d already compelled the
_Bangalore's_ surgeon to dress his wound for him; and now, having given
his orders to one of the men whom he considered the most reliable and
trustworthy of his crew, he returned to the _Francesca_, and, with the
aid of his son Pedro, was got into his bunk, where I could hear him from
time to time grinding his teeth in agony, although, such was the spirit
of the man, not a groan would he permit to escape him.

The sun had set, and the velvet dusk of the tropics was closing down
upon the scene, when at length the _Bangalore's_ boats were hoisted out,
and the work of transhipping the booty began. Mendouca must have felt
himself a second Kidd, for the ship was almost as rich a prize as one of
the old Acapulco galleons; there were bales of rich silks and shawls,
spices, caskets of gems, ingots of gold, exquisite embroidered muslins,
and I know not what beside--goods of a value sufficient, it seemed to
me, to make every rascal on the books of the _Francesca_ rich for the
remainder of his life, although they were of course unable to take more
than a comparatively small quantity of the _Bangalore's_ entire cargo.
Nevertheless, they contrived to find room for a goodly proportion of the
most costly and valuable contents of the vessel's hold, the transfer of
which, and of as much food and water as they deemed necessary to their
requirements, occupied the crew until midnight; for in Mendouca's
absence, as may be supposed, they did not trouble to exert themselves
overmuch. Moreover, a large proportion of them were in such a state of
intoxication they scarcely knew what they were doing--my especial
_bete-noir_ the boatswain among the number, he having seized an early
opportunity to board the ship after Mendouca had been safely bestowed in
his own cabin. I did not know this until told so by Simpson, the
English man whom I have already mentioned as having been left on board
the _Francesca_ that afternoon with the boatswain and myself, who added
to his information--

"Better keep your weather-eye liftin', Mr Dugdale, sir; that Jose's
full of spite as an egg's full of meat; he have never forgiven you for
knockin' him down, and have swore over and over again to put his knife
into you. And now that he's full of drink, and the skipper's on his
beam-ends, he's just as likely as not to try it."

"Yes, I suppose he is. Thank you for the warning, Simpson," said I.
The man put his finger to his forehead in acknowl