I found much to interest me in Pernambuco. The harbor was crowded with shipping, amongst which the British and Norwegian flags predominated; but my eyes were gladdened quite frequently by the sight of the stars and stripes. The head stevedore, who had charge of loading the brig, was a half-breed named Pedro. He spoke very fair English, and during one of our frequent talks, I casually mentioned Fernando de Noronha. “Ah, Diabalo!” he exclaimed, his black eyes glittering, “My brother—poor Manuel—he is there!” “Why, is he a prisoner?” I asked in surprise. “What for else should he be there?” he replied, shrugging his shoulders. “Santa Maria! he will never come back.” Then he related the story of Manuel, after which, by a little questioning, I found that Pedro knew several things about the island of interest to me. He said that occasionally, when vessels were becalmed there, a boat was sent ashore for melons, which grew in great abundance on a very small island near the larger one. A suit of clothes or a sack of flour would buy more melons than would go in the boat. We were thirty-one days in Pernambuco discharging and reloading, but at last the stores were on board and everything ready, and the day before sailing, I accompanied Ralph to the Custom House to “clear the brig.” We put to sea on Monday afternoon, and at daybreak next morning the convict island should be in sight, if the wind held at northwest. I was much excited, now that my hopes were so near fruition, for that something of value was concealed at the foot of the palm tree I did not doubt; else why had I dreamed of this out-of-the-way spot, of which I had never even heard? That night we consulted together, and carefully matured our plans, for Ralph had come to take nearly as much interest in the outcome of the affair as I. He refused to go ashore himself, saying that it was against all custom for a captain ever to leave his vessel while she was on a voyage, but that Seth Hawkins and two of the crew should go in the boat with us. “And now, Uncle,” said Ralph, “please realize one thing. In putting off a boat, I shall be doing something I’d do for no one but you, as it is the duty of a captain to take his vessel from one port to another without any unnecessary delay. So don’t lose any time on the island, for I shall feel guilty as it is.” I grasped his hand warmly, and whispered: “Ralph, if I am any richer to-morrow night than I am now, you shall profit by it.” He smiled, and said: “By the way, I shall have to let Hawkins into the affair to a limited extent, for he knows very well I’d not send ashore simply to get melons. He’s been with me two years, and can be trusted.” Eight bells struck; the second dog-watch was over, and Ralph went below to turn in, while Seth Hawkins and I paced the deck together,—he telling me some interesting reminiscences of his life in Hong Kong, where he had once kept a sailors’ boarding house.