"We'll take care of him," said the captain. "Only man we saved. Prime good seaman. He'll be one more first-rate fighter, too, when we need him."
So the Noank sped on, and the two British men-of-war came sailing out of the harbor to chase her.
CHAPTER XII.
A PRIZE FOR THE NOANK.
"It doesn't take long to see all there is on one of these plantations," said Guert Ten Eyck to himself. "It's the laziest kind of place, though. I haven't seen a man in a hurry since I came here."
He was standing in a wide veranda which ran along the entire front, at least, of a long, two-story, fairly well-built house. There were well-kept gardens, with noble trees and shrubbery, and all the veranda was shadowy with climbing vines. It was the old Paez plantation house, and was also the present home of Señor Alvarez and his family.
"It's all very fine," Guert had remarked of it. "They're as rich as mud, but I wouldn't live here for anything. What if the Noank should manage to get away without me on board of her?"
That was a black idea which seemed almost to make him shudder. He had remained here as a favored guest for over a fortnight. During these days of his Spanish plantation experiences, the Noank had been idly rocking at her anchor in the sheltered cove to which her Carib pilot had steered her.
The two British war-ships had been cruising to and fro in a fruitless search for her, and their commanders were more than a little chagrined at their ill success, for they were firmly convinced that she could not be far away.