s spoken. The men round the fire
numbered twenty-two. One, their leader, appeared to be a pure-bred
Portugee, some of the others were Bastards and the rest Arabs. They were
drinking rum and water out of tin pannikins--a great deal of rum and
very little water. Many of them seemed half-drunk already, at any rate
their tongues were loosened.

"May a curse fall upon our father, the Devil!" said one, a half-breed;
"why did he take it into his head to send us back with the boats just
now? We shall miss the fun."

"What fun?" answered the leader of the party. "They won't cage the birds
for another three or four days; the dhows are not ready, and there is
talk of an English cruiser--may she sink to hell!--hanging about outside
the river mouth."

"No, not that," said the man who had spoken first, "there is not much
sport in driving a lot of stinking niggers on to a dhow. I mean the
auction of the white girl, the English trader's daughter, whom we caught
up the river yonder. There's a beauty for some lucky dog; I never saw
such a one. What eyes she has, and what a spirit! why, most of the
little dears would have cried themselves blind by now."

"You needn't think about her," sneered his leader; "she will go too
dear for the likes of you; besides it is foolish to spend so much on one
girl, white or black. When is the auction?"

"It was to have been the night before the dhows sail, but now the Devil
says it shall be to-morrow night. I will tell you why--he is afraid of
her. He thinks that she will bring misfortune to him, and wants to be
rid of her. Ah! he is a wag, is the old man--he loves a joke, he does.
'All men are brothers,' he said yesterday, 'white or black; therefore
all women are sisters.' So he is going to sell her like a nigger girl.
What is good enough for them is good enough for her. Ha! ha! pass the
rum, brother, pass the rum."

"Perhaps he will put it off and we may be back in time, after all," said
the captain. "Anyhow, here is a health to her, the love. By the way,
did some of you think to ask the password before we left this morning? I
forgot to do so, myself."

"Yes," said a Bastard, "the old word, 'the Devil.'"

"There is none better, comrades, none better," hiccoughed the leader.

Then for an hour or more their talk went on--partly about Juanna, partly
about other things. As they grew more drunk the conversation became more
and more revolting, till Leonard could scarcely listen to it and lie
still.