She looked past the remnants of the fire; she saw Sebastian's head, pillowed on his arms, and she recognized Juan's stocky figure, about twenty feet from her.
"Sebastian," she whispered. "Sebastian."
Sebastian was wide awake immediately. He sat, facing her across the smouldering logs.
"My lord is gone," she whispered.
Sebastian jumped to his feet, feeling for the weapon at his side. "Gomez," he said. He stood looking down at the water.
The little bark rode at anchor just as they had left her. She was very plain in the moonlight. Sebastian glanced at the moon. "It's about three o'clock," he said. Then Lola said, "Sebastian, there is the Santa Anna."
He had seen it at the same time she had. He thought rapidly. "She has been visible about an hour," he said. He listened. There was no sound in the night.
Lola had run down to the water's edge. The little bay curved, and at the tide line she could see around that curve. She stood there, and then she said, "Oh, Sebastian, which way?"
"Toward the town, of course," he said, "but not you, señorita. It is better not. I shall go."
David made no noise. The sand slipped away under his booted feet. He ran easily, noiselessly, slipping from tree to tree, watching his quarry, who strode ahead of him on the narrow curving beach.
In the shadow of the trees David slowed his pace. He would need his breath. In a few minutes he and Gomez would meet, on that
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lonely moon-washed beach. David felt at his belt for the long dagger, then he dropped his hand, and came out of the shadow.
"Gomez," he said softly.
Gomez stood still; he was too surprised to draw the rapier at his side. David took that time to cross the beach to him.
"I've been following you for some time," David said. "You are going to Navidad."
Gomez snarled, "And if I am?" His surly face was angry, his eyes puckered by a scowl.
"You saw the Santa Anna," David went on, in the same low voice. "You thought it was time to betray me. In Navidad."
Gomez was unafraid. He had a sword; the Englishman had none. He said, "You'll be caught sometime, señor. Why not let me claim the gold?" But he found words none too easy at any time with his superiors. He reached for his rapier, to end the talking.
His right arm went over to his side; at the same instant David leaped forward. Gomez found his right wrist pinioned just long enough for David's left hand to draw the murderous dagger.
"No!" he screamed, the sound shattering the stillness.
He was killed instantly. He lay on the sand under David's feet, and David knelt down beside him to unfasten his belt, and to claim the rapier which was still only partly unsheathed. Under his shirt, David found his papers and the money bag he was looking for; he wiped the smeared blood from them on Gomez' shirt. He stood up to see Sebastian running toward him.
"I have killed him," David said. "He would have betrayed me."
"Si, si, señor," Sebastian said. "That is good! You are sure he is dead?" He looked down at the sprawled figure.
"Perfectly sure," David said. "Here, help me carry him to the water. The tide's ebbing."
Sebastian bent down to take Gomez' ankles. David took his shoulders, and they waded out into two feet of water.
"This will do," David said. "I don't want to get too wet."
They dropped their burden. Sebastian leaned down to rinse off his hands. "We saw the Santa Anna too," he said.
They started back up the lonely beach. The clumsy shape of the Santa Anna, as she wallowed slowly in the offshore swells, was plain to see. Lola had put more logs on the fire, and it burned brightly in the distance.
"The señorita wakened me," Sebastian said.
"Did she?" asked David. "Look, Sebastian, I reckoned the Santa
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Anna will fetch Navidad tomorrow at afternoon, or thereabouts. We will put into the harbor after dark."
Sebastian frowned. "There'll be no moon till late."
"I want no moonlight," said David. "I accompanied my brother on just such a trip, after dark, in a small pinnace."
Si, señor," Sebastian said, with relief. They were back at the fire.
Lola stood up to greet them. She had known it was David, from afar, and the trembling in her knees had gone, by now.
"You're safe," she whispered.
He pulled her down beside him, and Sebastian sat too, cross-legged. The flames illumined their faces, the two men's, bearded, and Lola's, still white under her tan. Juan was awake; he edged closer to hear.
"I have Gomez' papers, Lola," David said. "From now on, that is my name."
She did not ask what had happened to Gomez. David stretched out flat.
"We might as well get some sleep," he said. "There's nothing to do. We cannot sail until this afternoon."
"We go to Navidad then?" Lola asked, moving over, so he could put his head in her lap. She stroked his head with her slender fingers.
"Aye," he said. "I'm going to try to see Catherine. I'm afraid for her, Lola."
The harbor of Navidad was dark when the bark, on a larboard tack, stole close along her shore. At the tiller, David sat silent. It was not Tom who stood before the mast; it was Lola, the wind blowing her long hair. Suddenly she turned, and came toward him on her bare feet. She sat next to him, saying nothing, holding his arm tight, looking ahead. Finally he said, "I did not expect this."
"I know," she whispered. "You will not dare the town, David?"
In the darkness he smiled ruefully. "No, señorita."
Sebastian's figure detached itself from the darkness fore. He knelt down at David's feet, to be closer to his ear. His whisper was fearful. "There are five of them, señor," he said. "That is the flagship Maria, and four escort vessels."
David looked out over the harbor. Each vessel bore a light in her stern; aboard the flagship there were more lights burning in her cabins; the paint on her stern galleries gleamed red.
"That will be Captain da Gossa, señor." Sebastian went on.
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"A good seaman?" David asked.
"Very good, señor," Sebastian murmured regretfully. "He will have sailed from Lima and he was probably searching for Captain Cavendish."
"We are near enough shore now," David said.
"Si, señor," Sebastian answered, rising to his feet.
They towed behind a small ship's boat. Sebastian pulled her alongside, and stepped in; David loosed the painter, and Sebastian dipped his oars.
"Hasta la vista," he said softly.
The bark sailed on, slowly, then came about and drifted idly. "It will be four hours before the moon is up," David said. The ropes creaked as Juan furled the sail; the anchor splashed overboard.
"We shall wait," David said.
It was two hours before Sebastian returned. Silently he climbed aboard, and again he knelt at David's feet to speak with him, while Juan hauled up the anchor and the bark got under way slowly.
"I saw no man from the Santa Anna, señor," Sebastian said first.
"And no one there saw me."
"Good," said David, thankfully. He hardly wanted it known that Sebastian had been in Navidad that night. "They will think us far from here, then."
"Si" said Sebastian. "There is a warrant out for your arrest. There is bad news."
"What news?" asked David levelly.
"Captain Flores is in custody for dereliction of duty. For the loss of the Santa Anna and for your escape. They shall take him back to Acapulco for trial. And the Señora Catherine—Captain da Gossa has taken her aboard the flagship."
David said nothing. Over the water the lights of the flagship shone; aboard her was Catherine. David said slowly, "Her crew is ashore?"
"Si, señor. They have been six weeks at sea, searching for Captain Cavendish. They must stay here for a few days. They sail on to Acapulco, to land the Santa Anna's passengers. Then the fleet returns to Lima."