y taken,
would send him to sleep; but instead it quickened his spirits, and with
no lack of life in his voice he said, "What is the condition of the
vessel?"

I told him that she was still high and dry, adding that during the night
some sort of change had happened which I should presently go on deck to
remark.

"Think you," says he, "that there is any chance of her ever being
liberated?"

I answered, "Yes, but not yet; that is, if the ice in breaking doesn't
destroy her. The summer season has yet to come, and we are progressing
north; but now that you are with me it will be a question for us to
settle, whether we are to wait for the ice to release the schooner or
endeavour to effect our escape by other means."

A curious gleam of cunning satisfaction shone in his eyes as he looked
at me; he then kept silence for some moments, lost in thought.

"Pray," said I, breaking in upon him, "what ship is this?"

He started, deliberated an instant, and answered, "The _Boca del
Dragon_."[2]

[Footnote 2: So in Mr. Rodney's MS.]

"A Spaniard?"

He nodded.

"She was a pirate?" said I.

"How do you know that?" he cried with a sudden fierceness.

"Sir," said I, "I am a British sailor who has used the sea for some
years, and know the difference between a handspike and a poop-lanthorn.
But what matters? She is a pirate no longer."

He let his eyes fall from my face and gazed round him with the air of
one who cannot yet persuade his understanding of the realities of the
scene he moves in.

"Tut!" cried he presently, addressing himself, "what matters the truth,
as you say? Yes, the _Boca del Dragon_ is a pirate. You have of course
rummaged her, and guessed her character by what you found?"

"I met with enough to excite my suspicion," said I. "The ship's company
of such a craft as this do not usually go clothed in lace and rich
cloaks, and carry watches of this kind," tapping my breast, "in their
fobs and handfuls of gold in their pockets."

"Unless----" said he.

"Unless," I answered, "their flag is as black as our prospects."

"You think them black?" cried he, the look of resentment that was
darkening his face dying out of it. "The vessel is sound, is not she?"

I replied that she appeared so, but it would be impossible to be sure
until she floated.

"The stores?"

"They are plentiful."

"They should be!" he cried; "we have the liquor and stores of a galleon
and two carracks in our hold, apart from what we o