De Ersola said, "If we're being honest, let me ask you something.
119
Why don't you throw in your lot with us? And taste Acapulco, and all the gold that is to be had there?"
Even as he said it, he knew it was useless. Brule was offended. He frowned; then he smiled a little.
"No," he said.
De Ersola smiled back. "You don't change course, do you? Tell me, what's the Captain going to do about his brother?"
Brule said, "He'll hang him, sir. You mark my words."
"What else can he do?" de Ersola asked. "I've no sympathy for Master David."
Brule said, "David is—I can't quite explain—but he has changed a deal since he sailed with us," he ended inadequately.
Again de Ersola felt Brule's tenderness; he changed the subject. There was no use pursuing it, and he knew Brule would report his words to Cavendish. Cavendish would not be surprised.
"Look," he said, "they're going to carve up that pig."
"I fed him myself," Brule said. "That pig, señor, sailed with me from Mazatlan." Brule grinned. "Come and have a piece of him."
The Spanish cooks were helping to carve. The two crews and the women had divided into groups around each fire. Later they would gather together to watch the fireworks, and to sit in a huge circle to watch the dancing, and to hear the music and to sing.
Havers was presiding over the carving of the pig. He was standing, laughing and talking to the men, interspersing his English with Spanish.
"The first piece goes to the Captain," Tyler said, as he started to cut huge slices from the leg. He laid them on a silver plate.
"He's coming now, sir," another sailor said, looking at Cavendish's boat as the men pulled it onto the beach.
"And a couple of chops for the Captain," Tyler continued. "He favors the chops."
Cavendish came walking up to them, with Cosmos trailing behind him.
"I take the Captain's plate," Cosmos said, and Tyler grinned at the Japanese, and handed him the silver plate.
"It smells marvelous, Tyler," Cavendish said. "Havers, you're going to join me, are you not?"
"Certainly, sir," said Havers; but he saw Cavendish was not looking at him, and that his eyes were searching the group of men and women just twenty feet away, at the next fire.
"I see Master Pretty is enjoying himself," Cavendish said.
120
"He's with Señora Catherine," Havers said, his gray eyes bland.
"She is coming this way now," Cavendish said, stepping forward.
Catherine was carrying a plate of food, and Pretty had a full cup of wine in his hand. They were talking together, busily, and they stopped when they saw Cavendish right in front of them.
"Good evening, sir," Pretty said, stopping so suddenly that the wine slopped over across his white cuff.
"Good evening, Pretty," Cavendish said. Then he abandoned Pretty and looked at Catherine.
Her face was bent a little to watch the plate of food she was carrying. An escaping curl fell over her forehead; she pushed it back with one hand.
"We're taking some food to Lola," she said. "Perhaps she can eat a little."
"Is the wine for Lola, too?" Cavendish asked. "I sent her light wine with Cosmos."
The heavy lashes that shadowed her cheeks flew up. Catherine's face was very white. She moistened her lips. "It did her good, sir," she said. "Now she is feeling a little better. Will you pardon me, Captain?"
"As you wish," he said.
Catherine brushed by Cavendish, her brocade swishing. Cosmos' voice said in his ear, "Captain, your meat will grow cold."
"Aye, and I don't have much time," Cavendish said.
Cosmos pulled out a stool, and Cavendish sat down at the rough table the Spanish had made. Other officers were coming toward the table to join him. Cosmos had put the plate down in front of Cavendish.
"You are not staying on the beaches, sir?" he asked, his singing tones breathless.
"Not for long," Cavendish said.
"Aye, aye, sir," said Cosmos.
Cavendish frowned and looked up at him. He eyed him for a minute. Then he said, "Cosmos, I warrant you are disappointed, but you needn't be; you may stay and watch the fireworks."
Cosmos smiled tentatively. "Thank you, sir," he said, still breathless, and moved away.
Cavendish stared after him a moment. Then he shrugged and applied himself to his food.
The dusk deepened. The bay turned the palest color of rose; then the color faded and the sky began to darken. Down by the
121
fire, Cosmos was trying to eat, and his stomach turned over every time he washed his pork down with a sip of wine. He went over to Tyler to ask for more wine, and got another half cup.
"What's the matter with you?" Tyler asked. "You sick?"
"No, no," said Cosmos. "I eat."
"Not much, you're not," said Tyler.
Cosmos took another chop from the big platter, and walked away with it. It was getting quite dark, and he stood on the edge of a circle of men and dug into the soft sand with his foot. He dropped the chop into the hole, and smoothed the sand back evenly. He drank the rest of his wine.
Half an hour had passed, he reckoned. He watched the scene, unsmiling, although there was much contagious merriment that ordinarily would have left him giggling too. His almond eyes were fixed on Cavendish, and finally he saw the Captain come down to the water and get into his own boat. The boat pulled away, and it was so dark that the outline of the boat disappeared very quickly. Cosmos took his wine cup back to the planks laid under the cask. Then he edged slowly away to the tents.
Once outside the firelight, he started to run. He ran past the whole line of empty tents, past Lola's, past the next one, where he slowed his pace and moved silently, for he could hear Catherine's daughter and Tina. He slipped inside Catherine's tent, and the flap closed behind him. A lamp burned.
Cosmos clasped his hands together. "It is time," he said. "Señora," he added, pleadingly.
Catherine had been sitting in her hammock. She was barefooted and ready. "Good," she said, standing up purposefully. She felt at her breast, to make sure the little knife was secure.
Cosmos was staring at Lola. "She comes, too?" he asked, fearfully.
Catherine nodded, and Cosmos started to speak.
"Sh," Lola said. She wore a heavy sash around her waist. She reached up and unfastened her earrings, laying them down on Catherine's table. "I am ready," she announced.
Cosmos said, "Oh, señora, please do not go!"
"I am señorita," Lola said. She blew out the lamp.
"No, no." Cosmos' voice came through the darkness. "I mean both of you. It is madness to go! He is aboard himself!"
Chapter XVII
The tent was inky black; cosmos could see nothing since Lola had put out the lamp. "This way then," he said. He had promised the señora; she would not listen; with reluctant fatalism he turned.
Outside he could see more. He had left a light boat as near the tents as he could. Silently he moved toward the boat, feeling, not hearing, the two women coming behind him. He moved as fast as he could; he pushed the boat out into the water and stood holding it.
"Lie down in the bottom," he whispered fearfully. There was no real need to whisper, for the men and women on the beach were noisy. He pushed the boat deeper into the water, and climbed in.
"I could help you row," Catherine said, from under his feet where she crouched.
"No, no," he said breathlessly. "The rockets. They may go off soon, and they will light the bay."
"Sangre de Dios," Catherine muttered. "I had not thought of that!" She glanced at Lola beside her, and put out her hand to touch Lola. "Are you frightened?" she asked.
"No," said Lola evenly. "Only for him. He may have only tonight."