“I am honoured in enjoying your Excellency’s society,” said the captain. “But I am sorry that your eyes should be so afflicted.”
“Yes, indeed. It is the cursed glare of the sun on the white streets of Basseterre which has gone far to burn them out.”
“I had heard also that you had been plagued by a quartan ague.”
“Yes; I have had a pyrexy, which has reduced me much.”
“We had set aside a cabin for your surgeon.”
“Ah, the rascal! There was no budging him, for he has a snug business amongst the merchants. But hark!”
He raised his ring-covered hand in the air. From far astern there came the low deep thunder of cannon.
“It is from the island!” cried the captain in astonishment. “Can it be a signal for us to put back?”
The Governor laughed.
“You have heard that Sharkey, the pirate, is to be hanged this morning. I ordered the batteries to salute when the rascal was kicking his last, so that I might know of it out at sea. There’s an end of Sharkey!”