power of habitual
control may do much for a leader among such men; but such an one must
neither quail nor _deceive_. Therefore, _beware_! Let none of your
actions mar my projects. Let them never suspect the truth of our
consanguinity. Call me 'uncle;' and in my mouth you shall always be
'Theodore.' Ask no questions; be civil, cheerful, and serviceable
about the _rancho_; never establish an intimacy, confidence, or
friendship with any _one_ of the band; stifle your feelings and your
tears if you ever find them rising to your lips or eyes; talk as
little as you possibly can; avoid that smooth-tongued Frenchman; keep
away from our revels, and refrain entirely from wine.

"I charge you to be specially watchful of Gallego, the cook. He is our
man of dirty work,--a shameless coward, though revengeful as a cat. If
it shall ever happen that you come in collision with him, _strike
first and well_; no one cares for him; even his death will make no
stir. Take this _cuchillo_,--it is sharp and reliable; keep it near
you day and night; and, _in self-defence_, do not hesitate to make
good use of it. In a few days, I may say more to you; until
then,--_corragio figlio, e addio!_"

We returned to the _rancho_ by different paths.

CHAPTER V.

The life of men under the ban of society, on a desolate sand key,
whose only visitors are land-crabs and sea-gulls, is a dull and dreary
affair. The genuine pirate, properly equipped for a desperate lot, who
has his swift keel beneath him and is wafted wheresoever he lists on
canvas wings, encounters, it is true, an existence of peril; yet there
is something exhilarating and romantic in his dashing career of
incessant peril: he is ever on the wing, and ever amid novelty; there
is something about his life that smacks of genuine warfare, and his
existence becomes as much more respectable as the old-fashioned
highwayman on his mettlesome steed was superior to the sneaking
footpad, who leaped from behind a thicket and bade the unarmed
pedestrian stand and deliver. But the wrecker-pirate takes his victim
at a disadvantage, for he is not a genuine freebooter of the sea. He
shuns an able foe and strikes the crippled. Like the shark and the
eagle, he delights to prey on the carcass, rather than to strike the
living quarry.

The companionship into which misfortune had thrown me was precisely of
this character, and I gladly confess that I was never tempted for a
moment to bind up my fate with t