"You've given me a bad night, young fellows," said the skipper, as he stood looking on at the lads enjoying their morning meal, one over which the Camel seemed to have taken extra pains, showing his large front teeth with a smile of satisfaction as he brought it in relays of newly-made hot cakes, before retiring to slip fresh slices of bacon in the pan. "Yes, father," said Poole; "but see what a night we had!" "Ah, but yours was merely physical, my boy; mine was mental." "I thought ours was both; eh, Burnett?" said Poole, laughing. "Oh, yes, it was," cried the middy. "You don't know what a night we had, Captain Reed." "Well, I suppose you did not have a very pleasant time, my lads.--Oh, here's Mr Burgess. Well, they don't seem much the worse for it, do they? Nothing in sight?" "No, nothing. I don't think she could have followed us out. Have you any more to say to me about the course?" "No," said the skipper. "I think we pretty well understand about the bearings as given in the letter. The Don put it all down pretty clearly, and in very decent English too." Fitz looked up sharply, for the mention of the letter brought to mind the light fishing-boat with the bird-wing-like lateen sail and the rapidity with which the bearer of the despatch delivered it to the skipper and went overboard again. Captain Reed noticed the boy's inquiring look, and said quietly-- "Perhaps we had better say no more about that with an enemy present." Fitz was in the act of helping himself to some more of the hot bread, but at the skipper's words he flushed warmly, put down the cake without taking out of it a semi-circular bite, and rose from his seat. "I don't wish to play the spy, sir," he said haughtily. "I will go on deck till you have finished your business." "Sit down!" cried the skipper. "Sit down! What a young pepper-castor you are! Mayn't a man think what he likes in his own cabin?" "Certainly, sir; but of course I cannot help feeling that I am an intruder." "That's just what I feel, my boy, for coming in and disturbing you at your meal. Sit down, I say. If anybody is going to leave the room, I am that person; but I am not going to leave my cabin, so I tell you." The skipper gave his son a peculiar look, his eyes twinkling the while. "Think we can trust Mr Burnett here?" he said. Fitz gave a start. "Oh yes, father. He won't go and tell tales. He won't have a chance. What was in that letter?" "Just a few lines, my boy, to say that everything was going very wrong at present, and begging me whatever I did to keep the schooner's cargo out of Villarayo's hands, and to join Ramon as soon as I possibly can." "But where, father? Both the towns are in the enemy's hands." "At his hacienda at the mouth of the Oltec River." "Hacienda?" said Poole. "That means a sort of farm, doesn't it, father?"