The old seaman had a broad bandage round his forehead, and Wyzinski walked with the help of a stick. Leaning over the taffrail at some little distance, Hughes and Dom Maxara were in earnest conversation, the blue smoke from the noble's cigarette rising in the air. "I should not have believed in piracy in this age," replied Wyzinski. "Ay, but several vessels have been closely followed by a low rakish black schooner, of small tonnage, but very swift. The `Dawn,' a full-rigged ship I spoke in the latitude of Cape St Andre, had some difficulty in getting away from her." "Is she armed?" asked Wyzinski. "The `Dawn's' people said not, but as the ship happened to be crowded with coolies, it is possible that the schooner would not show her metal." "And you think that the Malays were part of her crew?" "I feel sure of it. The schooner has run into some of the little bays of the coast, and is now doubtless lying within a few miles of us. This night she will make a second attempt." "And will find the Bay empty." "Certainly. In two hours I shall be ready to heave up the anchor, warp the brig well up with the entrance to the Bay, and profit by the breeze, which generally blows from the eastward after sunset." "It would be necessary to move on another account, Captain Weber." "Ay, ay; forty-eight hours would bring some of those fellows up from the bottom bobbing about us, the big chap whose skull I scratched, among the rest." "He gave you some trouble, did he not?" "I should have mastered him single handed," replied the old seaman, "if I had not been trampled on and crushed by both parties. I never quite lost consciousness, but I was very near it when the big villain dashed away on to the quarter-deck." "Mr Lowe," continued the captain, "heave up the anchor, and let me know when you are ready for the warp." "Ay, ay, sir," replied the mate, whose left arm was in a sling, going forward. Captain Hughes, his arms folded, was leaning over the taffrail, when the clink of the capstan made itself heard, as the sailors shipped the bars, and to the merry tones of the flute began heaving up the anchor. Dom Maxara was standing erect beside him, his tall figure and noble bearing telling of a proud and haughty nature. "Isabel has told me what has passed between you, Senhor Capitano," continued the noble; "but though I will never thwart her will, you must remember we know little of each other." "Ours has scarcely been a ball-room meeting," returned the English officer, in a tone scarcely less haughty than that of the Portuguese. "That I am willing to concede, and more, for on one occasion at least my daughter owed you her life, but even that is not a debt on which a noble caballero counts. Are you aware that Isabel, on her father's side, descends from the oldest dukedom of the land, that of the princely house of Cadaval?" His listener bowed stiffly, and the proud noble continued--