At this moment the man with the ear-rings observed the form of Aunt Amanda on the ground. He stooped down and examined her, and stood up again. Then he eyed the company of travellers with a hard cold eye, and spoke deliberately and in a low voice. His manner of speech was somewhat stilted and precise, and scarcely what might have been expected of a pirate. "The ceremony," said he, "will be deferred for the moment. I commend you meanwhile to perfect quietness; one movement, and the consequences may be fatal. A hint is sufficient. I perceive here a lady in distress. 'Tis a monstrous pity, indeed. I regret that we were unaware of the presence of a lady; had we known, we should certainly have taken our measures more fittingly. I crave your pardon. No one has yet accused Captain Lingo of rudeness to a lady. Ketch, put up thy cutlass and go straightway to the pool and wet this pocket-handkerchief. Be brisk, thou muddle-pated son of a sea-cook! Haste!" The man called Ketch jumped as though he had been stung, and took from Captain Lingo's hand a fine white cambric handkerchief which the captain had produced from his breeches pocket, and running to the water moistened it and returned in great haste. While this was going on, the poor captives were able to examine their chief captor more carefully. They remarked with surprise the fine quality of the handkerchief which he had handed to his man, and they were even more surprised to note the whiteness and fineness of the linen of his shirt. His breeches were of blue velvet, and his sash and the kerchief which bound his head were of crimson silk. On the fingers of each hand he wore three or four diamond rings, which sparkled brilliantly in the half-darkness. His stockings were plainly of silk, and the buckles at his knees and on his shoes were of polished silver, outlined in diamonds. His face was hard and cruel, but its unpleasantness may have been due to a long scar which crossed his mouth from his right cheek to his chin. When he smiled, as he did in referring to the lady in distress, the scar gave to his face a singularly evil expression. Taking the wet handkerchief from Ketch's hand, he knelt beside Aunt Amanda and bathed her face and wrists, slapping her cheeks and temples smartly now and then with the handkerchief, and changing her position so that her head lay lower than her body. After he had worked over her with much care for a few moments, Aunt Amanda opened her eyes. She was staring at the frightful crooked smile of a strange man with rings in his ears and a kerchief on his head. She started up, bewildered. "Where's Toby? Where am I? Who are you?" "Captain Lingo, ma'am," said the strange man, "at your service." "Let me up," said Aunt Amanda. She struggled to her feet, rejecting the assistance offered by the ear-ring'd man, and stood facing him, her bedraggled bonnet very much over her right ear. "Who are you?" she said again.