green--of the rose, the camellia,
the oleander, the passion-flower. Island of wild flowers, that grow and
wanton everywhere, that have their home in the woods, that carpet the
earth with colour, that clothe the rocks, that hang head downwards in
masses over many a foaming cataract, that climb the trees and repose
like living, sentient beings among the branches, wooing the bees,
attracting the butterflies, and tempting the gay, metallic-tinted moths
to expand their cloaks in the sunshine, and fly clumsily to their
embrace.

Island of seeming contentment, where even human beings live but to idle
and to lounge and to love.

Beautiful, beautiful island!

Yes; but an island on which our heroes must not linger, for twice during
the night a dark shape glided across the moon's bright wake, and those
on watch on board the _Tonneraire_ knew it was the waiting, watching
foe. But when day broke no foe was to be seen. Captain Mackenzie stayed
therefore only long enough to take in extra stores, water, and fruit,
and to permit his fleet to do likewise; then the signal was made, "Up
anchor, and to sea!"

In silence the anchors were weighed on board the man-o'-war; but
accompanied on the merchant-vessels by the never-failing song, with its
frequent abrupt conclusion, without which merchantman Jack finds it
impossible to carry on a bit of duty.

"Hee--hoy--ee! Hee hoy! Pull, and she comes! Hoy--ee--ee! Hoip!"

* * * * *

All that day the young captain of the _Tonneraire_ kept his fleet well
together. Not an easy task, for although the wind was by no means high,
and was moreover favourable, being north-east by east--the course
steered about north-west, the convoy bearing up for Halifax and the Gulf
of St. Lawrence--still the sailing powers of the vessels varied
considerably. The strength of an iron chain equals the strength of its
weakest link, and the speed of a fleet of merchantmen is measured by
that of its slowest sailer. While at San Miguel, Jack had tried to
impress this upon the minds of his various skippers. He held a meeting
of these on board a large full-rigged ship, and told them their motto
must be, "Keep together," as the danger of an attack was imminent. Slow
sailers must carry stun'-sails when they found themselves getting
behind, while the fast must take in sail.

They admitted this.

"It is as plain as the nose on my face," said one intelligent skipper,
who had a huge red bulbous