as obvious that they
acted in haste. When they had gone about a couple of boat-lengths from
the beach, one of the men rose up with a musket, and Orlando distinctly
heard him say--

"Shall I send a bullet into him?"

"If you do, the captain will skin you alive," was the reply from one of
the other men.

The alternative did not seem agreeable to the first speaker, for he laid
down his musket, and resumed his oar.

Soon after the boat reached her, the sails of the stranger were spread,
and she glided slowly out of the lagoon.

CHAPTER FOUR.

Let us waft ourselves away, now, over the sea, in pursuit of the strange
barque which had treated the good people of Ratinga so cavalierly.

Richard Rosco sits in the cabin of the vessel, for it is he who commands
her. He had taken her as a prize, and, finding her a good vessel in all
respects, had adopted her in preference to the old piratical-looking
schooner. A seaman stands before him.

"It is impossible, I tell you," says Rosco, while a troubled expression
crosses his features, which have not improved since we saw him upwards
of three years ago. "The distance between the two islands is so great
that it is not probable he traversed it in a canoe, especially when we
consider that he did not know the island's name or position, and was
raving mad when I put him ashore."

"That may be so, captain," says the sailor: "nevertheless I seed him
with my own eyes, an no mistake. Didn't you say he was a man that
nobody could mistake, tall, broad, powerful, handsome, black curly hair,
short beard and moustache, with sharp eyes and a pleasant smile?"

"The same, in every particular--and just bordering on middle age,"
answers the perplexed pirate.

"Well, as to age, I can't say much about that," returns the seaman; "he
seemed to me more like a young man than a middle-aged one, but he had
coolness and cheek enough for a hundred and fifty, or any age you like."

"Strange," muttered Rosco to himself, paying no regard to the last
observation; "I wish that I or Mr Redford had gone with you, or some
one who had seen him the last time we were here; but I didn't want to be
recognised;" then checking himself--"Well, you may go, and send Mr
Redford to me."

"I cannot account for Zeppa turning up in this way," he said, when the
mate entered.

"No more can I, sir."

"Do all the men agree in saying that he seems to be quite sane."

"All. Indeed most of them seemed surprised when