Presently she pointed to the bottle of claret--there stood but one bottle on the table--and looked at me in silence, but with an expression of such eloquence as Jimmy himself could not have missed the meaning of. “Wine,” said I. “Vine,” she repeated; and then to herself, “_Vino_--vine; _vino_--vine.” She next pointed to the piece of salt beef. “Meat,” said I. “Meat--_carne_; meat--_carne_,” she repeated. She pointed to several objects. I gave her the English names, and she pronounced them deliberately, in a rich voice, invariably tacking the Spanish equivalent to the word, as though she wished me to observe it. I sat for about a quarter of an hour over my supper, and then, looking at the clock significantly, and then up through the skylight, that she might gather my intention, I arose, giving her a little bow. She rose also, and, pointing upward, tapped her bosom, most clearly saying in that way--“May I accompany you?” “_Si, señorita_,” said I, expending, as I believe, in those words the whole of my stock of her tongue. A fine smile lighted up her face, and she addressed me; and what I reckon she said was that it would not take me long to learn Spanish. She picked up her hat, and then, looking at the table, pointed, and showing her white teeth, said, “Bread--_pan_; meat--_carne_; vine--_vino_;” and so on through the words I had interpreted, making not one blunder either of pronunciation or indication of the object, saving that she called wine _vine_, and ham _yam_. I conducted her on deck; I believe Yan Bol had been surveying us from the skylight; I perceived his big figure lurching forward when I emerged, and his way of going made me suppose that he had been looking through the skylight with his ear bent. “An old ape hath an old eye,” thought I, as I watched him disappear in the darkness. The crew were assembled on the forecastle and singing songs there. They had rigged up two or three lanterns and sat in the light of them, drinking rum-and-water out of mugs, and smoking pipes. A strange voice was singing at that moment; I listened, and guessed it to be one of the two Spaniards. The girl paused and listened too. She then ejaculated, “_Ay! Ayme!_” and went to the rail, and gazed out to sea. There blew a soft wind, cool with dew, out of the southwest. I looked for the island, but the shadow of it was blent like smoke with the darkness. The ripples ran in faint, small ivory curls, and the water was full of roaming glows of phosphorus. The Spanish sailor ceased to sing. A fiddle struck up, screwing and squeaking into a tune which immediately set my toes tapping; a hoarse cough succeeded, and then rang out the roaring voice of Travers: