This came as a shock to Ben. "What made you decide that, sir?"
The Frenchman quaffed his water, slamming the glass down so hard that it cracked. "I saw ye today, Ben, standing
there with Ned. You reminded me of what I was once, a cheery lad with a trusty hound at his heels. 'Twas you spotted
Madrid's cheatin' ways. I knew then my life had to change. You're my lucky boy, you and Ned. I've been storing
wealth away. Now, with what I took from Rocco Madrid, I'm a rich man. I'll make up for my buccaneering ways, Ben,
you'll see. I'll return to Arcachon and help my family. We'll build a chateau, Ben, and buy a big vineyard. I'll give
money to the church and the poor. Folk will speak of me like ... like—"
Ben interrupted the captain. "Like a saint?"
A huge smile spread across Thuron's heavy face. "Aye lad, that's it, lad, like a saint. Saint Raphael Thuron!"
He burst out laughing, Ben joined in, and Ned set up a howl. The Frenchman wiped tears of merriment from his eyes
onto his brocaded sleeve. "And you two will share in it. Young Saint Ben and good Saint Ned. How does that sound to
ye, eh?"
Convulsed with mirth, the black Labrador chortled away. "Hohoho, good Saint Ned? I like that, I'll wear a collar of
gold, like a halo that's slipped down round my neck!"
Ben returned his thought. "And I'll wear a long, flowing shirt and a pointed hat, like a bishop. Hahahaha!"
Thuron remarked through his laughter. "Oohahaha, look at you two, anyone'd swear you were gossiping together.
Hahaha!"
Ben slapped the Frenchman's back so hard that it stung his hand. "Heeheehee, that's a good 'un, gossiping with a dog,
hee-hee!"
The proceedings were interrupted by the bosun, Pierre, bellowing from the sternmast lookout point. "Vessel astern,
showin' over the horizon in our wake!"
The captain dashed out onto the deck, with Ben and Ned hard on his heels. Crewmen with worried faces clattered up
from the mess deck, carrying weapons and priming muskets as they made their way to the stern rail. Thuron pulled a
telescope from his coat lining and sighted on the dark smudge to the rear, which was all they could see of Cartagena.
He swung the glass to and fro, halting as he caught sight of sail.
"Rocco Madrid and the Diablo Del Mar! Well, he didn't waste much time, did he? Stand by all hands, we're in for a
sea chase. Load those cannon, Anaconda, I'll take the wheel. Come on, Ben, bring Ned too—I'm going to need all the
luck ye can bring me!"
Captain Rocco Madrid called up to his lookout. "Have they sighted us yet, Pepe?"
Loud and clear, the lookout bellowed back. "Sí, Capitano, they are piling on sail to escape us!"
Rocco's bosun, Portugee, handed the wheel over to his captain. "Shall I roll out all the cannon an' give 'em a full
salute? Capitano, we can outgun the Marie easily."
Madrid narrowed his eyes until they were wicked slits. "No, no, Thuron has the gold. He is of no use to me on the
bottom of the sea with his ship. Diablo will outrun them, we'll take the Marie an' her crew alive. I want to sail into
Cartagena with everyone aboard that ship hanging from their own yardarms. Our Brotherhood on shore will know then:
No man takes gold from Rocco Madrid and lives to tell the tale!"
Rocco's first mate, a fat Hollander called Boelee, spoke up. "Even the brat an' his dog?"
The Spaniard drew out his telescope and scanned the distant ship. "Especially the brat an' his dog, amigo. Lessons must
be taught by making hard examples."
Aboard La Petite Marie, Thuron was roaring orders. "Pile on every stitch of canvas there! Up the rigging, every man
jack of ye! Pierre, Ludon, climb out onto the bows an' chop away those rope fenders. She'll cut the waves cleaner with
a sharp prow!"
Pierre, the bosun, and Ludon, the mate, scrambled over the bows with cutlasses held in their teeth.
Ben looked anxiously at the Frenchman, voicing his thoughts aloud. "Are you sure we can outrun them, Cap'n?"
Thuron smiled grimly. "We've got to, or we're all dead men. Don't worry, boy, my ship may be smaller, but she's
faster, I'm sure of it. With me at the helm, Madrid will get a run for his gold. That big, awkward tub of his was never
built for sea chases. Our Marie will show him a clean pair of heels, providing he doesn't use his cannon. 'Tis my job to
keep us out of his range until he tires of the chase, though I'm certain that Spaniard doesn't want to sink us. If Madrid
does get us within distance, he'll try to snap off our masts."
Ned was struck by an idea, which he imparted to Ben. "It'll be dark in an hour or two, so why don't we make sure the
ship isn't showing any lights to give away our position?"
Ben immediately passed on the suggestion to Thuron. The Frenchman was wholly in agreement. "A good thought, lad.
Go and cover the ports and douse any lanterns you can find. I can probably lose him in the dark. Anaconda, take the
wheel. Let's go below and study the charts, Ben. Then maybe we can be like the fox—stop running and hide!"
After dousing every available lantern and curtaining the galley ports so that the glow from the stove would not betray
their position, Ben and Ned went to the captain's cabin. Thuron had a chart spread out on the bed. He tapped the point
of a dagger against a spot on the coast. "There, Santa Marta, that's where we'll hide."
Ben studied the chart: Santa Marta was just north up the coastline from Cartagena. He turned to the Frenchman. "But
sir, that's back the way we came."
Ned put his paws on the bed and scanned the map, thinking, "So it is!"
But the captain explained his strategy. "Madrid doesn't know we're bound across the ocean to France. He thinks we're
on a sea chase, north across the Caribbean. So I'll take a sweep east and turn south just after twilight."
Ben caught on to the plan quickly. "Clever! Madrid will be searching ahead and we'll side-slip him. He'll go sailing off
into the sea while we head back to land—a good idea, sir!"
Ned sent out a sobering thought. "Pretty risky though!"
The boy was taken slightly aback when Thuron replied as if he had heard the dog, though it was pure coincidence. "
'Tis risky, I grant you. If Madrid or his crew spots us, we're done for. But I'm willing to take the chance. There's a
high, rocky point that sticks out into the waters around Santa Marta. If we can get by the Diablo unnoticed, we'll lie in
the lee of it and be well hidden."
Rocco Madrid stared into the reddening horizon, watching day fade into night. He called up to Pepe. "Have you still
got them insight, amigo?"
Pepe scrambled down, grunting with the exertion. "Only just, Capitano. I will want your seeing glass to keep track
properly. I only need a lantern or galley stove glint to tell me where La Petite Marie lies."
The Spaniard handed over his telescope. "Be careful with it."
Pepe began his laborious ascent of the mast, grumbling. "I'll miss something to eat, being stuck up there."
Rocco heard him and replied humourlessly, "You'll eat when I say. Move from that crow's nest and you'll have to eat
supper through a slit in your neck!"
Pepe reached his lookout post and swept the seas ahead through the telescope. "I see them, Capitano, their galley fire is
shining out like a beacon!"
Ben watched the wooden spar bob away on the waves to the port side of the ship. A heap of old sailcloth, soaked in
lamp oil, blazed merrily on the spar's topside. He patted Ned's head fondly. "If I was wearing a hat, I'd take it off to