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As yet I failed to see the object of his voyage. Could it be that that object was to warp the Spanish ship out of the cave and navigate her home? I might have supposed this to be his intention had his brig been full of men; but Greaves’ crew were below the brig’s complement as the average ran in those days of teeming ’tween-decks and crowded forecastles, and they were much too few to do anything with a ship of seven hundred tons ashore in a cave; unless, indeed, Greaves meant to ship a number of hands when on the Western American seaboard.

He returned after an absence of a quarter of an hour.

“I have stripped her of the main topgallant sail,” said he; “Yan Bol has the watch. I will tell you what I like about Yan Bol—he has the throat of a cannon; he does not shout, he explodes. He sends an order like a twenty-four-pound ball slinging aloft. The wind of his cry might beat down a sheep.”

“Van Laar enjoys his food,” said I.

“Van Laar is a gorging baboon,” he exclaimed; “but he shall not long be a gorging baboon in my cabin or even on board my ship.”