“Dead against us,” replied the seaman; “we want to run to the south, and the wind will blow from that quarter.”
“You have a beautiful craft, Captain Weber, and one I know can show weatherly qualities.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” answered the captain, slapping his hand down on the bulwark, “I love every stick the jade carries, every rope-yarn aboard of her; while I am at sea, she is wife and children to me. Do you hear the wind sighing aloft? You would do well to persuade the lady to turn in.”
Wyzinski, Dom Francisco, and Isabel were walking on the quarter-deck deeply engaged in conversation, and enjoying the freshness of the night.
“I did not think I should ever look back to the Zambesi with pleasure,” said Isabel, as Hughes joined the party; “but really, the unostentatious hospitality we received from Senhor Assevédo will always be remembered by me. It is a magnificent river, and I am sure must be fully half a mile wide in some parts. The coolness of the air, too; I never thought to see European vegetables, such as peas and cabbages, growing side by side with the mango and banana.”
“Ah, with its plains of wild cotton, which no one takes the trouble to cultivate, its sugar-canes, indigo, and droves of splendid cattle, the country bordering on the Zambesi might be a very rich one,” said Wyzinski.
“Which, otherwise worded, means if the colony belonged to the English instead of the Portuguese, Senhor,” tartly remarked Dom Francisco.
“Not so, Senhor de Maxara; the English in South Africa have failed in many things, as regards colonisation, nor could I be guilty of such a thought.”
“The object of my mission is to draw up a report as to the capabilities of the land, and I hope a new day may now dawn for the Portuguese colonies in South Africa,” said the noble. “The country is rich in mineral products. Cattle and animals of all kinds abound in the plains, while coal, gold, iron, and copper could be procured for the labour of taking them,” he continued; “but that is Captain Weber, is it not, leaning over the bulwarks; will you go with me, Senhor, and serve me as interpreter? I wish much to thank him for the arrangements he has made for our comfort.”
Hughes thus left with Dona Isabel, a silence ensued. The sails were banging loosely in the brails, flapping against the masts, for the night was perfectly calm, but still there was the never ceasing throb of the ocean, causing the brig to roll lazily, the cordage and blocks to strain and creak, the studding sail booms to rattle, and the timbers of the stout brig herself to groan and moan.