When daylight broke, the only ship on the blue expanse of the Caribbean within the vision of Antigua was the red–hulled Arabella at anchor in the shadow of the bluff to receive the demi–cannons she had lent the enterprise, and the battered Virgen del Pilar listing heavily to starboard where she had stuck on the submerged hull of the Atrevida. About the wrecked flagship swarmed a fleet of small boats and canoes in which the buccaneers were salving every object of value to be found aboard her. They brought all ashore: arms and armour, some of great price, a service of gold plate, vessels of gold and silver, two steelbound coffers, being presumably the treasury of the squadron and containing some six thousand pieces of eight, besides jewels, clothes, Oriental carpets, and rich brocades from the great cabin. All were piled up beside the fort for subsequent division as provided by the articles under which the buccaneers sailed.
A string of four pack–mules came along the shallow cliff as the salving was concluded, and drew up beside the precious heap.
«What's this?» quoth Blood, who was present at the spot.
«From his Excellency the Captain–General,» replied the Negro muleteer, «fo' dah conveying ob dah treasure.»
Blood was taken aback. When he recovered, «Much obliged,» said he, and ordered the mules to be laden, and conducted to the end of the bluff, to the boats which were to carry the spoils aboard the Arabella.
After that he went to wait upon the Captain–General.
He was shown into a long, narrow room from one end of which a portrait of his late sardonic majesty King Charles II looked into a mirror on the other. There was a long, narrow table on which stood some books, a guitar, a bowl of heavily scented white acacia, and there were some tall–backed chairs of black oak without upholstery.
The Captain–General came in followed by Macartney. His face looked longer and narrower than ever.
Captain Blood, telescope under his arm and plumed hat in his hand, bowed low.
«I come to take my leave, your Excellency.»