Captain from Castile (31 page)

He lay outstretched on the sand, stiff, worn, and clammy with sweat, and took stock of tomorrow. Now he would not only be unable to restore the jewels; but in addition he had broken one of the General's sternest laws by deserting the camp without permission. There was no possible escape for him. Even if he had been willing to crown his disgrace by flight, \vhere could he And refuge in this savage country'? The only thing left now was to face the inevitable by presenting himself at the fort.

Burned out and defeated, he got up at last and followed the beach where the sand was firmer. All he wanted was to find a place to sleep in after the grueling walk from Cempoala. In this state of mind, he barked his shins and almost fell over an object on the sand which he had been too listless to notice, an Indian fisherman's canoe drawn up beyond the reach of the waves. AVith a vague oath, he was about to pass on when he came to a dead stop. His mind, which had been half asleep, quickened, and he looked eagerly over the small craft. It was a log which had been hollowed out by fire. The leaf-shaped paddle lay in the bottom. Here after all was a way of reaching the Gallega.

In his excitement, Pedro did not stop to reckon difficulties: that he had never paddled a canoe before and had no idea how to manage it; that if he upset, he was almost certainly done for; that if he reached

the ship and got on board, he would be alone with a dozen men who would have no compunction about cutting his throat; that if he were hard-pressed and had to drop from the ship back into the canoe, he would surely capsize. If any of this occurred to him as he dragged the hollow log to the water, one sufficient answer presented itself: that he had nothing to lose whatever happened, and that a chance for life and for retrieving himself was better than no chance at all.

It cost him several wettings before he managed to slide into the canoe and begin a teetering progress toward the ship. He had frequently watched the Indians and now tried to imitate them by crouching low and balancing as much as possible. But the canoe, designed for two or three men, rode higb and tipped distressingly at every higher ripple of the quiet bay. Foot by foot, he crept on, like a man walking a plank over some chasm, aware of the growing distance from the shore, conscious of his own helpless smallness on the expanse of water.

But little by little, the ship came nearer, her stern light showing more brightly as the moon sank beyond the inland sierras. Though only a small caravel, she bulked huge above him when at last Pedro crept into her shadow and felt his way around to her anchor rope.

This was a ticklish point, as the tide eddied about the poop and set the canoe teetering more desperately than ever. Pedro landed with a bump against the small boat which had been moored to the stern, lost his balance, and found himself under the water. He came up sputtering. The overturned canoe was out of reach; but he grasped the side of the ship's boat.

"Who's there?" came a grunt from the Gallega's deck.

De Vargas lowered himself as far as possible and waited, torn between fear of discovery by the man above and of sharks below. After a tense moment, the sailor could be heard padding off along the after deck. Pedro clambered over the side of the small boat.

Here he allowed the water to drain off him. Then, removing his shoes and belting his sword closer to his body, he pulled himself hand over hand up the anchor rope, got a grip on the deck, and worked himself upward, fingers, knees and toes, to the rail. A glance above-it showed that the deck was empty. A moment later he had climbed on board.

A murmur of voices sounded not far off; someone laughed. The sound came up the companionway from the captain's cabin. Inching downward, Pedro at length had a glimpse of the end of the cabin table and of a man's back. Evidently the small space was crowded— he could see legs and knees and hands.

"So the upshot of it is," said a fierce, halting voice, "that we sail at dawn.''

XXXIV

Escudero was speaking. Though Pedro could not see him, he had no difficulty in recognizing his voice.

''Hombre!" he went on. "Won't we be a welcome sight in Cuba! Won't we be the pets of the Governor! When the whole armada has deserted him for a climbing double-dealer like Cortes, we show him that we're the only true men. Besides which, we put him in the way of scooping the whole pile. Ten to one, Montejo takes the treasure ship for Spain into El Marien for a last glimpse of his senora. If he does, the Governor has him like a mouse in the trap. If he doesn't, it'll be easy to overhaul him in the Bahama Channel. There's not a man jack of us but can look for an encomienda out of this, with broad gold pieces to boot. Let Cortes's five hundred fools have their empire if they can get it! Only a million armed Indians to conquer!" . . . Escudero laughed. "Cuba looks softer to me."

A murmur of agreement answered. Then a voice, which Pedro couldn't identify, put in: "That's all right, but what's the hurry? Cortes is at Cempoala. We could stand more water and supplies, and Ave can take some on tomorrow. Why not sail next day? It's a long 5tretch to Cape Anton."

