"Are you? Certainly you expected me to find it."
"No," she said, and pride helped her face him. "I have only enough to pay for passage to Spain. I had no recourse but to hide it."
But she had not concealed entirely the hurt he had caused. In her bare feet, she looked small and defenseless as she stood before him.
"You have paint on your blouse," he said.
"I know. I use it to work in. And the skirt."
"Señora, if you have need, certainly you know I will help!"
She struck back now, eagerly. "Señor de Ersola will help," she said, "but I want none! May I have my knife?"
"Aye," he said angrily.
She took it from him, carefully avoiding his fingers.
He surveyed her for a moment. She was withholding from him what he wanted. He thought of the black-haired Arabella; he turned to go. Then he saw a portrait that was leaning against the canvas of the tent. He inclined his head in the direction of the portrait.
"Who is that?" he asked.
"The son of the Alcalde of Manila," she answered. "In command of the soldiers there."
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Cavendish turned for a look at the portrait, at the strong face, the lips upturned and ready to break into laughter. "A friend of yours, señora?"
"Yes," said Catherine. He was jealous—she knew it. Her eyes were bright. "An interesting and masculine face, is it not?" she asked.
"Very," he said.
"And once again, Captain, I shall have to remind you that you cannot stay here longer." She picked up the portrait and put it in a box, while he watched her. He shifted from one foot to the other.
"Come watch us build a bark," he said gruffly, to her back.
"Where?" she asked, closing the lid of the box, and turning.
"On the beach." He didn't move.
"I shall, then, Captain. Later."
"Later?"
"When I finish. You must go now."
"It's important that you do not stay in your tent and mope."
Catherine started to contradict that statement, but he went right on.
"I want you to mingle, and the other women to come out and make friends with us."
"Oh, you do?" she asked, angrily. "You do, do you?"
"Aye. And one more word, señora. Do not walk back into the forests. Stay on the beaches. You will be safe on the beaches."
"Safe?"
"Aye. You would probably be unmolested, in any case, because they know that I—" he broke off; his quick grin was guilty. He could not leave, yet. He put his hand on her head, fastening his fingers in the red-gold curls. "Stay on the beaches, wench," he said. "Good-bye."
Chapter IX
The sun was hot on David's head, the sweat rolled down his face and gleamed on his bare back and chest. His boots sank into the sand, as he braced himself to hoist the heavy plank.
"Heave her up, lads!"
The two men working with him heaved hard. The plank rose to their shoulders, and they carried it from the boat thirty feet up the beach. They laid it down and David straightened gratefully. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with a dirty hand.
"One more," he said, "and we'll be done."
He walked down to the ship's boat that they were unloading. He had forgotten this morning's brief quarrel with Tom. Tom stood near, with Havers and de Ersola; Tom was directing and watching the building of a crude cradle in which soon the keel of the bark he was building would be laid. That keel, taken from the Santa Anna, had been a damnably heavy piece of timber.
"Lanang wood," David heard de Ersola say as he went past the three men. "Lanang wood from the Philippinas."
The air rang with the sound of hammers and the steady sound of the saws. The air was full of voices, curses and laughter. For a minute David stood at the water's edge.
It was nearing midday. The water of the river sparkled in the sunlight; a boatload of men was fishing there, and their voices echoed over the water. The whole colony was busy. Over the firepits great pots had been slung, and the smell of stewing hares tickled David's nostrils. Here, where he worked, the tides had sucked out a small basin; farther up the beach was a fat tongue of sand that stretched into the bay; this was used as the colony's dock, and ship boats were drawn up there neatly. There, too, the Spanish were building a long table and benches for their officers and highborn women to eat from. And a hundred feet from where David stood, began the row of tents for the women. Already they had come out of the tents to watch the men.
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David laid hold of the last plank. It was good to work. He heard Cavendish's voice; he felt Cavendish's eyes on him as he went past one end of the plank on his shoulder. Satisfaction filled David. It was good to work and make things, under Tom's direction. Pride and accomplishment followed such labors, from the mending of a sail to the careening of a ship.
It was marvelous what men could do. It never failed to fill David with wonder, what these men could achieve. Set them down anywhere, and with their simple tools they could do anything. To be a part of it was deeply rewarding.
"That's all then," David said. He walked over to Cavendish; he was looking for the shirt and jacket which he had carelessly flung down on the sand. He didn't see them, and he came up to Cavendish and Havers.
Cavendish held out the shirt and jacket.
"Thanks, Tom," David said. He looked over his shoulder at the figures of some women who had gradually come closer, drawn by the activities of the men. "I can't have a swim now," he said, grinning. He slipped the shirt over his head.
"Too bad, boy," Cavendish said.
"Christ, those planks were heavy," David said. Absently, he started to pick at his palm, where a ragged splinter had dug deep into the flesh. His hands were dirty with pitch.
"Here," said Cavendish.
David held out his hand obediently. Cavendish had a slender dagger. He slit the skin quickly, lifting the splinter out.
"Wash it," he said, "in the sea."
David laughed. "Tom thinks the sea cures everything," he said to de Ersola.
"Wash it," Cavendish repeated.
"Aye, sir," said David. He felt very happy. He washed his hands carefully, opening the slitted skin to get the dirt out. Tom had been deft; David's hands were deft now, too. Sometimes he remembered his first nights at sea, when he had practiced tying knots. He had worked so hard that he had dreamed of knots—shroud knots, running knots, timber hitches.
"So you are building a bark," de Ersola was saying as David came back. "For the Pacific?"
"Possibly," came Cavendish's easy voice.
David was pleasantly tired and hungry. The sun felt good. The women's clothes were gay; their laughter came to his ears. Havers'
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chuckle sounded, and the murmur of Cavendish's voice. David yawned. Out in the bay the three ships rode at anchor, like guardians of the colony ashore.
"Cortes tried a colony here some years ago," de Ersola was saying. "It failed miserably."
"Aye, the soil's poor," Havers said.
"Thin," said de Ersola. "Back in the pines are the remains of two houses. We're rebuilding them to store goods and food."
"I think I'll walk back and see them," said Cavendish. "D'ye want to come, David?"
David, in the middle of another yawn, nodded. He had expected de Ersola to come too, but the Spaniard did not move. His dark eyes were on the shape of the Santa Anna. David walked along at Cavendish's side.
There should be no more trouble between them, now. He felt sorry he had talked at all to Catherine the night before. She might have thought he was condemning Tom, when he had meant only to show her the resentment he found in himself. He still didn't know why he had told her about it, except that he had felt instantly free to talk.
This morning he had known Tom's eyes had been on him with pride and affection, when he had shed his jacket and shirt to help his crew move the planks. He knew that he wasn't a court versifier any longer, but an officer aboard Her Majesty's ship Desire. He was a good officer. He was rich, in his own right. Not as rich as Tom, certainly—for Tom, David was sure, would be the richest man in England when the Desire fetched Plymouth again. And David knew, too, that what he had written aboard the Desire was good. The description of the twenty-two days they had spent in the navigation of the Straits of Magellan was good writing. No one had seen it, but he carried the knowledge of it within him.