Part 53 (1/2)
”Yes--to save their lives and yours. It was in an emergency. This is a different thing. I cannot do it.”
”Then you forsake me?” cried the Don angrily. ”That is neither true nor fair,” replied the skipper sternly. ”I have helped you truly and well, and run great risks in bringing you those munitions of war. With that you must be content. As for forsaking you, you know in your heart, through my help and the counsel you have received from my young companion here, you never stood in a better position for dealing a death-blow at your rival's position. Is that the truth, or is it not?”
”Ah!” cried the Don pa.s.sionately, evading the question. ”When your help means so much you give me empty words.”
”That is no answer, sir,” replied the skipper. ”Is what I have said the truth, or is it not?”
Don Ramon turned upon him furiously, his eyes flas.h.i.+ng and his hands clenched; but as he met the Englishman's stern questioning eyes he stopped short, fixed by them, as it were, and then tossing his open hands in the air with a gesture which seemed to say, There, I surrender!
his angry countenance softened, and he supported himself by taking hold of the pommel of his saddle.
”Yes,” he said wearily, ”of course it is the truth. You always were the man in whom I could trust, and I suppose you are right. Forgive me for being so exacting. But, captain, I have so much at stake.”
”Then trust to the strength of your cause, your position, and the bravery of your people. But I am not going to forsake you, Ramon,”
continued the skipper, in a graver and softer tone, ”and I will tell you this; if the day goes against you, the schooner will be lying a few hundred yards from sh.o.r.e with her boats ready to take off you and as many of your friends as you wish to bring. I will do that at any risk, but I can do no more.”
Don Ramon was silent for a few moments, before repeating the captain's last words slowly. Then, after a pause--
”It may be different,” he said, ”but if matters are as bad as that, it will be because I have fired my last shot, and Villarayo has found that another lover of his country is in his way no more. No, Captain Reed, I shall not have to put your hospitality to the test. I could not escape, and leave those who have been fighting for me to the death. There,” he added quickly, completely changing his tone, ”I do not mean to die; I mean to win. Forgive me once again. You will after your fas.h.i.+on shake hands?”
”With all my heart,” cried the skipper, stretching out both his, which were eagerly caught and raised quickly to the Spaniard's lips.
”Thank you,” he cried, ”I am a man once more. Just now I talked like a disappointed woman who could not have her way.--What does that mean?” he said sharply as there was a shout from the distance.
”People coming down the pa.s.s,” cried Fitz excitedly, and there was the report of a rifle which ran reverberating with many echoes along the rocks.
Before the sounds had ceased Don Ramon had sprung upon his mule, to turn smiling with a comprehensive wave of his hand to the trio, and then cantered off amongst the rugged stones, while they watched him till he reached the battery of field-pieces and sprang off to throw the rein to one of his men.
”That shot was the opening of the ball,” said the skipper. ”Now, my lads, back aboard the schooner, to make our arrangements, Poole, for keeping my word with the Don if he and his people have to run.”
”No!” burst out both the boys in a breath.
”No?” cried the skipper good-humouredly. ”What do you mean? This isn't going to be a show. You don't want to stop and see the fight?”
”Not want to stop and see it?” cried Fitz excitedly.
”Well, I am not fond of fighting, father,” said Poole, ”but I do. I want to see Don Ramon win.”
”Humph!” grunted the skipper. ”Well, you must be disappointed. As for you, Mr Burnett, the sooner you are out of reach of bullets the better.”
”Well,” cried Fitz, ”I like that--coming from the skipper of a trading schooner! Do you know what I am?”
”Of course,” was the answer, with a smile.
”It doesn't seem like it,” cried Fitz. ”I know I am almost a boy still--Don't laugh, Poole!” he added sharply, with a stamp of the foot--”Well, quite a boy; but young as I am, I am a naval officer, and I was never taught that it was my duty to run away if ever I came under fire.”
”It's the safest way,” said the skipper mockingly. ”'He who fights and runs away, will live to fight another day.' That's it, isn't it?”
”I suppose so,” said Fitz, getting on his stilts--”to be laughed at for a coward as long as he lives. Look here, Captain Reed, I am your prisoner, but you are not my captain, and I mean to stop and see this fight. Why, I must. I shall have to tell. Captain Glossop all about this some day, and I should look well if I owned that I had run away.-- But you don't mean it, sir. It's all nonsense to talk of being in danger up here, all this distance off. Yes, he is joking, isn't he, Poole?”