Cookie’s tones dripped humility and propitiation.  He offered the brimming cup cringingly to the pale-eyed, red-nosed Chris, who reached for it with alacrity, drank deep, smacked his lips meditatively, and after a moment passed the cup back.

“’Tain’t so worse,” he said approvingly.  “Anyhow, it’s drink!”

Magnus suddenly began to laugh.

“S’elp me, it’s the same dope what laid out the Honorable!” he chortled.  “Here, darky, let’s have a swig of it!”

Cookie complied, joining respectfully in the captain’s mirth.

“I guess you-all is got stronger haids den dat young gennelmun!” he remarked.  “Dis yere ole niggah has help hissef mighty freely and dat Prohibititionist Miss Harding ain’t eveh found it out.  Fac’ is, it am puffeckly harmless ’cept when de haid is weak.”

False, false Cookie!  Black brother in perfidy to Mr. Tubbs!  One friend the less to be depended on if a chance for freedom ever came to us!  A hot flush of surprise and anger dyed my cheeks, and I felt the indignant pang of faith betrayed.  I had been as sure of Cookie’s devotion as of Crusoe’s—­which reminded me that the little dog had not returned to camp since he fled before the onslaught of the vengeful captain.

Cookie refilled the pirates’ cups, and set the crock beside them on the ground.

“In case you gennelmun feels yo’selfs a li’le thursty later on,” he remarked.  He was retiring, when Captain Magnus called to him.

“Blackie, this ain’t bad.  It’s coolin’, but thin—­a real nice ladylike sort of drink, I should say.  Suppose you take a swig over to Miss Jinny there with my compliments—­I’m one to always treat a lady generous if she gives me half a chance.”

Obediently Cookie hastened for another cup, set it on a tray, and approached me with his old-time ornate manner.  I faced him with a withering look, but, unmindful, he bowed, presenting me the cup, and interposing his bulky person between me and the deeply-quaffing pirates.  At the same time his voice reached me, pitched in a low and anxious key.

“Fo’ de Lawd’s sake, Miss Jinny, spill it out!  It am mighty powerful dope—­it done fumented twice as long as befo’—­it am boun’ to give dat trash de blind-staggahs sho’tly!”

Instantly I understood, and a thrill of relief and of hope inexpressible shot through me.  I raised to the troubled black face a glance which I trust was eloquent—­it must needs have been to express the thankfulness I felt.  Cookie responded with a solemn and convulsive wink—­and I put the cup to my lips and after a brief parade of drinking passed it back to Cookie, spilling the contents on the ground en route.

Cookie retired with his tray in his most impressive cake-walk fashion, and in passing announced to Captain Magnus that “Miss Jinny say she mos’ suhtinly am obligated to de gennelmun to’ de refreshment of dis yere acidulous beverage.”  Which bare-faced mendacity provoked a loud roar of amusement from the sentinels, who were still sampling the cooling contents of the stone crock.