“Not Mulford, Jack—­no, not Harry Mulford!  A truer or a nobler heart never beat in a human breast; and you and I will drown together, rather than he should not be taken from that rock.”

“It shall be as you say,” answered Jack, a little thoughtfully.  “Perhaps it would be best that you should quit the brig altogether.  Spike is getting desperate, and you will be safer with the young mate than with so great an old willian.  Yes, you shall go with me, Miss Rose; and if Josh and Simon both refuse, we will go alone.”

“With you, Jack, but not with Mr. Mulford.  I cannot desert my aunt, nor can I quit the Swash alone in company with her mate.  As for Spike, I despise him too much to fear him.  He must soon go into port somewhere, and at the first place where he touches we shall quit him.  He dare not detain us—­nay, he cannot—­and I do not fear him.  We will save Harry, but I shall remain with my aunt.”

“We’ll see, Miss Rose, we’ll see,” said Tier, smiling.  “Perhaps a handsome young man, like Mr. Mulford, will have better luck in persuading you than an old fellow like me.  If he should fail, ’t will be his own fault.”

So thought Jack Tier, judging of women as he had found them, but so did not think Rose Budd.  The conversation ended here, however, each keeping in view its purport, and the serious business that was before them.

The duty of the vessel went on as usual.  The night promised to be clouded, but not very dark, as there was a moon.  When Spike ordered the anchor-watches, he had great care to spare his crew as much as possible, for the next day was likely to be one of great toil to them.  He intended to get the schooner up again, if possible; and though he might not actually pump her out so as to cause her to float, enough water was to be removed to enable him to get at the doubloons.  The situation of the bread-locker was known, and as soon as the cabin was sufficiently freed from water to enable one to move about in it, Spike did not doubt his being able to get at the gold.  With his resources and ingenuity, the matter in his own mind was reduced to one of toil and time.  Eight-and-forty hours, and some hard labour, he doubted not would effect all he cared for.

In setting the anchor-watches for the night, therefore, Stephen Spike bethought him as much of the morrow as of the present moment.  Don Juan offered to remain on deck until midnight, and as he was as capable of giving an alarm as any one else, the offer was accepted.  Josh and Simon were to succeed the Mexican, and to hold the lookout for two hours, when Jack was to relieve them, and to continue on deck until light returned, when he was to give the captain a call.  This arrangement made, Tier turned in at once, desiring the cook to call him half an hour before the proper period of his watch commenced.  That half hour Jack intended to employ in exercising his eloquence in endeavouring to persuade either Josh or Simon to be of his party.  By eight o’clock the vessel lay in a profound quiet, Senor Montefalderon pacing the quarterdeck alone, while the deep breathing of Spike was to be heard issuing through the open window of his state-room; a window which it may be well to say to the uninitiated, opened in-board, or toward the deck, and not outboard, or toward the sea.