Bilbao stared also for ten seconds, then roared out: “By thunder, it’s you!”
“Who?” echoed Hillary’s lips, as he surveyed the two men and wondered what next was going to happen. The two men, Bilbao and old Everard, had gripped hands!
It appeared that Samuel Bilbao had sailed as boatswain under Everard when he had been chief mate of a full-rigged ship in the Australian clipper line, about eleven years before.
Hillary almost cursed that sudden recognition as the two men rambled on, and Bilbao shook his fist, bent himself double with glee and took monstrous nips of rum and whisky as he discussed everything, of the past and future, but the vital matter in hand.
But it turned out a good thing, for before the night grew old the big sailor had lifted his hand to the roof and in a thunderous voice had called all the tropic stars to witness that he would find Gabrielle and scatter Rajah Koo Macka’s dust to the four winds of heaven. He swore to Everard and Hillary that he knew Macka (whether he really did know him at that time was something that was never known for a certainty).
“I know him, the old heathen kidnapper!” he roared, as Hillary and old Everard stared at the massive face with its vikingesque moustache stuck out like spears from the corner of his grim mouth. “Seen ’im off Tai-o-hae five years ago, when he abducted two princesses—twins—from O le Mopiu’s royal seraglio!”
It was marvellous the change of atmosphere Bilbao made in Gabrielle’s old home, as he thought over his plans, consulted his chart, ran his finger down the degrees and murmured: “Easy as winking!” Indeed, he made everything look so rosy that instead of Gabrielle’s abduction being a tragedy it appeared a blessing in disguise.
And it can be truthfully recorded that though Samuel Bilbao held the advance of two hundred pounds in gold and notes in his mighty palm, and said that he didn’t like taking money from an old pal, he really meant what he said. All the same, he gave a huge sigh of relief when he felt a mass of gold coins and notes safe in his capacious pocket. But it must again be admitted, in all fairness to Bilbao, that he could not go off and hire a schooner for a voyage to the coast of New Guinea to search for Gabrielle without some cash in hand.
After that little business matter was settled to the satisfaction of both parties, Bilbao looked at the old man and said: “Ah, pal Everard, she was a beautiful maid, well worth the money, this Gabrielle of yours.” Then he continued: “I had great pleasure in meeting the girl, and introduced myself to her as she sat swinging on a bough in the forest not far from here: and didn’t she sing to me! Lord! I think the girl fell madly in love with my handsome face. I little dreamed that I was being passionately wooed by my old shipmate’s daughter.”
Everard at hearing this large contortion of the truth only looked absently at the big man and said nothing. Then Ulysses said in a soft, sympathetic voice: “Ah, pal Everard, I can easily imagine how ye loved the gal, soothed her pretty face and made her love ye—eh, pal?”