“What does he say?” inquired Bark, glad to find that the skipper was no longer pugnacious.
“He says he has matches, and that there is a lantern in the cuddy,” replied Raimundo. “Here, Stout, look in the cuddy, and see if you can find a lantern there.”
Bill had the grace to obey the order, though he was tempted to refuse to do so. He found the lantern, for he had seen it while he lay in the cuddy. He brought it to Bark, and took the lamp out of the globe.
“You will find some matches in Filipe’s pockets,” added Raimundo.
“I have matches enough,” answered Bill.
“I forgot that you used matches,” said the second master; “but I am glad you have a chance to make a better use of them than you did on board of the Tritonia.”
“You needn’t say any thing! You are the first officer that ever run away from that vessel,” growled Bill, as he lighted a match, and communicated the blaze to the wick of the lamp.
It was a kerosene-lamp, just such as is used at home, and probably came from the United States. Bark proceeded to examine the wound of Juan, and found it was not a severe one. The young man was rapidly coming to himself, and in a few minutes more he would be able to take care of himself.
“I think we had better move him into the cuddy,” suggested Bark. “We can make him comfortable there, and fasten him in at the same time.”
“That’s a capital idea, Lingall; and if Stout will take the helm I will help you move him,” answered Raimundo.