powder-horn. It was a prolific day and a long-lasting one, and
weary were we with all our hunting and our getting and our
gathering, when at last we clambered into the captain's gig and
rowed back to a late tea.

The following day my conscience rose up and accused me. This was
not what I had come out to do. These triflings with pearls and
parrakeets, these al fresco luncheons off yams and bananas--
there was no "making of history" about them, I resolved that
without further dallying I would turn to and capture the French
frigate, according to the original programme. So we upped anchor
with the morning tide, and set all sail for San Salvador.

Of course I had no idea where San Salvador really was. I haven't
now, for that matter. But it seemed a right-sounding sort of
name for a place that was to have a bay that was to hold a French
frigate that was to be cut out; so, as I said, we sailed for San
Salvador, and made the bay about eight bells that evening, and
saw the topmasts of the frigate over the headland that sheltered
her. And forthwith there was summoned a Council of War.

It is a very serious matter, a Council of War. We had not held
one hitherto, pirates and truck of that sort not calling for such
solemn treatment. But in an affair that might almost be
called international, it seemed well to proceed gravely and by
regular steps. So we met in my cabin--the Princess, and the
bo'sun, and a boy from the real-life lot, and a man from among
the book-men, and a fellow from No-man's-land, and myself in the
chair.