But there was no time now for more words, even though the young people seemed to have much to say to each other. Carlo followed Pedro and Harry, feeling altogether angry and ashamed of his position. He was, too, a little jealous of Etta’s evident happiness at talking to one from her own country; and besides, he could not bear to feel that he was himself virtually a prisoner in his own house; and yet, thought he, ’I have never delivered up my sword, and I have never owned myself defeated.’ As for his father, he could not bear to think of him as a traitor to his king and country. When they entered the hall Carlo was dismayed by a sight such as he had never expected to see in Santa Teresa. Some long wooden planks had been laid on trestles and placed in two rows down the hall, and round them sat some forty or fifty of Captain Morgan’s chief men eating and drinking voraciously. A dozen or more of the negro slaves waited on them, filling up their goblets when empty--a duty which was by no means light or infrequent. At a smaller table at the upper end of the hall Captain Henry Morgan was also enjoying what he considered a well-earned breakfast; for daylight was beginning to flood the hall, showing that the long night of anxiety was over. In the sky beautiful clouds tinged with every conceivable shade of crimson and gold were making lovely backgrounds for the tall palm-trees and the other forest giants; but of all this beauty the soldiers and the buccaneers thought nothing. Henry Morgan was anxious, now that he was in possession of the island, to secure it permanently for future need, and, as soon as he could, to send on some of his men in search of still more booty, the thirst for gold in these pirates being quite unquenchable. After a moment’s pause Carlo walked proudly up to the top table, bent on showing no fear; yet what made the deepest impression upon him was, not the sight of the much-dreaded sea-robber, but that of his own father seated opposite to the foe, and being treated apparently, not as a prisoner, but as a friend, by the man whom Carlo hated as being both a buccaneer and an Englishman. The poor Marquis, however, could not be said to look happy; he carefully turned away from Morgan, and now and then rose hastily from his chair and paced nervously up and down the small platform, muttering audibly, ’I did it for the best. There has been no massacre of the people. Who will dare to blame me? How could I do otherwise? Why has Don Francisco left me, and where is my son?’ ’Marry! here comes the culprit!’ cried Captain Morgan, seeing Carlo approaching. ’Señor Governor, I suppose this young sprig is your son, and the one who led the assault before sunrise? The young scoundrel has a puissant sword and despiteful ire.’ ’My son knew nothing of our plans,’ said the poor Marquis, who in spite of his own conduct could not help feeling proud of his boy.