The man understood me, and shook his head. “Pretty cool fists,” thought I, “to send this poor devil aft, while _you_ enjoy yourselves with your songs and pipes and grog! Here is a shipwrecked man; what care you? He is a poor rag of a man, and very fit to be put upon; so it has been, ’Aft with ye and grip them spokes, while a better man than e’er a mumping Spaniard in all Americay comes for’ard and enjoys himself.” But it was not a matter to be mended while the fellows were in the full of their jollification. “_Como se llama esto?_” exclaimed a voice at my elbow, and a small hand, gleaming with rings, was projected into the sheen of the binnacle lamp. I started, conceiving that the lady was still at the bulwark rail, deep in thought or listening to the singing. “I do not understand,” said I. “Ow you call, señor?” exclaimed Jorge. She pointed to the compass, wanting its name in English. I pronounced the word and she echoed it very clearly; then lightly laying her hand upon my arm she took a few steps forward, and, pointing to the sea, asked again in Spanish what that was called. In this way I gave her some dozen words; and when I believed she was about to ask for more terms she, with her hand laid lightly on my arm, led me back to the wheel, and, pointing to the compass, pronounced its name in English, then indicated the sea, uttering the word, and so she went through the list she had got, blundering but once, at the word “star,” which she pronounced _zar_. By this time the singing had come to an end; the starbowlines, as the starboard watch were then termed, were dropping below; the lady went to the skylight and looked at the time; then, coming up to me, she put her hand out and said: “_Buenas noches, caballero._” I answered, “Good-night, señorita.” She shook her head; by the cabin lamplight flowing up through the open frames I saw her smiling. She repeated, “Good-night, _caballero_” in Spanish. Seeing her wish, I said good-night in the same language, imitating her accent. “_Es admirable!_” she exclaimed, and then went toward the companion way, meaning to go below. But I had resolved that this handsome, amiable, lovely Spanish lady should be made as comfortable on board us as the resources of the brig permitted, and I detained her by a polite gesture while I called to one of the men forward to send Antonio aft. The fellow was turned in and he kept us waiting ten minutes, during which the lady and I stood dumb as a pair of ghosts, she no doubt wondering why I held her on deck, though she did not exhibit the least uneasiness in her bearing so far as I was able to make out in the starlit darkness. When Antonio appeared I requested him to ask the lady if she wished for anything the brig could supply her with. Antonio translated sulkily and sleepily. “No, señor,” said he, “the lady wants for nothing. She is wearied and entreats permission to retire to rest.”