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The Captain of the “Wing of the Wind,” after a few moments
spent in looking around him, approached Faulcon with an air
of seeming frankness, and said with a smile:

“Well, my moral friend, we are now off the Havanna. What is
your decision, to go on shore, or remain and try your fortunes on the
sea with me. You are by no means rich, yet, and are not so likely
to be so any where as by sticking to the schooner!”

“I have already given you my answer, Captain Lightfoot,” replied
Faulcon firmly. “What is your intention touching your passengers?”

“I keep my own counsel. As I no longer consider you an officer
of the ship, I shall not deem it my duty to consult with you. It will
depend, however, on the Don himself. I have just sent word to him
in his state-room, by my steward, that I wish to converse with him
in the cabin. I will go down and see what he will say!”

Lightfoot then left him and descended into the cabin. Faulcon
felt a strong impulse to follow him, and be present at the interview;
but feared bringing on a crisis prematurely that might defeat his ultimate
success. He, however, recollecting that the sky-light was open,
sauntered aft, and took a position near it, so that he could look down
into the centre of the cabin, and where he might catch something of
what should transpire. The great events at stake, he felt, justified
him in thus listening.

When Lightfoot entered the cabin, Don Diego Valido was already
there. He was a tall, thin, intellectual looking man, with a dark olive
complexion, black hair, half sown with the silver dust of fifty years.
He was seated in an arm chair, but when the captain entered, he rose
and bowed with dignity. His face was pale, and the expression at
once anxious and keenly inquiring.

“We are off Havanna, senor,” said Lightfoot, throwing himself
upon a sofa, and motioning to his captive to be seated.

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“Yes, I have seen the Moro from the cabin windows! I trust now
you are ready to fulfil your promise, to ransom me and my daughter,”
added Don Diego, firmly regarding his countenance.

“That will be as circumstances turn up, Don Diego,” answered
Lightfoot with a careless air.

“It can depend on no contingency, senor captain,” replied the
Spaniard, with a look of surprise and displeasure. “I am not ignorant
of your present position as an outlaw from all flags; but yet, as
we were captured in open and fair warfare by you, under the Colombian
colors, it is but justice that we should be liberated freely, now
that hostilities have ceased!”

“I am no longer bound by what occurred under the Colombian
flag, senor!”

“Yet you are bound by the laws of humanity and honor!”

“I am the judge of this, not you!”

“You should at once set me and my child on shore. Instead of
that, you demand an enormous ransom. From an honorable officer
in the service of a republic, you are all at once a pirate, demanding
gold for the liberty of your captives!”

“You are rich, I am poor, Don Diego. If you love your money
more than liberty, be it so. I will set sail northward, and still give
you free passage with me wherever I cruise!”

“No—you shall have the money!”

“I am then content. What authority will you give me to obtain it?”

“My check on my banker!”

“Fill it out at once. I cannot delay long off the port, lest I draw
the attention of the authorities, and they send out a cutter to learn
who I am!”

“If I give you an order for ten thousand dollars, you will”—

“Twenty thousand, Don Diego,” said Lightfoot coolly.

“Twenty thousand! senor captain,” repeated the Spanish gentleman
with indignant surprise.

“Yes, not a peso less!”

“You said ten thousand, yesterday!”

“Ten thousand be it then, for your own ransom, if you leave your
lovely daughter on board! Ten thousand, otherwise, for her!”

Don Diego looked as if he would vent his fierce anger and contempt
in speech; but trembling for the safety of his beloved child, he
drew forth his pocket-book, and taking from it a stamped paper, filled
it for the whole amount. Lightfoot watched him with a smile of peculiar
triumph.

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“But before I place this in your hands, senor, what security have
I that you will, when you receive the money, liberate me and the
Don Adelaida?”

“My word!”

“It is not enough!”

“You must abide by it, for I can give you no other, Don Diego!”

“It is no security, senor. You will not abide by it unless you
please. I cannot trust you!”

“Very well,” answered Lightfoot, rising and speaking in a tone of
well-feigned indifference; “all then that remains, is for me to make
sail and leave Havanna behind!”

The Spaniard was for a few moments silent. He seemed undecided
how to act.

“Come, senor, time pressed!”

“I refuse to send for the money,” he answered in a tone very positive
and firm.

“Then let the consequences that may follow to you, aye, and to
your daughter, rest upon your own head!”

At this moment the beauteous Senorita Valido entered hurriedly
from her state-room. She threw herself, all tears, and trembling with
fears that could not otherwise than fill her with the deepest alarm
for herself, left longer in the power of a man like Lightfoot.

“Do what he asks, dearest father? Make no resistance to his demand.
Trust to his word, and I feel assured he will honorably fulfil
it!”

Lightfoot gazed upon the charming girl with admiration, as she
hung upon her father, looking with beautiful earnestness up into his
face, for the signs of his compliance with her entreaty. He thought
he had never beheld so lovely a creature. Her tall and graceful
figure voluptuously pliant at the waist, and bending like a willow with
every motion; her dark, lustrous eyes, rich with the full depths of
feeling; the enchanting contour of her superb head and faultless profile,
altogether with the bewildering power that dwells ever in beauty
in tears, thrilled him to the soul, and enchained his senses. He had
not before fully felt the fascinating spell of her presence.

