms you promised? That fellow Ralli, as you have remarked—”
“The arms? Well, now, only to think of that!” exclaimed Johnson with well-feigned annoyance. “What a dog-goned forgetful cuss I am; blamed if I ain’t forgot all about ’em. I’ve been that busy, if you’ll believe me, general, I ain’t had time to swaller a mouthful of grub this four days; half-starved to death I am; just look at my waistcoat—fits me like a sack. But about them arms—I declare I am real sorry I forgot ’em, general; but never mind, I guess you won’t want ’em. If you do”—he button-holed Lance and whispered him confidentially—“just you take ’em—help yourself to ’em; I give you my permission, I swow. And now I really must say ‘good-bye.’ Take care of yourself, general, and go ahead with that schooner as fast as ever you can. Get her finished by the time I come back, and the battery too, and I promise you shall leave the island as soon as you like arterwards.”
They were by this time at the water’s edge; and as Johnson uttered the last words of his farewell he sprang into the boat which was waiting for him, and flinging himself into the stern-sheets, gave the order to “shove off.”
Ten minutes later the same boat was swinging at the brig’s quarter-davits, and the brig herself, with her anchor-stock just showing above water, was moving slowly away towards the harbour-entrance under topsails and jib.
At a little distance from Lance stood Ralli, watching the departure of the brig.
“Ah!” he muttered, “there you go, you vile American dog, you cowardly mean-spirited cur; take my parting curses with you; may you meet with nothing but ill-luck and perplexity; may misfortune follow you; may the very wind and the sea war against you; may the treachery which I have planned prevail over you; and may you die at last with the jeers of your enemies ringing in your ears. Good-bye! good-bye!” he shouted, bringing the tips of his fingers together at his lips and wafting with them an ironical salute after Johnson, who at that moment glanced shoreward and waved his cap. “Good-bye, and the devil himself go with you. Aha! my Yankee friend, you little know that you are taking your last look at this scene; you little dream that the brig carries a dagger whose blade is thirsty for your heart’s blood, and whose point I have directed at your breast. Adieu, miserable coward, for ever. I hope Antonio will not forget to tell you, as he drives home his blade, that it was I who ordered the blow; my revenge will else be robbed of half its sweetness. You thought, doubtless, that because it suited me to receive your insults in silence that I should soon forget them. Bah! you should have known better; my very quietness—the repression of my resentment—should have warned you; but you are a poor blind fool without any discernment, or you would have known that a Greek never forgives a wrong. Good-bye once more, and for the last time—good-bye; I wish you all speed on your road to perdition.”
And he waved his hat smilingly at the fast receding brig as he saw Johnson raise a telescope to his eye and level it in his direction.
When the Albatross had at length finally disappeared beyond the harbour’s mouth Ralli turned for the first time and caught sight of Lance. Stalking up to him he said scoffingly—
“So, Mister Soldier, you have lost your friend at last.”
“Yes,” said Lance very quietly, “if, as I imagine, you refer to your captain. But I must protest against your styling him my friend; he is nothing of the kind.”