MAR. Come to the Church, Pedro,—just across the way—and see me take the veil.
PED. I’ll be there. Au revoir. (the Marquis, the nuns and Mariana exeunt; Pedro looks at Manuel who has sunk desperately into a chair goes up to him and slaps him on the back.) Brace up, old man!
MAN. (intolerably; shaking Pedro’s hand off.) Ah!
PED. If you were not so huffy, I’d tell you a secret.
MAN. You are married, I suppose.
PED. Far from it,—and cannot be without your services.
MAN. Tell me the secret.
PED. I have a plan by which I can get command of a pirate ship at a moment’s notice. There is one now, the Creole, lying at anchor, ready to sail at a word of command. (they look at each other, then Pedro offers his hand; Manuel takes it.)
MAN. (rings bell.) I’ll join you immediately. (exit Pedro; enter Darblee.) Has Lafitte come yet?
DAR. He has not.