all_ remain on the island. No thanks.
Adieu. Now, Don Ignacio, if your men and boats are at the cove, we will
make sharp work with your business. _Vamanos!_"

CHAPTER XXIII.

WORK.

"Skeleton hounds that will never be fatter,
All the domestic tribes of hell,
Shrieking for flesh to tear and tatter,
Bones to shatter,
And limbs to scatter,
And who it is that must furnish the latter,
Those blue-looking men know well!"

When the pirate stood in his saloon on the morning subsequent to the
pleasurable events of the Sunday previous, he, as well as his saloon,
presented altogether a different aspect. The apartment had been stripped
of all its rare and costly furniture, cabinets, candelabra, plate,
china, and glass, and nothing of value was left save the camphor trunks
on the floor, the cane-bottomed settee, a few chairs, and a table. All
the beautiful things, ornamental as well as useful, had disappeared,
even to the rich packages of merchandise in the great vault beneath. The
late possessor, however, of all that worldly wealth did not appear to be
at all discomposed, or to cherish the faintest pang of regret at his
loss. In truth, he seemed to be relieved from an uncomfortable load of
responsibility; and feeling assured, perhaps, that in roaming about the
world he could collect a still more valuable collection--only give him
time--and he would exercise his critical taste with every pleasing
variety. It was thus he consoled himself as he stood there in his now
denuded room, attired in a pair of coarse canvas trowsers, a red flannel
shirt, with a short sharp hanger on his hip, and a double-barreled
pistol in his belt--quite the costume in which he so singularly shocked
Dona Lucia, whose lovely miniature once hung there on the wall in
company with the other miserable victims of his lust.

Captain Brand had just entered his dwelling, having been up and actively
occupied ever since we last parted with him. Now he had come for a cup
of tea and dry toast; and, while Babette was bringing that simple
breakfast, the pirate stood, tall, erect, and powerful, with one
muscular arm resting high above his head on the side of the doorway, and
the other lying lightly on the shark's-skin hilt of his cutlass, looking
out to seaward--a very model, as he was, of a cool, prudent, desperate
villain.

"Ah! there you go, you crafty old miser, in your guarda costa! Take
care, my compadre,