indulge in. The pirates were busily overhauling their gear, filling water casks, calking dried-out seams, and sluicing opening decks with copious streams of water, just as they were used to do in the palmy days when Red Jabez kept them gorged with pillage.

Milo hurried faster, for he feared they too had sighted his ship, and sprang down to the shore to accost surly Caliban.

“Here, Milo old buck, stick yer beak into this, lad!” screamed Caliban, thrusting forward a brimming horn of wine. The giant declined impatiently, waving a hand toward the activity afoot.

“What, won’t drink luck, hey?” cried the dwarf, emptying the horn himself. “Ain’t got the news yet, hey?”

“News? What news can such as thee have that I am not told?”