“Ho! for the Jolly Roger lads; Ho! for the decks red-streaming. A pirate’s lass is a well-lov’d lass, And there’s gold through the red a gleaming!

“Ho! for a cask in the fire’s red glow; Ho! for the heaps of plunder. There are showers of pearls for the pirates’ girls — The rain from the corsair’s thunder!”

At the end of her song Pascherette halted, listened, then called softly:

“Sancho! Thy Pascherette calls!”

Silence prevailed for several moments, and she called again, fearing that her voice had gone astray amid the increasing confusion of the trees. Then came a lull in the wind, the lull that always punctuated the gathering of such tropical storms as now threatened; and in the hush she heard voices —