We slipped silently up the inside, the northerly passage, to the lagoon, and crept up the lagoon just as silently, but even as we were mooring the Bess in a nook at the head of the lagoon, a tall Arab was alongside.  With him Captain Blaise and I went ashore in the ship’s long-boat, and to avoid suspicion we took no arms.  An hour of camp-fires and shadows under the trees we wasted then with this sharp trader Hassan.  No printed calicoes, or brass rings, or looking-glasses for him, nor rum, he being a true believer.  Nothing of that; but of gold paid into hand, and plenty of it there must be.  And Captain Blaise, to allay suspicion, discussed matters hotly.  Finally he agreed to the Arab’s terms, and Hassan salaamed, and out under the open sky we went again.

“A proper villain, Guy, is that fellow.  Did you ever see so wonderfully cunning a smile?  And in the morning I am to give him a draft on Rimmle!  Sometimes I think there must be something infantile about me, strangers do pick me up for such an innocent at times.  But in the morning, my shrewd Hassan—­”

Naked feet padded beside us.  “O Marster Carpt’n, Marster Carpt’n, suh—­”

“You, Ubbo!”

“Yes, suh, Marster Carpt’n.”  It was a short, very stout, and very black negro who stood at attention before Captain Blaise.

“Where’s your master?”

“Waitin’, Carpt’n, suh.  He sick, suh, but not so he die, he say, suh.”

“And Miss Shiela?”

“Missy Shiela at de Governor’s, suh.  An’ de missy know you come too, suh.  I been watchin’, suh, for long time.  I see de ship, suh, an’ I know you come over de bar, suh, to-night.  An’ I tell de marster, suh.  An’ marster waitin’, an’ Missy Shiela waitin’, Marster Carpt’n, to take um away—­to take um home, suh.  He very sick, suh.”

“After us, Ubbo.”

We raced to where was the long-boat, screened under a bank.  From her crew we took four good men and followed Ubbo.

The roof of a low building loomed above the jungle growth.  Ubbo uttered a warning sound.  We could hear the regular tread and presently a form showed around the corner of the house.  It was a negro in uniform with a musket held carelessly over his shoulder.

Captain Blaise whispered to his men:  “When he comes around again get him.  No noise.  Choke him first.”  The four sailors leaped together when next he appeared.  In an instant almost it was done.  They laid him on the ground, threw his musket into the brush, and we entered the building.

On a cot beside an open window, with a reading-lamp at his head, lay a tall man.

“Still alive, Gad,” called Captain Blaise cheerily.

“Still alive, Blaise, and I reckon you did a neat job on that nigger guard, for all I heard was a little gurgling.  Yes, still alive.  Still alive, Blaise, thanks to Shiela’s discrimination in the selection of the Governor’s nourishing cordials, and thanks no less to my boy Ubbo’s sleepless habits.  But, old friend, you’re none too soon.  And don’t waste any time in getting Shiela.  She is still at the Governor’s.  I bade her stay there so they would not suspect.  She has my sabre and duelling pistols with her, by the way.  And she’ll bear a hand with them, if need be.  But who is this?  Oh, this is Guy?  I’m glad to know you, Guy.”