"It was," said Havers, concealing his anger.
Cavendish frowned.
"You are about the poorest man for a husband I can think of. The only consolation is that she wanted it this way. What a fever she put you in, Captain."
"Fever?"
"I don't know what else to call it," Havers said. "You were mad for her, Tom. Why not admit it?"
"I have admitted it!"
Havers smiled.
"I swallowed the hook. Deep, I told you," Cavendish ended.
"I know you did," said Havers. His gray eyes looked at Cavendish. "There's still the voyage, Tom, and that reminds me. The Portugal Roderigo wants to see you."
"Now?" Cavendish asked. "Tell him I'll see him when I'm ready. I'm not fond of him, Havers."
"He says it's important."
"Important? Tell him I'm the judge of what's important." Cavendish crossed his legs and leaned back. "I'll see him when I'm ready."
Chapter XXV
The dawn had not yet come to California; the January day was not yet born. The stars were still bright, the night dark, but no light burned aboard the bulky Santa Anna, with her improvised masts and her dirty patched sails. Only in one tent did a light burn, and David sat on the bare ground beside it, hiding its light, so that a great shadow was thrown up on the tent walls by his seated figure. His hands were clasped over his legs.
"I could not tell you before," he said. "I did not want you to know."
"I am glad you didn't," said Lola.
"We shouldn't burn this lamp!"
"But I cannot talk to you without seeing you, your eyes, for what you say to me is so often in your face, and not on your lips!"
"That isn't true," he said, shortly.
"Only in that—" she hesitated. " 'Tis true! I know now you want to take me; I didn't before! In the dark."
He rubbed at his bearded cheek. He frowned, his scowl deep. She didn't interrupt his thoughts. She knew he would speak them aloud in a minute. He did.
"Flores could not protect me, once we should land at Acapulco. Flores is part fool, Lola. He's too kind for command. He is likely to lose his head because of the wreck out there—" He gestured toward the water and the once proud Santa Anna. "From now on, Lola, I shall be a fugitive, and trust to myself. It will be safer."
"I would be so little trouble," she said.
For the first time in their talk together, he smiled.
"I am learning my English so well, now. Why should you teach me English and leave me?"
He threw his hands up helplessly, and began to laugh.
"I go with you," said Lola.
She did not smile. She looked extremely sober. Then she rose to her feet and began hastily to fill a canvas bag.
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"Hurry," said David, glancing at the lamp beside him. "Don't let me forget this lamp. We need it."
"Si," said Lola.
David watched her as she opened her one wooden chest and lifted out her sewing box. She put that into the bag, filled it with her clothes, and methodically began to fill the wooden bucket with the tin basins, the pan, the two spoons.
"Don't make a noise," David murmured, and then they both heard Sebastian's voice.
"Señor," Sebastian whispered.
David jumped to his feet and moved noiselessly to the tent flap. He opened it, and Sebastian slipped inside.
"We are ready, señor," he said.
"So are we," Lola returned, raising her eyes to Sebastian's face.
Sebastian looked at her, and then at David. David nodded.
"I cook," Lola whispered. "I sew."
Sebastian pulled down the corners of his mouth. "I cook," he said. "I sew."
Without a word Lola handed him the bucket, with the few household utensils inside. There was a little silence. Then Lola said. "I cook and sew better."
David grinned. "She comes," he said.
David put out the lamp. Lola carried the bag, and Sebastian the bucket. At the water's edge was a small crudely built boat; it had one seat. Lola crouched in the bow.
The little boat pulled away from shore soundlessly. The oars dipped. No one spoke, and when they reached the bark anchored so near shore, Lola stood up and grasped the ladder.
Sebastian held the boat steady. David climbed aboard, and pulled Lola up after him. Sebastian handed up the few belongings; the little boat bobbed, empty, alongside the bark as the three of them crossed the small deck and entered the only cabin.
Two men awaited them.
David set down the lamp. Sebastian put the bucket down and straightened up; between them stood Lola, carrying the canvas bag.
"She comes," David said.
A man named Juan nodded, smiling a little. The other man spoke.
"It is folly," he said.
David pulled out a leather pouch and tossed it to him. "Count it,
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Gomez," he said. "Fifty pieces of gold for your help tonight. What we agreed on."
Gomez felt the pouch with his fingers; he did not open it. His eyes fell from David's. "I count it later," he said. "But I am not sure. About—"
"What?" asked David. "What aren't you sure about?"
"We risk our lives to take you tonight. For this." He squeezed the bag in his hands.
"Whoreson coward," said Sebastian. "Your life is not worth a peso to anybody."
Gomez was the only man among the four of them who wore a sword. He put his hand on the sword hilt. "I go with you tonight," he said. "As we agreed."
"Good," said David. He motioned to Sebastian, and the two of them left the small cabin. Out on deck the stars still shone brightly.
"I'm going ashore," David whispered. "I'll be only thirty minutes. Watch Gomez."
Sebastian said, "A knife in his back, señor?"
David shook his head. He stepped down into the small boat. "No," he said. "Not yet."
It was only four minutes before he beached the boat. The whole camp was dark and still. He entered Catherine's tent.
Catherine was awake. She stood as he entered, but he took her arm and led her back to the hammock. She sat down in it and he knelt; their faces were level.
"It is time, then?" she whispered.
He put out his hands to take hers.
"Aye," he said. "Lola is going with me."
Catherine held back a little sigh. David squeezed her hands tighter.
"I leave you alone!"
"You can do nothing else," she said. "Nothing else. I have Kate and Tina."
"I know." He began to speak rapidly. "Gomez didn't want to be persuaded. He said he did not want to betray Flores' trust in him. But he took the gold, as we agreed. We are ready to sail. We'll watch him carefully. It is very easy, Catherine. There is no way of catching us. We shall cross the Gulf of California, and hug the coast; there are small islands too. I know them. Tom put in to a number of them. For his charts."
Catherine said, "Then where—"
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"In Navidad," he said. "You will sail tomorrow, and I shall watch for you. The Santa Anna will be very slow."
She said, "But it won't be safe for you in Navidad!"
"No, but I shall see you there. Now, did you destroy the marriage papers?"
It was a while before she answered, and in the darkness he scanned her face anxiously.
"I hid them," she said. "They are safe."
"Safe? Catherine—I've warned you!"
"I shall destroy them, if it becomes dangerous."
"They are already dangerous," he said, more quietly. He rose to his feet; there was little time. "I shall see you in Navidad; it may be six weeks."