the Uzcoques commenced a ravenous attack upon the coarse but abundant
viands set before them.

The scene was a strange one. The brutal demeanour of the men, their
bearded and savage aspect; the disheveled bloodstained women, mingling
their shrill voices with the hoarse tones of their male companions;
the disordered but often picturesque garb and various weapons of the
pirates; the whole seen by the light of the burning houses--more
resembled an orgie of demons than an assemblage of human beings; and
even the cool and resolute Proveditore felt himself shudder and turn
pale as he contemplated this carnival of horrors, celebrated by
wretches on whose hands the blood of their fellow-men was as yet
hardly dry. Antonio sat supporting himself against the table, seeming
scarcely conscious of what passed around him. Both father and son had
been compelled to take their places at the board, amidst the jeers and
insults of the Uzcoques.

The revel was at its height, when Jurissa suddenly started from his
seat, and struck the table violently with his drinking-cup.

"Hold, Uzcoques!" he exclaimed; "we have forgotten the crowning
ornament of our banquet."

He whispered something to an Uzcoque seated beside him, who left the
room. While the pirates were still asking one another the meaning of
Jurissa's words, the man returned, bearing before him a trencher
covered with a cloth, which he placed at the upper end of the table.

"Behold the last and best dish we can offer to our noble guests!" said
Jurissa; "'twill suit, I doubt not, their dainty palates." And,