The Count took it from him, and drawing the long, bright blade from its sheath, turned to me with a bow.
"Allow me to present thee with this sword in lieu of thine own, which was unfortunately lost the night thou wert brought on board. It is of the finest steel, and, I am sure, could be in the hands of no more gallant gentleman."
I bowed in reply, as I took the sword from him.
"I thank thee," I said, "and hope that it will not be dishonored in my hands."
"I am sure it will not," he answered. "But it is time that we were on shore," and he walked forward to where the canoe lay. Together we descended the ladder and stepped into the boat.
The natives bent their muscles to the task; the paddles flew, and the canoe passed rapidly through the water to a spot which seemed suited for landing, and where a little throng of the Indians, both men and women, together with a few of the pirates, awaited us.
The canoe grated upon the beach, and treading our way through the crowd of Indians, who stood with bent heads as we passed by, we took a well-beaten path which led through the trees, and after about fifteen minutes' brisk walking turned a corner and passed into a broad, level savannah, carpeted with long luxuriant grass.
A long, low building stretched to the left, rough and unpainted; while to the right there arose a splendid mansion, many-windowed, with broad, white pillars--stately and magnificent it stood, looking like a pearl among swine.
The Count noticed the surprise depicted upon my face.
"Be not dismayed," he said. "It is but my poor home; for though shut off in some sense from the world, I yet manage to enjoy some of the good things of the flesh. The world has contributed to my comfort and the furnishings of yonder house. Italy has given us of her sculpture and painting; England, our furniture and tapestry; Spain, our wine and goblets; from Venice have come our carpets and tableware; the Netherlands have given us linen and clothing; from Portugal have come our gold and silverware. I have managed to make my brief stays here not unpleasant. Yonder is the barrack for the men," he said, pointing to the rough, unfinished building, which stood to the left.
As we came nearer to the mansion, one of the Indians, detaching himself from the group of servants on the steps, ran forward to greet his master. As he reached us, he caught DeNortier's hand and carried it to his lips, crying out a few words in the same musical language which the native who first came aboard the vessel had spoken.