"My wish certainly is," said she in her calm, emphatic way of speaking, "that as little as possible of what has befallen me should be known."
"Then," said I, "I will ask you to step into the cabin and keep in your own berth out of sight until the visit I hope to receive is ended."
She went below forthwith.
Half an hour later the large full-rigged hired transport Talavera had ranged alongside La Casandra, easily within earshot. She was crowded with troops; numbers of military officers in undress uniform surveyed us from the poop. A tall man in a frock coat and a cap with a naval peak stood upon a hen-coop, and hailed to know what was the matter.
"My men have deserted," I cried back; "there are but this negro boy and myself to carry the schooner to an English port. Can you lend me a couple of hands?"
"I will send a boat," he exclaimed, very easily perceiving that it was impossible for me to board him.
A boat in charge of a mottled-faced, jolly-looking, round-shouldered man, about thirty years of age, swept alongside, and the jolly-looking man came on board.
"Are you the master?" said he.
"Yes," said I.
"Short of men, hey?" said he. "So I should suppose, if he's your crew," bursting into a laugh as he indicated the negro boy with a motion of his chin. "How come you to be at sea with no more crew than one little nigger?"