for
dinner in the day; but as for Captain Brand, he never slept at all--a
doze for an hour or two, perhaps, on his settee in the saloon, and a cup
of tea in the morning, with cigar-smoke, satisfied his frugal
requirements. The next day, by noon, the water and stores were got on
board the brigantine, her magazine stowed, the dunnage of the crew
transferred from the sheds, the captain's camphor trunks on board and
cabin in order, the sails bent, anchors on the bows, and, swinging to a
hawser made fast to the rocks, the vessel was ready to put to sea at any
moment.

"Pedillo," said Captain Brand, as his vigilant gaze took in all around
him and then rested on the "Centipede"--"Pedillo, you may warp the
vessel down to the mouth of the Tiger's Trap so soon as you've strewed
some fagots ready for lighting in the sheds. When you get to the Trap,
tell the gunner to take a gang of hands and give that battery a good
coat of coal tar, plug the vents of the guns, and bury carriages and
all in the sand beside the magazine. Tell him to destroy the powder, and
pitch overboard all he can't conceal; and let him bear a hand about it,
for we shall sail with the last of the sea-breeze toward sunset.

"And, Pedillo"--here the pirate's voice dropped to a whisper--"come back
after the vessel is secured, and bring that Maltese fellow without a
nose with you. It will be as well, perhaps, for you to provide yourself
with a few fathoms of raw-hide strips, as we may have occasion to use
it. _Quien sabe?_"

Senor Pedillo's black wiry beard fairly bristled as he grinned
understandingly at his superior; and, getting into a bit of a canoe at
the jetty, he paddled off to the brigantine to execute his orders.

Meanwhile Captain Brand slowly bent his steps toward the house under the
crag, and entered his spacious saloon for the last time. On the bare
table, too, was his last dinner, served on a few odd dishes and cracked
plates.

"Babette, old girl!" said he, as he sat down to this repast, "you have a
bottle of good Madeira, and a flask of Hock left? No?"

The negress shook her head violently, made the sign of the cross, and by
other telegraphic motions gave her master to understand that Padre
Ricardo had dropped in, drained both bottles, and then had reeled off on
board the brigantine.

"The drunken selfish beast!" muttered Captain Brand; "it will be the
last taste of wine he will swallow for a long time."

The pirate was quite correct in his