"Very well," said Cavendish. There were only a few sentences to speak. "Then, as an officer aboard Her Majesty's ship Desire, you are well aware that it is customary to offer any man under a charge such as yours, two choices of punishment. The first is death by the sword." Cavendish paused. He looked directly into his brother's eves. "The second is abandonment. We should set you ashore, without a weapon, without accoutrements of any kind except the clothes you wear."
Memory flashed back through David. A year and a half ago he
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had first set foot on the Desire's deck. Without accoutrements of any kind. Now he would go forth again, this time alone. "I shall take the latter course, sir."
"You are fully aware of the dangers of such a course?" Cavendish spoke earnestly, directly to David. "It is my duty to warn you. This is an unusual situation, for, should you choose abandonment, you will automatically become a prisoner of the Spanish. You bear the name of Cavendish. It is quite unthinkable that the Spanish authorities will allow you freedom." His words were an understatement. He decided to amplify them. "It is a choice few men would wish to take," he said. "Nuno da Silva, even though he was a Portugal and a prisoner aboard the Golden Hind—even then, after Drake released him, he was taken by the Spanish and returned to the Inquisition for questioning."
David spoke steadily. "I shall take the latter course, Captain," he repeated.
"Very good," Cavendish said. "And," said David, "one question, if you please." Cavendish nodded.
"If I should be able to accomplish it, if I should return some day to England, would I then still face the charge of mutiny, to which I have already pleaded guilty?" As he said it, he realized that only a few days ago he would have been afraid to confess aloud an almost foolish hope. Now he wasn't afraid; and strangely enough, no one smiled. He felt a flashing sort of triumph that he wasn't afraid to say openly what he had been thinking and planning. "There's no precedent," said Cavendish. "No one has returned." David looked from his brother to Havers. "I want to say goodbye to you, sir," he said, "and to thank you."
Havers stood up; he held out his hand. "Good-bye, David," he said, simply.
Cavendish's voice cut in. "Captain Havers is expert on naval and civil law. I should like to know what Captain Havers thinks of your question."
Havers turned to face Cavendish. "It is my opinion," he said slowly, "that Master Cavendish is freed of the charges as soon as he steps from the Desire. The law looks upon abandonment as death." David said, "Thank you, sir."
"Then," said Cavendish, "you shall be set ashore, on this beach of San Lucas this afternoon, just before we weigh anchor." He stood up, and walked over to David.
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The two men stood apart from the others. ''Good-bye," he said. "Good-bye," David said.
Their hands gripped hard. Cavendish said, low, "I leave Catherine with you." "Aye, sir!" David turned, and in the silence after his going, Cavendish swung 8rnun.*l iUUiaUi
"I'll need all of you, within a few minutes. We have business aboard the Santa Anna." Then he spoke directly to Moon. "And, Master Moon, if anything should go wrong with the job you are to do, and with the prisoner I expect you to bring back aboard—if anything should happen and that prisoner escape—I'll have you in irons, Moon."
Chapter XX
At exactly ten o'clock two boats pulled from the Desire to the Santa Anna. The wind was strong today from the north northwest; it flung spray from the choppy waves into the faces of the oarsmen.
"A good wind for our job," Cavendish said to Havers, as he clambered aboard the Santa Anna.
Captain Flores received him on deck. His face was remote, grave. His eyes seemed to look beyond the faces of the English. He bowed a little. Over his head, the colors of Aragon and Castile flew defiantly, for the last time.
Cavendish said, "Today our truce is ended, Captain."
"Si, señor," said Flores, looking rather surprised at the number of English who tumbled onto his deck.
Cavendish glanced around to see Moon with ten men, all of whom carried loaded muskets. He almost smiled. Moon was taking no chances on those irons.
"I believe, Captain Flores," Cavendish continued, that you have removed, according to my instructions, all usable weapons, victuals, wine, and so forth, that will be helpful to you during your coming sojourn on San Lucas."
"We have," Flores said stiffly, his eyes full of remoteness.
Moon edged sideways, coming to stand by a Spanish officer; Tyler moved over behind Moon, the loaded weapon in his hand. Tyler was the best shot aboard the Desire.
Cavendish said, "Then, sir, it is my order now that you abandon ship. We have not too much time. Nor do we have powder to spare. I want to thank you for your co-operation. I want to congratulate you on the gallantry of your crew, and your women."
Flores said, "Our truce being ended, I see no reason, Captain Cavendish, that I should answer you with polite words. Your action of sinking the Santa Anna may mean death for our people. It shall
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certainly mean it for me, when I return to Spain, if God should ever will it. I have failed in my duty, and I shall never forgive myself. It is asking too much of mortal man—and my God will understand that it is, then, not possible for me to forgive you. I hope that some day we shall have the pleasure of taking you prisoner, to meet your just deserts."
Cavendish said, "I hope not. I regret, too. But I have two more requests. The first being the Portugal Enrique Roderigo."
Roderigo stepped forward.
Cavendish said, "You have asked me, sir, personally, if you might sail with us. The request was granted. We are happy to welcome you aboard the Desire for our return voyage to England."
Flores glanced at Roderigo with hatred. But Roderigo smiled and bowed, and then, briefly, Cavendish wondered at the wisdom of taking Roderigo with him. But it was done.
"Thank you, Captain," Roderigo said.
Flores was silent, so Cavendish went on. "My second request is that your pilot, Señor de Ersola, also accompany the Desire on her voyage across the Pacific."
At the words, Tyler lifted the loaded musket. De Ersola did not move; he stood still, and then finally he stepped forward to face Cavendish.
"I shall not consent, sir," he said, his breath coming quickly.
Moon stiffened. His hand dropped to his sword. De Ersola glanced around; he saw Tyler, he saw Moon's face. He understood. Should he make a dash for freedom, and plunge over the bulwarks, he would be shot down like an animal. He said, calmly, "Why are you doing this, Captain Cavendish?"
Cavendish's face was inscrutable, since he was lying. "I need a pilot," he said. "You are an uncommonly good one."
"And you are also aware, quite, sir, that you cannot look to me for help. I shall not be ready to help."
Cavendish said, "You may change your mind, sir." His eyes were mocking.
De Ersola hunted vainly in his mind for the real reason for this action. Flores spoke up.
"This is kidnapping!" he said. "Certainly you are aware of that!"
"I'm quite aware of it," Cavendish said.
De Ersola stared at Cavendish in surprise. He said, "Think you, Captain Cavendish, that under any circumstances, I would help you navigate through the Philippinas?"
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Cavendish smiled. "Circumstances?" he asked. "I can arrange circumstances so that you will beg to offer your assistance."
Flores' eyes burned; he cried, "I'll not allow to to seize this officer!"
"You have little choice," Cavendish said. "Moon, take this man into custody. Confine him. We'll allow him to have his sea chest. He might want it later . . . and we can use his maps."