Of the gallant resistance of the Dane they could see nothing; they could only surmise what had taken place. They witnessed, however, the seizure of the Svend, the indiscriminate orgy of looting and the first phases of her destruction. Of her final disappearance they saw nothing, as the schooner bore slightly on the Paloma's port quarter when she sank.
Throughout the whole business, Mr. Heatherington was in the deep sleep of utter exhaustion, and the lads wisely forbore to awaken him.
"What do you think the blighters are going to do to us?" inquired Peter.
Kenneth shook his head.
"I hardly know," he replied. "As a matter of fact I don't think they'll go to extreme measures."
"They went quite far enough when that brute Mendoza threatened to start on me as sharks' meat," declared Peter with a shudder.
"But he didn't," added Kenneth. "I suppose he could have had us all thrown into the ditch if he wanted to. It was sheer bluff."
"'Tany rate he won't get much change out of us," said his chum resolutely. "For one thing I don't know where the spot is where the black pearl oysters are, and I don't suppose you do."
"I don't," agreed Kenneth. "What's more, I don't want to know while I'm in this galley. If we can put a spoke in old Mendoza's wheel we will."
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. At regular intervals one of the mutineers appeared with meals for the three captives; but it was evident that the Spaniards took no chances with their prisoners, for a couple of armed seamen were always posted just outside the cabin.
On the following morning the steward appeared looking very scared.
"Are you a doctor, señor?" he inquired in quaint English, addressing Mr. Heatherington.
"No—why?" rejoined Kenneth's father.
"Because, señor, there is sickness on board. One of the firemen, José Nundico, is very ill with smallpox. Señor, I tremble for myself."
"And what does Mendoza think?"
"Señor, he is in a terrible fright. We have medicines on board, but no one knows how to deal with the case. Capitán Mendoza has given orders for José Nundico to be isolated. Someone must attend upon him. May the saints forfend that I should be one chosen for that office."
"If you are, I hope you won't bring us our meals," said Mr. Heatherington bluntly.
The steward, looking very white, went out.
"This may prove to be a blessing in disguise, lads," remarked Mr. Heatherington. "I don't suppose any of the Spaniards have ever been vaccinated. With ordinary care we should be immune even if the disease runs through the ship. I don't like to be vindictive, but there are limits to one's benevolence towards people of Mendoza's type."
Just before noon Mr. Heatherington and the two lads were brought on deck, each with his arms secured at the wrists behind his back. Captain Gregory had also been taken from his place of detention. He was still very weak, and owing to the uselessness of his arm no attempt had been made to bind his hands.
Most of the crew were present, together with Mendoza and Lopez. Miguel Fe was on duty on the bridge. Apparently Mendoza was about to give his men a little amusement at his captives' expense.
Presently the mutineer captain gave an order, and four men appeared hauling at and pushing the gigantic form of the Danish skipper of the Svend. He was fettered at the wrists, and in addition a stout chain was fastened round both ankles with sufficient play to enable him to take short steps.
The Dane looked curiously at his fellow prisoners.
"You are English, I take it," he remarked in a low tone. "I suppose you cannot speak Danish?"
Mr. Heatherington shook his head.
"I have a slight knowledge of German," he replied, adding in that tongue. "My son has told me of how your craft was seized by these rogues. What is your name, might I ask?"
"Asger Holbaek," announced the Dane, and was about to supplement the statement when Pedro Mendoza interposed angrily:
"No talking. This is not an occasion for plotting. You are here for a purpose."
"Precisely," agreed Mr. Heatherington. "You brought us here, I take it, to give us the information that smallpox has broken out on board, and to ask my advice as to its treatment. I fancy you are rather late in the day——"
"It is yet morning," interrupted Mendoza.
"Figure of speech," rejoined Mr. Heatherington coolly. "What I meant to imply is that you ought to have taken precautions earlier. Anyone with experience in such matters can see that nine-tenths of the crew, including yourself, are in the preliminary stages of the disease."
The mutineer captain's face paled to a ghastly grey. He positively shook. Kenneth's father, realizing that he was able to apply pressure upon the moral thumb-screws, did so.
"You'll all have it badly," he continued. "I might be able to give good advice, but at my price."
"And what is that?"
"Liberty——"
Pedro Mendoza made an angry gesture.
"No, no!" he interrupted. "Until you reveal the secret——"
"Which will be of no use to a dead man," rejoined Mr. Heatherington significantly. "But you did not wait to hear my terms. I demand liberty of action and speech while on board the vessel, the same to apply to Captain Holbaek, Captain Gregory, and these two lads."
The Spaniard glanced at the gigantic Dane.
"He is too big; he is dangerous," he objected.
"I am," agreed Asger Holbaek grimly. "I give no promise. Make what terms you like with this villain," he added, speaking to Mr. Heatherington in German. "It will be just as well but do not include me in the bargain. I mean it. You have those two boys to consider."
Mendoza signed to some of the hands to remove the Danish captain.
"I agree," he said, addressing the other captors. "You will not be molested. You must, however, be locked in a cabin at night. Now, what precautions ought we to take?"
"Well, lads, we've gained a respite," observed Mr. Heatherington after the interview, and the three were alone in one of the state-rooms. "I played on his fears. He's in a mortal funk about the outbreak of smallpox."
"But has he taken it?" asked Peter.
"Not to my knowledge," replied Mr. Heatherington. "It was pure bluff on my part. As likely as not he'll have it. He's that type of person who would develop an illness simply through thinking about it. At any rate, he'll be a bit civil until he thinks the danger's past."
"I'm sorry we couldn't work it with Captain Holbaek," said Kenneth. "He's a proper white man."
"I fancy he's got something up his sleeve," observed Mr. Heatherington. "They'll probably treat him better in order to keep in with us."
During the next few days the captives had things much their own way. Whenever they wished, they went on deck. The few simple precautions that Mr. Heatherington had advised were scrupulously carried out by the crew, with the result that no fresh case appeared. Mendoza, finding that the prospect of a devastating epidemic was averted, began to pluck, up courage and to think out a plan to wrest the secret from his prisoners.
In the small hours of the morning, Kenneth was awakened by a decided alteration in the revolutions of the propeller. For days and nights past the Paloma had maintained easy steaming with practically unvarying speed. Kenneth was in the habit of sleeping soundly, and was thoroughly accustomed to the monotonous pulsations of the engines. The unusual variation had the effect of rousing him instantly.
Instinctively his eyes sought the tell-tale compass on the ceiling. The course was now nor'-west by north, or nine points different from the course hitherto held by the Paloma since leaving the Bay of Panama.