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Updated: June 29, 2025
He went out into the glorious night. It was dark and windy, and the sky was cloudy, but to him all things were glorious. He sat down on the pavement in the cosey corner of two walls, and there he slept luxuriously until a policeman came along and arrested him for being drunk in the street. It was two days before Inkspot got out of the hands of the police.
The men now swore at Inkspot, but as they saw he was unarmed, and not inclined to violence, they were not afraid of him, but they wondered at him. The horse-dealer took the piece of gold out of his pocket and held it in his hand. "Did you ever see anything like that before?" he asked. He was a shrewd man, the horse-dealer, and really wanted to know what was the matter with the negro.
The sight of that piece of gold had given to Inkspot, by one quick flash, a view of his negro friends and companions, of Captain Horn and his two white men, of the brig he had left, of the hammock in which he had slept of all, in fact, that he now cared for on earth. He had seen pieces of gold like that.
Maka quickly perceived that the man was Inkspot, and as he could not imagine what he was doing, he quietly watched him. Inkspot worked with as little noise as possible, but he was evidently bent upon forcing off one of the boards on the side of the forecastle.
In the first place, they made him sit down with them, and offered him something to drink. It was not whiskey, but Inkspot liked it very much, and felt all sorts of good effects from it. In fact, it gave him a power of expressing himself by gestures and single words in a manner wonderful.
But the Miranda did not remain in the cove the next night, and poor Inkspot looked with longing eyes upon the slowly departing spot on the sands where he knew the Rackbirds' storehouse was located.
But where the vessel was loaded with the gold, they could not find out. No grimace that Inkspot could make, nor word that he could say, gave them an idea worth dwelling upon. He said some words which made them believe that the vessel had cleared from Acapulco, but it was foolish to suppose that any vessel had been loaded there with bags of gold carried on men's shoulders.
Maka could not help thinking that Inkspot had a wonderful nose for an empty bottle, and could scarcely restrain from a shudder at the thought of what might have happened had the bottle been full. But he did not report the occurrence. Inkspot was a fellow-African, and he had barely escaped punishment for his former misdeed. It would be better to keep his mouth shut, and he did.
At first Maka thought that his fellow-African was trying to sink the ship by opening a seam, but he soon realized that this notion was absurd, and so he let Inkspot go on, being very curious to know what he was doing. In a few minutes he knew. With a slight noise, not enough to waken a sound sleeper, a little door flew open, and almost immediately Inkspot held a bottle in his hand.
"Cap'n Horn?" said he. Inkspot clapped his hands again, and exclaimed: "Ay, ay! Cap' 'Or! Cap' 'Or!" He shouted the words so loudly that the barkeeper, at the other end of the room, called out gruffly that they'd better keep quiet, or they would have somebody coming in. "There you have it!" exclaimed Cardatas, in Spanish. "It's Cap'n Horn that the fool's been trying to say.
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