“Her faith in my honor, so prettily spoken, had well nigh made me
resolve to keep faith to her father,” he said mentally; “but I shall no
longer keep it. Her beauty has sealed her own fate! Sooner would
I lose my schooner than so fair a treasure! But I must conceal my
feelings. Don Diego,” he added aloud, “I give you my word that I

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will, on receiving the money on board, at once land you in my boat
at Havanna!”

“Father, consent! There is no alternative!” exclaimed Adelaida.

“Be it so! I will trust him! Here, senor, is the order for the
ransom for myself and my daughter. I hope you will use despatch.
The address of the banker is written at the foot of the draft.”

“This will be paid without inquiry?”

“Yes. It is but four weeks since we left Havanna, near which, as
I have said, I reside, in the Spanish ship you captured, to visit Vera
Cruz, where I had business!”

“I will say then that the draft came from Vera Cruz. Date it
at that place. Thanks, senor! This will make it surer! I hope
within three or four hours you will once more tread the green shores
of your native isle, fair lady,” said Lightfoot, as he left the cabin for
the deck.

On reaching it, he called Westwood to his side.

“I have the order for the Don's ransom here. I got it without resorting
to violence, through the intercession of his charming daughter;
I entrust it to you. You will find the banking-house in El Calle Militar.
Present it with confidence, saying that it came from Vera Cruz,
where the Don, after a little hesitation, dated it. The money will be
paid you in gold and silver, which you will at once get exchanged
into a draft on New York, whither I intend to sail after leaving this
island. Use all despatch. Take with you my gig with four oars. I
have selected the men. I have ordered them to keep close in the
boat, and hold communication with no one. They, however, can be
trusted. Now let there be no delay. Leave the schooner at once!”

“You are sending off a boat, sir,” said Faulcon, as the gig came under
the lee gangway for Westwood to get into it.

“Yes, Westwood goes for the ransom money.”

“I will go on shore with him then!”

“No, you had best wait until the Don goes,” answered Lightfoot, with
a look as if he suspected that Faulcon wished to betray the character of his
vessel to some one of the men-of-war in port; and this was, indeed, the
motive which led Faulcon to ask to go there. No other would have
tempted him to quit the schooner, leaving Adelaida on board; but while
the cutter was getting ready, the idea suddenly flashed upon his mind, that
if he could get intelligence to the sloop of war Lexington, which he
saw lying at anchor in the harbor, she might send out her boats and capture
her, as the wind was too light to suffer her to escape. He felt vexed
at the refusal to let him go; but with that self-confidence and courage

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which characterised him in scenes of peril, he resolved to abide the
issue.

It was about eight in the morning when the lieutenant of the schooner
quitted it for the city. Six bells had just struck, when Faulcon, who had
been nearly the whole of the three hours pacing the deck and anxiously
watching the shore, discerned the cutter returning from her mission.

At length, as it came near, it was apparent to all that Lieutenant Westwood
was not on board. This discovery had evidently been made much
sooner by Lightfoot, who had been watching her through his glass, and
who seemed very greatly annoyed, without Faulcon's suspecting the cause,
until the nearer progress of the boat gave him the explanation. He feared
the worst—possibly that the money had been refused to him and that
he had sent off for instructions. The boat at length reached the side with
the four oarsmen.

“Where is Mr. Westwood?” demanded Lightfoot, as calmly as he
could speak, for he began to suspect that his lieutenant had proved treacherous.

“Here is a note from him, sir,” answered the bow-oarsman as he stepped
across the gangway.

“Oh, then all is right, I dare say,” answered Lightfoot.

He did not, however, open the note on deck, but descended into the
cabin, for his suspicions were still alive, and he did not care to betray to
Faulcon's keen observation any of his emotions.

Alone, he tore the seal. The missle read as follows:—

“Havanna, Calle Militar.
“My Dear Captain:

From a child I have prayed as hard as I knew how, never
to be led into temptation; but then I never expected I should be tempted with such
a round lump as twenty thousand bright silver dollars! To tell you frankly, the
temptation is irresistible. I have beat against it, but it has fairly got to the windward
of me. I have weighed the whole matter and feel that I shall not again have
such an opportunity to make my fortune; and so I tender you my resignation. It
is better to have twenty thousand in hand, than run the chance of picking it up at
sea from prizes, and then by-and-bye swing at the yard-arm of a man-of-war. I am
content with the cool “XX”. I do but follow your example with the Colombians.
I take this with better conscience, inasmuch as it does no injury either to the Don or
his daughter; for had the money got on board they would never have come off. So,
taking this moral view of the case, I shall decline going on board again. I shall
take this note to the cutter and despatch it to you. I wish you a pleasant cruise,
plenty of prize money, and plenty of slack to the rope that will one day be gently
bent about your neck with a running noose.

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