Thus we talked, and as we rowed to the brig we continued to chat, he entering very fully into the cost and character of the equipment we should require, the time we should occupy, supposing them alive in the hull, whether we returned with them to the Cape or headed for the nearest South American port. My spirits rose under the influence of this man's conversation. His practical mind put everything so clearly that in imagination, even whilst we made for the brig, I had realised my hopes--I had rescued Marie and her companions--we were proceeding home! The brig did not show so milk-white when close to as from the beach; rusty blood-like stains lay dried in scars under the bolt heads and other metal projections, but her figure gained in beauty when approached. I am no sailor, but when I ran my eye over her moulded shape, observed her keen entry, the swan-like curve of her run lifting to an elliptical stern, with a swell of white side that made me think of a polished heave of sea, I would have wagered there were few swifter vessels of her rig and tonnage then afloat. A lighter or something of that sort was alongside receiving cargo; a man in a cloth cap and half Wellington boots was perched on the rail close to where the cargo was going over the side; he made notes with a pencil in a little book; three or four coloured men were winding at a winch. I had caught, whilst in the boat, the clinking noise of the pawls slipping over the sheet-calm water in a sort of music that wanted but the accompaniment of a hurricane lung or two to furnish out a fine ocean concert. The man on the rail touched his cap when we gained the deck. 'That's my mate, Mr. Bland,' said Captain Cliffe. 'He's a good seaman. I can recommend him.' I sent a glance of curiosity at the sailor, guessing if I hired this brig he would go with us; he had the face of a sheep, dark eyes set far back close against his ears, a thick black beard, and a weather-tanned skin, filled with the holes of small-pox. An ugly man indeed! Yet you saw honesty and intelligence like a light of good humour in the expression of him. Captain Cliffe took me round the decks of the little craft first of all. I had no eye for points of marine equipment, yet noticed a smart little galley with red tiles on the floor, a seat athwartships, and a small array of saucepans, kettles, and the like, all very clean. The windlass looked small, so roomy was the forecastle. The captain then took me aft to the companion, which was painted green, trotting by my side, of the height of a boy, from time to time looking up into my face to observe if I was pleased. I halted in the companion and asked how many boats he carried; he answered two, and pointed to a long-boat stowed near the galley, this side of it, and then to the water astern, where a small boat was floating.