Pedro heard the thud of a fist on the table. "Gentlemen," said Escudero, "believe me, A lame goat takes no siesta. If something's to be done, do it. We're safe tonight—not a suspicion. Tomorrow, who knows? And you can see yourselves taking on stores tomorrow with no questions asked, eh? Under the nose of every ship in the fleet? Very likely, isn't it? No, sirs, the cassava bread may not be very good, but we've eaten weevils before and can eat them again. We've got fish and oil. We'll run north and fill the casks at the Panuco. I'm telHng you. You'll regret it unless you sail with the dawn wind."

In Pedro's mind, the theft of the jewels was by now eclipsed by this vastly more important threat. He knew how much Cortes feared that word of the army's declaration of independence from Governor Velasquez should reach Cuba before its position had been legalized by the King in Spain. It was necessary, besides, to have greater . achievements to show than a few provinces along the coast. If Velas-

quez heard prematurely that the expedition sent out by him had shaken off his jurisdiction, it would mean armed interference from Cuba, probable bloodshed, and the wreck of everything that had been accomplished. Moreover, the sailing of the Gallega concerned not merely the loss of a few jewels, but of the treasure ship itself with the entire proceeds thus far of the venture. That in its turn entailed the loss of the King's recognition which the gold was being sent to buy.

Listening intently, however, it seemed to him that one thing in Escu-dero's speech rang hollow. Every ground for haste had been given except the theft of the jewels, the one compelling reason that made haste imperative. Was it that Escudero and Cermefio had taken the emeralds without the knowledge of the others? As it happened, almost the next words cleared up this point.

It was admitted that the casks could be replenished further along the coast and that prudence counseled flight. "But how did it happen," asked someone—Pedro guessed it was Umbria, a seaman who had been one of the arch mutineers from the beginning—"that you weren't able to bring a sample of the treasure with you? I thought you told us that one of the temple papas showed you a door. Didn't it work, or what?"

"For Dios'' returned the other, "we did our best, didn't we, Cermefio?"

"Aye, aye," answered.the latter. "But young Pedro de Vargas was on guard. We couldn't get him away from his post, though we tried hard enough."

"And it wouldn't have done to risk the whole project for a few pesos," Escudero added. "What difference does it make anyhow, as long as we get the whole cargo in the end?"

"It makes this difference," someone growled, "that it won't be us but the Governor who gets it. If you'd brought something along, at least we'd have had our share of that."

Escudero took it lightly. "Don't worry about your share, Bernardino. You'll have no cause to complain when we get to Cuba."

Pedro grinned. The two rogues were holding out on the others. Whatever happened in Cuba, they had lined their own pockets.

Cermefio changed the subject. "Well, if we're sailing in three hours, we've got that much sleep coming. I'm for bed."

Pedro at once started backing up the companionway.

He must somehow get to shore and warn the commander at the fort. It was Juan de Escalante, an able officer and one devoted to Cortes. Escalante would be able to take measures, provided only there

I was time and that Pedro could escape undetected. His plan was to regain the deck, drop below the rail and wait until the group below had dispersed, then try to get off in the small boat.

"Ho!" said a surprised voice behind him. "Who's this?"

Evidently a seaman, also eavesdropping, had mistaken Pedro in the darkness for one of his mates.

De Vargas turned and tried to shove upward, but found himself in a bear's grapple. The narrow companionway made fight impossible. The next instant both men lost their footing and catapulted down, emerging into the cabin with a crash, amid the stupefaction of the group there. They landed against the table and rolled to one side. Arching himself, Pedro threw off the other and sprang to his feet, only to face a circle of knives.

"Redhead de Vargas!" roared somebody. "By the Lord God!"

Arms pinioned him from behind. His sword was jerked out of its scabbard. His poniard disappeared at the same moment.

"Cortes's spaniel, eh?" growled Escudero. "Let me have the handling of him!" From the farther end of the cabin, he started shouldering his way toward the prisoner, his knife in hand and uptilted.

"Not so fast," said Bernardino de Coria. He was a wild blade of a man, reckless, but likable in a rakehell way. "No hurry. All in good time. Stand back, will you? How now! My word, we'll give him a hearing, won't we?"

"Cermefio!" snapped Escudero, trying in vain to get past Coria. But as Cermefio struck, his wrist was caught by the seaman, Umbria.

"Come, come," said the latter. "What's the haste? Why kill a man unheard? If it's necessary later—"

He pushed Cermefio back. Juan Diaz, a discontented priest who seconded Olmedo as chaplain, added his protest. "Calm yourselves, my sons."

Pedro thought fast. He knew perfectly well why Escudero and Cermefio were in a hurry, and he understood the advantage that this knowledge gave him.

"Thank you, sefiores," he said. "Before you let these gentlemen kill me, better ask what they did with the emeralds that they took from the treasure room tonight."

