“You are in a talkative humor this evening.” “Well, it is like being homeward bound when the end of the outward passage is within hail.” “What were you going to say about the _Casada_?” “I have never clearly gathered--supposing her to be still lying in that cave where you saw her----” “She is still lying in that cave where I saw her,” he interrupted, repeating my words in a strong voice. “I have never clearly gathered,” I continued, “whether it is your intention to tranship her cargo--I mean the cocoa and wool?” “I cannot make up my mind whether or not to meddle with those commodities,” said he, “and so, because I have not been able to form an intention, you have not been able to gather one from our conversation. The weather will advise me. Then I shall want to know the condition of the cargo. The wool, cocoa, and hides in the hair may not be worth lifting out of a hold that has been aground in a cave since 1810. But there are a thousand quintals of tin, and there are some casks of tortoise shell--we shall see, we shall see.” “Mynheer Tulp,” said I, “will, no doubt, be able to find room for all that you can carry home.” “Room and a market. But I am here for dollars. I believe I shall not meddle with the other stuff. We’ll tranship as fast as the boats can ply, and then away.” I made no answer, being occupied at that instant with admiring the effect of a flash of lightning in the southwest--a clear and lovely blaze of violet which threw out the horizon in a black, firm, indigo line. I went below with Greaves, at eight o’clock, to drink a glass of cold grog before turning in. Greaves had brought the chart of this part of the American coast out of his cabin, and we sat together conversing and looking at it. At intervals I was sensible of the burly figure of Yan Bol pausing near the open skylight, under which we sat, to peer down and to listen. But there was nothing Greaves desired to withhold from the crew, nothing he was not willing that any man of them should overhear if it were not, perhaps, the value of the money on board the _Casada_; though even their overhearing of this would be a matter of indifference, since they were bound to form an opinion of their own of the contents and value of the cases of dollars when they came to handle them. Greaves had marked down upon the chart the position of the island in accordance with his observations when he hove to off it and sighted the ship in the cave on his way to Guayaquil. The position of the brig by dead reckoning since noon brought us, at this hour of eight, within twenty leagues of the spot, and, therefore, supposing Greaves’ observations to have been correct, and supposing that the weak wind that was flapping us onward continued to blow throughout the night, we had good reason to hope that the bright morning light would give us a view of the tall heap of cinder cliffs before another twelve hours should have gone round.