"Yes, thank Heaven, plenty."
"How many are Filibusteros?"
"All of them."
"Bad luck to them, then!"
"The same to you!"
"Caramba," says the Spaniard.
"—— ——," says the Englishman.
And so the forms of diplomacy are fulfilled; and of Havana, more in my next.
CHAPTER IV.
THE HARBOR OF HAVANA.
AS we have said, there were some official mysteries connected with the arrival of our steamer in Nassau; but these did not compare with the visitations experienced in Havana. As soon as we had dropped anchor, a swarm of dark creatures came on board, with gloomy brows, mulish noses, and suspicious eyes. This application of Spanish flies proves irritating to the good-natured Captain, and uncomfortable to all of us. All possible documents are produced for their satisfaction,—bill of lading, bill of health, and so on. Still they persevere in tormenting the whole ship's crew, and regard us, when we pass, with all the hatred of race in their rayless eyes. "Is it a crime," we are disposed to ask, "to have a fair Saxon skin, blue eyes, and red blood?" Truly, one would seem to think so; and the first glance at this historical race makes clear to us the Inquisition, the Conquest of Granada, and the ancient butcheries of Alva and Pizarro.