The Three Lieutenants

by William Henry Giles Kingston

“Yes, I see that you are right,” said Jack. “I will do my best to catch one of his craft, at all events.”

Accordingly, on his arrival on board, he sent Needham in the dinghy, as before, to take a quiet pull among the ships. The gunner came back about midnight, and reported that the people were as busy as bees on board the schooner, that the sails were being bent, and, according to his opinion, she was getting ready for sea.

“Then she intends to sail tomorrow night, while I am on shore,” observed Jack. “I’ll go, however, and try if we can play as good a game as she can.”

“That’s it, sir; you will have plenty of time to get on board after she slips out, and we can soon be after her.”

Jack accordingly ordered a boat to be in waiting for him and his officers, at one of the less-frequented landing-places, a couple of hours after dark, intending to remain at the party till that time, and then to return on board. He also gave directions to Needham to have the cable hove short, and everything to be ready for getting under weigh at a moment’s notice. He then told Bevan and the other officers who were to accompany him that they were to leave Don Matteo’s house, if possible, without being noticed, and that he himself would follow at the time he had fixed on.

It was still daylight when he and his officers, including three midshipmen in full rig, pulled on shore to attend the ball.

The sun was just setting as they arrived at the wide entrance of Don Matteo’s handsome mansion, to which numerous volantes, in rapid succession, were bringing up the fair dancers, while gentlemen were arriving either in various conveyances or on foot.

Passing through a courtyard, they were ushered upstairs into a spacious and well-lighted saloon, with enormous windows looking on one side into a courtyard, in the midst of which a fountain threw up jets of cooling water, and on the other, into a garden fragrant with sweet-scented flowers.

The dancing soon began. No people could be more polite and attentive than their host and hostess, to whose lovely daughters the English officers were immediately introduced. At first Jack found it somewhat difficult to get through the contradanza, the dance for which Havannah is especially celebrated, but his partner smiled graciously, and assured him that he performed it to perfection. When, however, he contrasted his own performance with that of the active-toed Spaniards, he could not help feeling that he was receiving undue flattery. As to his companions they soon had to give it up as a bad job, though they did their best to make themselves agreeable by tucking their partners’ arms under theirs, and chattering away in execrable Spanish. Tom noticed that their host and his spouse kept a bright lookout on them, and no sooner was a dance finished than they were taken up and introduced to other partners, who were quite ready to forgive their mistakes; the midshipmen, at all events, thought it very good fun, and Tom, on looking at his watch, felt very sorry that the hour was approaching at which Jack had directed them to leave; however, his orders were not to be disobeyed, so, giving a hint to Desmond and Morris, they made their way to the door, when, followed by Bevan, they slipped downstairs.

Jack, who watched them, hoped that their departure had not been observed, but Don Matteo begged to know why the midshipmen were gone. Jack replied that he considered early hours the best for such youngsters, as they had their duty to attend to in the morning, and that the elder one had gone to take care of them.