to be kicked about, and spoken to like a dog.  I went back to my polishing of brass in a more cheerful mood—­perhaps this would prove the first step leading to my greater future liberty on the Namur.  I had finished my labor on the carronade, and was fastening down securely the tarpaulin, when a thin, stoop-shouldered fellow, with a hang-dog face crept up the ladder to the poop, and shuffled over to where LeVere was gazing out over the rail, oblivious to his approach.

“Mister LeVere, sir,” he spoke apologetically, his voice no more than a wisp of sound.

The mulatto wheeled about startled.

“Oh, it’s you!  Well, what is it, Gunsaules?”

“Senor Estada, sir; he wishes to see a sailor named Gates in the cabin.”

“Who?  Gates?  Oh, yes, the new man.”  He swept his eyes about, until he saw me.  “Gates is your name, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Follow the steward below; Senor Estada wishes to see you—­go just as you are.”

“Very good, sir—­is this the steward?”

The fellow led the way, amusing me by the peculiar manner in which his long legs clung to the ladder, and then wobbled about on the rolling deck until he attained the protection of the companion-way.  A half dozen broad, uncarpeted steps led down into the after cabin, which was plain and practically without furniture, except for a bare table suspended from the upper beams and a few chairs securely resting in chocks.  The deck was bare, but had been thoroughly scrubbed, the water not entirely dried, and forward there was a rack of small arms, the polished steel shining in the gray light of the transom overhead.  The Dutch character of the bark was very apparent here, in the excessively heavy deck beams, and the general gloom of the interior, finished off in dark wood and ornamented with carved paneling.  Filled with wonderment as to why I had been sent for, I halted at the foot of the steps gazing about the dreary interior, surprised at its positive dinginess.  There were evidently six staterooms opening on the main cabin, and these must be little more than boxes to judge from the breadth of the vessel.  What was farther aft I could not determine because of a lack of light, but as no stern ports were visible, it was to be assumed that this gave space for two more larger staterooms directly astern—­occupied probably by the Captain and his first officer.  There was no one in the main cabin, although a cat lay asleep on one of the chairs, and after a moment’s hesitancy, I followed the beckoning steward, who rapped with his knuckles on one of the side doors.  Estada’s voice answered.

“Who is it?”

“Gunsaules, Senor; I have with me the sailor.”  “Open the door, and let him in; I would see him here.  Come inside, Gates.”  His eyes surveyed us both in the narrow opening.  “That will be all Juan; no one is to be admitted until I tell you—­and, ’twill be well for you to remain by the stairs on guard, you understand?”