Don Rafaele was still surveying the scene, when he felt a hand, the touch of which he seemed to recognise directly, laid gently on his shoulder. With a glad smile, he turned round, and perceived Hildebrand.
“’Tis a fair scene,” remarked that person, gaily, “yet thou wouldst hardly think, from our placid appearance, that we stand on the very threshold of almost certain destruction. By my faith, ’tis nearer even than I looked for. Ho, there! aft! Hoist the Danish flag half-mast high!”
His order was obeyed on the instant; and the crew now, for the first time, observed that the flag of each ship of the armada hung in the same way. Who was dead they could not conjecture; but that it was an officer of the highest rank, if not a member of the royal family, they did not doubt, as the national flag would not be thus degraded but for some great public personage.
Notwithstanding that a general apprehension prevailed among the crew that they would shortly be overhauled by the Spanish officials, they now thought of nothing, in their conversation with each other, but the new topic for conjecture, and exhausted speculation as to which of the Dons had become defunct. Their interest in the matter was increased towards evening, when Hildebrand, who had been below all day, making up his log, appeared again on the deck, and displayed on his slouched hat the mournful memorial of a black band. As he stepped on to the quarter-deck, he was joined by Don Rafaele, who, previous to his appearance, had been pacing the poop, but had no sooner discerned him in the hatchway, than he hurried to his side.
“Urge me no further, fair Rafaele,” said Hildebrand, before Don Rafaele could speak to him. “’Twere running thee into a needless peril, and would impede me grievously.”
“’Tis because, by my aspect and port, I would be a great aid to thee, making thee pass more reasonably for a Spaniard, that I seek to attend thee,” said Don Rafaele.
“I’faith, that might be,” answered Hildebrand; “yet not even to make mine own risk less, will I bring hazard on thee.”
“I see, thou art resolved to gainsay me, Senhor,” returned Don Rafaele. “I fear me, thou beginn’st to regard me troublesome.”
“Art in earnest, Rafaele?” asked Hildebrand, taking up his hand. “Know’st thou not that certain death, without an instant’s respite, will follow our detection? Thou art resolved! Then, will I refuse thee no further. Get thee a black band, and, when the night falls, we will off.”