Was she also exposed to this storm? The chances seemed to favor such a conclusion. He began to make new inquiries concerning her sea worthiness. Was her crew English or Spanish? If the latter he had grave doubts. Captain Beven was able to give him some information that eased his mind. The steamer while mature in years was not an old hulk, by any means--Beven had himself once served on her as second officer during a voyage to Singapore, and he had reason to commend her seaworthy qualities. As to her present outfit he believed it was mostly English and Swedes, though there might be a few Spanish among them. The captain was an ancient tar, a dare devil who had seen service all over the earth, been engaged in South American naval wars, was with China in her conflict against Japan, and bore the scars of a dozen wounds. Such a man, afraid of nothing on earth, made an ideal blockade runner. The bold Yankees would find that they did not quite monopolize all the valor on earth with their Hobsons and Deweys. There were others, of the same strain and speech, whom no danger could daunt. This was Captain Beven's tribute to the commander of the blockade runner. Roderic was not sorry to hear it, since _she_ would be safer in the charge of such a wonderful seaman. He went down to dinner in this state of anxiety, but under the lively sallies of his cousin soon recovered his usual good spirits. Cleo could arouse him more quickly than any one else he knew--she seemed to appeal to some chord in his composition which responded just as the harp does to the touch of the musician. When they came on deck again after dinner, the little steam yacht was just entering the harbor. Captain Beven, knowing how fond the Portuguese are of ceremony and display, fired his little cannon in salute as they passed the picturesque old fort and castle guarding the bay, and after a little delay, quite excusable with the Portuguese gunners, an answering salvo came from the frowning battlements that, seen in daylight were probably not one quarter as dangerous looking as they appeared under the tender light of the young moon. They found an anchorage among other shipping, where they could swing at anchor. At the most only a short stop was intended here. They would take on board fresh water, some fruits and vegetables, together with chickens and eggs. During the few hours in the morning while this was being done, Roderic and his cousin expected to go ashore and see what the place of which they had frequently heard yet never seen, looked like. They could easily give a guess. There is a striking similarity among all ports under Spanish and Portuguese flags. The picturesque struggles with disorder--from a little distance the view is entrancing, but familiarity breeds contempt. Especially is this true with the rank odors that usually predominate.