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At the sound of the opening door, Roderigo whirled around. His face was pale with fear.

"He is a spy, Captain!" he cried, desperately, as Cavendish advanced toward him.

"He had a letter! I saw it!" Roderigo cried again. He dropped the knife from his hand and fell on his knees before Cavendish. "Captain," he said, imploringly.

"Be quiet," Cavendish's voice said over his head. Berkeley and Mills knew enough to keep silent; they waited until they were spoken to.

Cavendish said to de Ersola, "My apologies, sir."

He bent down himself and untied the knots of rope. There was no sight of blood on de Ersola. Roderigo hadn't yet had time to use the knife. He pulled one rope free.

"Thank you, Captain," de Ersola said, standing up. Then he was quiet, too, waiting.

"Now," said Cavendish, turning his gaze toward the two seamen. "What are your explanations? Mills?"

Mills said hopelessly, "None, sir." Then he pointed to Roderigo. "I believed him, sir," he said. "I thought you were being tricked."

Roderigo could not keep silent. "It is true! He would have betrayed us!" He was still kneeling, crouched on the floor at Cavendish's feet, and without a word Cavendish raised his heavy boot. The heel caught Roderigo in the temple, and knocked the Portuguese sideways to the floor.

"You thought I was being tricked, Mills?" Cavendish asked directly.

"Aye, sir," Mills said.

"And you, Berkeley?"

Berkeley said, "The Portuguese said there was a letter, sir. We wanted to find it."

"You did?" Cavendish asked.

Tyler had thrust his hands into his pockets and was looking very superior and pitying. Berkeley glared at him.

"You will both be punished for this," Cavendish said. He looked up and saw Moon in the doorway. Moon's eyes were round and surprised.

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"I left a guard on the chest, sir," he said at first. "I heard voices below. Señor de Ersola did go to his chest; he spent two minutes with the lid open."

'Tyler was watching Señor de Ersola," Cavendish said. "Tyler apprised me of this—" he waved his hand at the scene—"this attempt to make Señor de Ersola talk. Moon, will you summon Captain Havers, sir? And take these two men into custody. The Portugal will be confined to his quarters."

"Aye, sir," said Moon. Roderigo was sprawled on the floor, and he motioned to Mills and Berkeley to pick him up. They carried him from the cabin. Cavendish and de Ersola were alone, except for Tyler. Slowly Cavendish spoke.

"Your sword, please, sir," he said.

De Ersola pulled the weapon from its sheath.

"I had been watching you, sir," Cavendish said. "Tyler, light this overhead lamp."

"Your game, Captain," de Ersola said. He sighed.

"I didn't plan on Roderigo's interference," Cavendish said.

"I should have killed him before," de Ersola said. "But it might have made you more suspicious."

Cavendish sat down in his chair. He motioned de Ersola to the chair at the end. "Sit down," he said. "Havers will be here, in a minute. And the others. We are going to open your sea chest, sir, in full view of the gentlemen and officers who will be gathered here."

De Ersola reached in an inner pocket. He brought out a flat key. "I'll give this to Havers when he comes," he said.

"Thank you," Cavendish said.

De Ersola sat, unmoving. Havers came in, and spoke to him stiffly; the other officers appeared.

De Ersola only half heard the words that Cavendish spoke. He looked up at the silver lamp, lighted overhead. The cabin was hot; he was so used to this heat, here in the Philippinas. Manila was so close, and so familiar.

They had brought his chest in. Havers had taken the keys; he had opened the chest. For how long had that chest accompanied him? It held all his life. One by one they were laying his maps out on the floor. Havers was careful. Then, just as carefully, he laid out de Ersola's personal effects, his shirts, a red embroidered scarf, a Bible. Finally Havers had emptied the chest and de Ersola looked on calmly. Havers lifted the thin teakwood lining and

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straightened up. In his hand was a letter. He handed it to Cavendish.

The letter was heavily sealed with red wax. It was addressed to His Excellency the Governor of Manila. Cavendish broke the seal and began to read. The letter was short. De Ersola knew every word of it. Briefly, it described the Desire. It told of the capture of the Santa Anna, and of de Ersola's enforced position on the Desire. It gave the Desire's position at the island called Capul, being but one ship with small force, and said that His Excellency should use any means to surprise the English there at anchor, for the place the Desire rode was but fifty leagues from Manila. There was one last injunction.

"Let this Englishman escape," de Ersola had written, "and within a few years you must make account for your towns' and your ships' being besieged and attacked by an army of English."

Cavendish looked up from that last line. His eyes met de Ersola's. He handed the letter to Havers.

What de Ersola had written was the truth. Cavendish knew it, and he knew that had he been in the Spaniard's place, he would have done the same thing. Parole meant truce, and there could be no truce, because the war had not ended. Nor would it end for many years. But the penalty for breaking parole was death. De Ersola had gambled his life.

The officers had finished reading the letter, and Havers handed it back to Cavendish. Cavendish held it up. There were only a few brief words left to be spoken now.

"This is your letter, is it not, Señor de Ersola?"

"Yes, it is, sir," de Ersola said. "May I have it back now?"

"No," said Cavendish. "I wish to keep this evidence against you. For my report."

"I see," said de Ersola.

Cavendish said, "Then the matter is most manifest to us, now, having been made so by this trial and this proof."

"Yes, sir," said de Ersola calmly.

"Thus," said Cavendish, his voice well modulated, neither strong nor soft "it is our judgment and will that you be double ironed and confined until six o'clock tomorrow morning, and at such time that you be hanged from the larboard fore yardarm, and may God have mercy on your soul."

De Ersola pushed back his chair and stood up. Moon jumped to his feet; de Ersola went to the door, with Moon following him. At

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the door he waited for Moon and Master Fuller to fall in step with him. Then he turned again. "Adios, gentlemen," he said, bowing, and the door closed.

The letter still lay on the table in front of Cavendish. On the floor was de Ersola's sea chest, battered and scarred. Cavendish raised his eyes from the chest, and he was about to say that he hoped to God that he or any of them would have met defeat with as much courage, when he checked himself. De Ersola had no need for such a testimonial. He rose to his feet and left the cabin.

Below, de Ersola waited for him, knowing he would come. It was not very many minutes, either, that he waited; almost as soon as Moon had left him, he heard Cavendish's tread, and the door that Moon had closed and barred opened again. Light flared up.

De Ersola smiled at the sight of Cavendish. His arms were full. He was carrying tankards and ale, and under one arm was the chess set and board. He set the lamp down, throwing de Ersola's face in shadow, and de Ersola was glad because the shadows concealed the quick tears that had come to his eyes—unwarranted, he thought, angry with himself. But there were so many men who would not have had the courage to come and face him, and talk with him; this man who was his enemy was also one of the finest friends he had ever made.

Cavendish put down the chess board. Leaning down, he unlocked the irons around de Ersola's arms and legs. He moved the lamp over, and the two men, unarmed, faced each other within the small circle of light. They were both sitting.