of that reef. If that felucca's keel touches one of
those coral ledges there won't be a tooth-pick left of her in ten
minutes. San Antonio! but that was a close shave! How the sharks would
rasp your bones, for there's no flesh on them! Grazed clear, eh?
_Bueno!_ now you're in blue water, you rapacious scoundrelly old wretch,
and make the most of it."

Captain Brand waved his hand in adieu to the felucca, which, with the
wind off shore, had crept through the coral gateway, and, with her great
lateen sail and green glancing bottom, was rising and falling on the
long swell as she slipped away to the eastward. He then gulped down his
tea, made one or two savage bites at his toast, and again walked out to
the veranda, descended the ladder, and took his course toward the
basin.

There, too, the scene had changed; and instead of the tranquil, shelly
shore, only agitated by the musical rippling from the pure little inlet,
the faint cry of a sea-gull, or the chirps of the lizards in the
crevices of the rocks across the basin, those sounds had given place to
the nimble feet and voices of busy sailors. The "Centipede," also, had
been towed from her moorings to a jetty which projected into the water
from the shore, and there she lay, careened down, her keel half out of
the water, with a dozen of her crew scrubbing her lean sides till the
green-coated copper came flashing out in the sunlight like burnished
gold. With her slanting masts lashed to the jetty, carpenters were
engaged reducing the length of the fore-mast, and trimming out a spar
for a new bowsprit. The long gun, with its carriage, lay near, and
artisans were at work at a temporary forge, hammering out bolts and
straps to replace those which were weakened by long service. On the
shore, too, were a score or more of the piratical gang--Spaniards,
negroes, Indians, Italians, and who not--ferocious-looking scoundrels,
busy as bees, splicing and knotting ropes, stretching new rigging,
cutting running gear from the coils of hemp or Manilla-grass rope, or
making spun-yarn and chafing-mats; while beneath the low mat sheds hard
by, sail-makers were stitching away with their shining needles, making a
set of square sails for the changed rig of the "Centipede," or repairing
old sails. But this was not all; for in a shed beyond was the armorer,
with a few hands, grinding pikes and cutlasses, and cleaning small arms;
while farther still was the gunner and his mate, filling powder-cas