During the reembarkation of the treasure, the captain, as well as Shirley and Burke, had kept a sharp eye on Garta.  The two mates were afraid he might run away, but, had he done so, the captain would not have regretted it very much.  He would gladly have parted with one of the bags in order to get rid of this encumbrance.  But the prisoner had no idea of running away.  He knew that the bags were filled with treasure, but as he could now do nothing with any of it that he might steal, he did not try to steal any.  If he had thoughts of the kind, he knew this was no time for dishonest operation.  He had always been a hardworking sailor, with a good appetite, and he worked hard now, and ate well.

The Miranda’s stores had not been injured by water, and when they had been put on board, the Arato was well fitted out for a long voyage.  Leaving the Miranda on the beach, with nothing in her of much value, the Arato, which had cleared for Callao, and afterwards set out on a wild piratical cruise, now made a third start, and set sail for a voyage to France.  They had good weather and tolerably fair winds, and before they entered the Straits of Magellan the captain had formulated a plan for the disposition of Garta.

“I don’t know anything better to do with him,” said he to Shirley and Burke, “than to put him ashore at the Falkland Islands.  We don’t want to take him to France, for we would not know what to do with him after we got him there, and, as likely as not, he would swear a lot of lies against us as soon as he got on shore.  We can run within a league of Stanley harbor, and then, if the weather is good enough, we can put him in a boat, with something to eat and drink, and let him row himself into port.  We can give him money enough to support himself until he can procure work.”

“But suppose there is a man-of-war in there,” said Shirley, “he might say things that would send her after us.  He might not know where to say we got our treasure, but he could say we had stolen a Chilian vessel.”

“I had thought of that,” said the captain, “but nothing such a vagrant as he is could say ought to give any cruiser the right to interfere with us when we are sailing under the American flag.  And when I go to France, nobody shall say that I stole a vessel, for, if the owners of the Arato can be found, they shall be well paid for what use we have made of their schooner.  I’ll send her back to Valparaiso and let her be claimed.”

“It is a ticklish business,” said Burke, “but I don’t know what else can be done.  It is a great pity I didn’t know he was going to surrender when we had that fight.”

They had been in the Straits less than a week when Inkspot dreamed he was in heaven.  His ecstatic visions became so strong and vivid that they awakened him, when he was not long in discovering the cause which had produced them.  The dimly lighted and quiet forecastle was permeated by a delightful smell of spirituous liquor.  Turning his eyes from right to left, in his endeavors to understand this unusual odor of luxury, Inkspot perceived the man Garta standing on the other side of the forecastle, with a bottle in one hand and a cork in the other, and, as he looked, Garta raised the bottle to his mouth, threw back his head, and drank.