t out, Dobree," he
observed. "I still doubt if that fellow is honest, and am half inclined
to make sail again, and while he bears down to pick up his boat, we may
get to windward of him."

"If he isn't honest he'll not trouble himself about his boat, but will
try to run alongside us, and let her come up when she can," answered the
mate. "There is no trusting to what such craft as that fellow may do."

"Oh, we'll take care he does not play off any tricks upon us," said the
captain; and we waited the approach of the boat.

As she drew near, she was seen to contain eight men. Four were pulling,
one sat in the bows, and the other three in the stern-sheets. If they
were armed, it could not be discovered. When they got within hail, the
captain asked them what they wanted.

They pointed to their mouths, and one answered in Spanish, "Aqua, aqua,
por amor de Dios."

"They want water, sir, they say," observed the first mate, who prided
himself on his knowledge of Spanish.

"That's the reason, then, that they were in such a hurry to speak to
us," said the captain. "But still, does it not strike you as odd that a
vessel should be in want of water in these seas?"

"Her water-butts might have leaked out; and some of these Spanish
gentry, sir, are very careless about taking enough water to sea,"
replied the mate, who was biassed by the pleasure he anticipated of
being able to sport his Spanish.

"Get a water-cask up on deck, and we'll have it ready to give these
fellows, whatever they may be," said our humane captain. "Have some
pannikins ready to serve it out to them. Thirst is a dreadful thing,
and one would not keep a fellow-creature in that state a moment longer
than one could help."

I do not know what the second mate thought of the strangers, but I
remember several of the crew saying that they did not like their looks;
and I saw him place a cutlass close to the gun nearest the starboard
gangway, while he kept eyeing them in no very affectionate manner.
Notwithstanding the heat of the weather, the men in the stern-sheets
wore cloaks. On observing this, Bill Tasker said he supposed it was to
hide the shabby jackets they wore under them. The other men were
dressed in blue shirts, and their sleeves rolled up to the shoulder,
with the red sash usually worn by Spaniards round their waist, in which
was stuck the deadly _cuchillo_, or cut-and-thrust knife, in a sheath,
carried by most Lusitanian and Iberian seamen a