A tense hush fell in the cabin. The pairs of eyes which had been leveled at Pedro now shifted to the two ringleaders. A seaman, who had been holding de Vargas from behind, relaxed his grip. It would have been easy at that moment for Pedro to break loose and make a dash for the companiomvay, but he had sense enough to stay quiet.

Cermeno ran his tongue across his lips. Escudero laughed. "Trust one of Cortes's spies to lie! If you can find an emerald on either of us, I'll pay you for it."

His broad, blunt face looked so perfectly assured that Pedro's certainty wavered. His voice had the ring of truth. Perhaps they had already hidden the jewels. But where? Certainly not on shore, as they were about to sail. Perhaps on the ship, but they had hardly had time.

Pedro remembered a current thieves' dodge which he had heard at Sanlucar and took a long chance.

"The emeralds may not be on these gentlemen. The gentlemen may be on the emeralds. You might begin by having a look at their shoes. But on them or under them, by my faith, they know where the stones

are."

"How do you know they know?" growled Umbria. He had a crinkly brown beard, which he jutted out as if to point the question.

"Because they did get me away from my post; because the emeralds were taken while I was gone; and because the concealed door was open."

"Jesus Maria!" snarled Coria, showing his buckteeth. "And they talk about liars! 'Sdeath! You can understand why they wanted de Vargas out of the way quickly. By God, fellows, we'll have every stitch off them and purge them to boot."

Escudero gave in; but he laughed again, jerking his head back. The glance he shot at Pedro would have killed if possible.

"Curse you for a hothead, Bernardino! Ever hear of a joke? Cer-mefio and I were only fooling. Thought we'd surprise you later before getting to Santiago. What you don't expect is more of a treat, isn't it? Man, we've got five beauties with us that Master Fox Cortes intended for the King himself. Ten thousand pesos if they're worth a copper. How's that for a haul? A thousand pesos to each of us."

He did it well but met with glum silence.

"Hand 'em out," said Coria. Juan Diaz, the priest, studied the ceiling. Umbria and the four other seamen glowered. It took no mind reader to guess-the drift of their thoughts.

With as good grace as the action permitted, Escudero and Cermeiio removed their boots. Pedro's long shot seemed to have hit the mark. They tried to laugh it off and sneered about the thief he had been to school to.

"Set a thief to catch one," grunted Coria.

They pried off the boot heels with their knives and brought out the emeralds from the hollow spaces cut out within the heels themselves.

The glow of the stones, passing from hand to hand and held up in the dim light of the lanthom, lessened the tension and shifted scrutiny from the two culprits. Privately perhaps everyone admitted that he would have done as much in their place. The watchful attention with which the stones were handed around spoke volumes for the trust that each member of the group placed in the next. When the inspection was over, it became a problem where to safeguard them.

"Lock them in that chest," suggested Escudero, unabashed, "and give the key to Father Juan. The holy character of a priest, senores, puts him above suspicion."

"No, thank you," said Diaz. Furtively he fingered his throat. "I'd rather not."

"Well, then," proposed Coria, "lock them in that chest and throw the key overboard. The character of the sea, gentlemen, puts it above suspicion."

He raised the lid of a heavy, iron-bound box, provided with an intricate lock. "Put the emeralds inside there. . . . Good. . . » Ever)'body bears witness that in his presence the jewels have been placed in the chest? Look again, gentlemen. Good! I now lock the chest, as you see"—Coria suited the action to the words, opened a porthole—"and throw the key into the water." The splash sounded. Coria added: "\Ve'll open the chest together before reaching Santiago. It'll be a good man who can force that box without noise enough to put the rest of us onto it."

Pedro coughed. Momentarily forgotten, he became once more the focus of an uneasy, somewhat perplexed attention.

Escudero growled, "I suppose now there isn't any objection to dealing with Cortes's eavesdropper, is there?"

With folded arms, Pedro leaned against the wall of the cabin. He was playing a dangerous game and must make no false step, but he enjoyed the excitement of it.

"Deal with me?" he repeated. "Sirs, you'll have to admit that except for me, you wouldn't have ten thousand pesos in that chest."

An obscure mutter expressed agreement. He could sense that no one except Escudero and Cermeiio bore him a personal grievance; but that would not save his life unless he was careful.

Coria shook his head. "You see how it is, de Vargas. Our necks wouldn't be worth a tinker's curse if Cortes or Escalante knew what we're up to. We can't put you ashore—"

"I'd pay the hangman if you did," Pedro interrupted. "Without those emeralds, I'm a dead man if Cortes has the say of it. They were

taken when I should have been on guard. You know the General."

The obvious truth of this made an impression. Pedro followed it up.

"So I'm for you and Governor Velasquez. Frankly, if I could have had those stones, I'd have gone back. Now Cuba seems healthier, if you follow me."

Umbria grinned. "We follow you. How about it, friends?"