Chester rose, swayed a little, and allowed himself to be led toward the steps.
"Distinctly unwan—unwarran'ble liberty," he repeated slowly and with exaggerated dignity.
"Can't help that," replied Keith, as they passed down the steps.
Moniz stood with a dark frown on his forehead as he watched the pair disappear in the semi-darkness. His hands were clenched. His lower lip protruded.
"All right, you American pig!" he muttered, lapsing into his native tongue. "That's another one I owe you. One day soon we shall have a reckoning!"
Which, though Moniz was not sure about it, happened to be strangely prophetic.
The gale, which Keith and his crew of blacks had fought in the whale-boat, had subsided, leaving a heavy ground swell in its wake. There was still a fresh breeze, and the Kestrel ran north to Tao Tao, with the empty whale-boat trailing astern. Chester was in a surly mood, and did not utter a word during the twenty-mile run. Keith, none too sure of his friend's ability to make the Kestrel's usual moorings, kept a close watch, but the god who looks after drunken men and babies helped the planter out.
Next morning Chester appeared at breakfast looking somewhat sheepish, having none too lively
