iranda_ went out to sea as gayly as the nature of her build
permitted, which is not saying much. It was a good wind, however, and
when the log had been thrown, the captain remarked that the brig was
making better time than she had made since they left Acapulco.

CHAPTER XXXVI

A HORSE-DEALER APPEARS ON THE SCENE

When the brig _Miranda_ was lying at anchor in the Rackbirds' cove, and
Mr. George Burke had silently left her in order to go on shore and pursue
some investigations in which he was interested, his departure from the
brig had not been, as he supposed, unnoticed. The big, good-natured
African, known as Inkspot, had been on watch, and, being himself so very
black that he was not generally noticeable in the dark, was standing on a
part of the deck from which, without being noticed himself, he saw a
person get over the taffrail and slip into the water. He knew this person
to be the second mate, and having a high respect and some fear of his
superiors, he did not consider it his business to interfere with him. He
saw a head above the water, moving toward the shore, but it soon
disappeared in the darkness. Toward the end of his watch, he had seen Mr.
Burke climb up the vessel's side as silently as he had gone down it, and
disappear below.

When Inkspot went to his hammock, which he did very shortly afterwards,
he reflected to the best of his ability upon what he had seen. Why did
Mr. Burke slip away from the ship so silently, and come back in the same
way? He must have gone ashore, and why did he want no one to know that he
had gone? He must have gone to do something he ought not to do, and
Inkspot could think of nothing wrong that Mr. Burke would like to do,
except to drink whiskey. Captain Horn was very particular about using
spirits on board, and perhaps Mr. Burke liked whiskey, and could not get
it. Inkspot knew about the storehouse of the Rackbirds, but he did not
know what it had contained, or what had been left there. Maka had said
something about the whiskey having been poured out on the sand, but that
might have been said just to keep people away from the place. If there
were no whiskey there, why did Mr. Burke go on shore?

Now, it so happened that Inkspot knew a good deal about whiskey. Before
he had gone into the service of the Rackbirds, he had, at different
times, been drunk, and he had the liveliest and most pleasant
recollections of these experiences. It had been a long time since he had