“There is something brewing,” said my brother.
“Perhaps it is already brewed, and only awaiting tapping,” said I. “But we shall see: ‘Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.’”
“Bother your musty old saws!” cried Martin. “Can’t you tell me what you think of this sudden resolve of Prabu’s to sail to-morrow? You know it is all stuff about having his cargo ready and on board. Why, he had but half a cargo yesterday.”
“Ah, brother mine! but perhaps some kind fairy, by way of consoling him for his disappointment touching the tin-mine, has supplied him with the other half.”
“Nonsense, Claud, it was no disappointment; you know that he believed it all a hoax.”
“I know nothing, Martin; I can only guess and hope.”
“But what do you guess and hope, then?”
“That would indeed be tellings, Martin. Why, it would be giving you the end of a story before you had got half through. No, it would spoil the whole; so rest contented, or guess for yourself.” And then Martin went to sleep in a very bad humor. In justice, however, to myself, I was bound by Prabu not to tell living soul either what I knew or guessed without his permission.
CHAPTER XII.
WE BITE THE BITERS, BUT ARE OVERHAULED BY A DUTCH CRUISER.
Very affectionate was the leave-taking between Prabu and the chief’s family—nay, even Martin and I shared in the kind words and presents of fruits and rice-bread. It seemed, indeed, as if they had a difficulty in finding words sufficient to express their joy at our visit and their sorrow at our departure. Moreover, they would see the last of us, and so they accompanied us to the very edge of the water. Warmly Prabu thanked them for their hospitality.