The captured ship rolled at some distance from the schooner, and it was apparent that it was necessary to provide for her safety during the night that was now setting in.
The short tropical twilight had nearly passed away, and darkness was gathering on the expanse of the waters, when one of the negro boys, whom the reader may recollect, sought the cabin of the chief officer, and delivered to him the same ring by which, it may be remembered, he, once before, gained admittance into the captain’s cabin. As soon as Lorenzo received the ring, he proceeded to the after part of the vessel and gained admittance to his chief.
The latter was still in his dark uniform and was sitting by the large table that occupied the centre of the apartment. A chart was before him; by its side were, also, the papers which had been brought from the ship.
“Lorenzo,” said the chief to the officer, after pointing to one of the ottomans, “it is my will that our prize be manned, and sailed to St. Thomas, where we shall sell the cargo. To-morrow, we shall deal with our prisoners, and divide the spoils already gathered. Let a sufficient number of men be sent on board the ship to-night, so that she may be properly manned, in case of any change of the weather. Let the schooner, in the mean time, be kept lying to, under her jib; and let the prize remain in the same position—a quarter of a mile from us. At dawn of day, let all the men assemble on the main deck, and wait for me.”
The officer rose and bowed, to depart.
“Stop, Lorenzo,” resumed the chief, “drink some wine:” a spring was pressed, and immediately one of the boys in attendance brought in a richly cut decanter and the necessary accompaniments. Lorenzo and the captain, respectively, filled themselves a goblet and quaffed it off in silence; after which the officer left the cabin.
CHAPTER V.
“Come, my masters, let us share,—”
Henry IV.