Mr. and Mrs. Banneret now came forward, while the Lilburnes shook hands warmly with the man who had been their friend in need, whatever might have been his career under other circumstances.
[299]
]‘We shall never forget you,’ said Mrs. Lilburne; ‘you saved two lives when you rescued Alister from that inferno.’
‘The Captain knows he may count on us whenever he likes to call,’ said her husband. ‘We hope to be able to repay him in kind.’
‘It was time for us to go, my lads;
It was time for us to go,’
said he, chaunting the refrain of an old sailor-song, in deep melodious tones. ‘I have never yet been caught napping, but, believe me, this meeting of true friends will be among the most precious memories of a reckless life, and if any of the present company should find themselves in danger on sea, or land, within a hundred miles of this skipper, he’ll effect a diversion if it’s in the power of mortal man. But, after all, it’s a ten-to-one chance we never meet again. Think of me as one who might have been a better man with better luck. Adios, señora. Adios, Don Carlos Alvarez. Adios, señoritas.’ Here he shook hands once more with the men, and bowing low to the girls and Mrs. Banneret, strode away to a swift hansom which awaited him, and disappeared from their eyes.
There was a peculiar feeling, somewhat allied to regret, yet perhaps even more to relief, when their picturesquely lawless friend took his departure. This sentiment was shared in lesser degree by the older, more experienced individuals of the party. But the girls were frankly grieved at the loss of so romantic an acquaintance—the tears, indeed, coming into Vanda’s eyes as she realised [300] ]that she could hardly hope to know ‘a real pirate’ again.
‘Do you think he really was engaged in the Black Flag business—death’s head and crossbones, and so on?’ queried Eric.
‘I don’t think that was ever proved,’ answered Lilburne; ‘more likely a trifle of privateering, or “blackbirding,” as labour-recruiting was called in the early days of the Queensland sugar-planting industry. But there was a warrant out for him, and, indeed, for Hilary Telfer—that tall, fair man standing near Mrs. Banneret with his lovely wife; he was supercargo on board the famous Leonora.’
‘What a beautiful creature she is!’ said Hermione; ‘what a figure, what eyes, and such a face, lit up by a charming smile! She is something like a Spanish girl we saw at Santa Barbara, and yet not quite the same type—far more beautiful, with grace personified. I can’t quite place her.’