approaching the prostrate cripple,
said cheerfully--ay, in a frank and hearty tone--

"Now, my padre, place a comfortable chair for Master Gibbs, and we will
help him to a seat."

The considerate Ricardo placed a large, roomy Manilla chair on the fatal
trap, and then aided his chief in lifting their victim to the position
assigned him. As they performed this operation, the captain, with the
gentleness of a tiger before he strikes his prey, and with a wink to the
padre, lightly passed the noose of the silk rope over the ruffian's
hairy throat, where it lay like a snake with its slack coil squirming at
the back of the chair.

"Now, Master Gibbs, I am about to remove this bandage from your
beautiful red eyes," said Captain Brand, in his cold, chilling,
deliberate manner, "and if you so much as move when daylight shines
before you, I'll blow your brains out."

Here the pirate leisurely cocked a pistol close to his subordinate's
ear, removed the bandage, and laid the weapon on the table within
reach.

"No noise either, Master Gibbs!" continued Captain Brand, as he stirred
up the remains of his chocolate and gulped it down; "for it is Sunday
morning, and we must respect the feelings of our padre. You were unkind
to him, he tells me, just now, and even said some disrespectful things
of me. What have _I_ done to vex you?"

The manacled wretch tried to raise his horny hands to his face when the
cloth was removed from his eyes, and rub those organs, while he glared
suspiciously around; but the captain pointed with his white finger in a
threatening way to the cocked pistol, and Master Gibbs let his hands
fall again.

"Well, Captain Brand, I s'pose now you're going to treat me as a
faithful man who has sarved under you ought to be treated; and I'm
willin' to forgive what has passed."

There was no look of forgiveness, however, in those brutal bloodshot
eyes, nor much signs of repentance in those grinding teeth and
compressed lips.

"Why, no, my Gibbs, _I_ am _not_ going to treat you as a faithful man,
but I tell you what I will do"--here the captain moved his chair nearer
till his straw slipper touched the spring of the trap--"I will drink a
glass of grog with you in forgetfulness of the past and forgiveness for
the future."

"Thank ye, Captain Brand; I do feel dry. That stuff Babette gave me a
while ago didn't touch the right spot, and I'll be glad to jine you."

"Ah! _bueno_, my old friend; you _shall_ drink somet