"Our passengers should arrive this afternoon. Dom Assevedo's messenger said so, did he not, Captain Weber?" "Yes, and that haze to the southward and eastward tells of a blow. It will be a foul wind for us. We must make sail before sunset, Mr Blount." "I think," remarked the younger man, "I see a boat crossing the bar, there, right over that Madras fellow's stern." "Well, I hope it may be them. We have more fever on board than I care to see, and I hate this hot, unhealthy hole. Rouse up the watch, Mr Blount, and heave short at once." "Ay, ay, sir," replied the mate, touching his cap, round which ran a narrow strip of gold lace, and moving away. The captain remained where he was, watching the black specks, for there were three of them, rising and falling on the waves outside Quillimane bar. The decks of the brig were no longer deserted, and the shipping of the capstan bars told that the orders just given were being carried out. "Bring to, starboard cable," called the first officer from the quarter-deck. "Ay, ay, sir," was the ready response, for the seamen were tired of riding at anchor off the bar, and the click of the capstan, as they stamped round to a merry tune of the flute, was music to officers and men alike. "Up and down, sir," was the cry of the second mate, who on the forecastle was superintending the duty of heaving up the anchor, and which term meant that the brig was right over her anchor. "Heaving away, sir," came again the cheering shout, as the anchor left the ground and the men strained every nerve to run the heavy mass up to the brig's bows. The flute rang out a merrier tune, round and round went the capstan bars, then came the second officer's loud shout of "Heaving in sight, sir," as the men suddenly stopped in their merry round. "Cat and fish the anchor, Mr Lowe. Bring to the port cable. Heave short," were the brief words of command from the quarter-deck. "All ready with the cat, sir," was the responsive shout, soon followed by the customary words, "All ready with the fish, sir," while the men, the starboard anchor being got on board, duly secured, or, in more nautical terms, catted and fished, clapped on the port or remaining anchor, which now alone held the brig, gently rolling to the swell, and that in its turn being soon up and down, Mr Blount reported to his superior officer. "Do you make out the boats, sir?" he added, as Captain Weber still remained looking towards shore. "Ay, ay," replied the seaman. "There's Dom Assevedo's barge, the lubberly Portuguese blowing and puffing like grampus at their oars." "Rig out a tackle from the main yard. We shall have to hoist the lady in, and perhaps the Dom too, like a bale of cotton." "Ay, ay, sir," replied the mate. "Make sail, Mr Blount; brace up the headyards. Let me know when you are ready." Ten minutes later the passengers were on board, and Dom Assevedo's barge veered astern.