"And if I were put to it," continued the old officer, in a louder tone, "I could count the masts of the frigates that pass the Ferrol."
"Draw it mild, Don Melchor," said a voice. There was a round of suppressed laughter in the dark, for Señor de las Cuevas inspired all the sea-folk with profound respect.
The old sailor turned his head angrily in the direction of the jeering remark, and, after silently trying to pierce the gloom, he said in a severe tone:
"If I knew who that was who said that I would chuck him into the sea."
Nobody dared say a word, nor was a sign of a smile seen, for it was well known in Sarrio that the Señor de las Cuevas was quite equal to fulfilling his threat.
He had served more than forty years in the navy, and had won the reputation of being a brave, punctilious officer; but his severity bordered on cruelty. When no commander of a ship exercised the old maritime laws, Don Melchor still strove to keep them in practise. It was told with horror in the town that a sailor was drowned through his making him pass three times under the keel according to the old punishment for certain transgressions; and more than a hundred men had been crippled by his blows, or had had the skin taken off their backs by his use of the rope.
However, there was no pilot or sailor who could be compared with him in his knowledge of all pertaining to the sea, the weather, ships, and all the secrets of navigation.
The little green light continued its slow approach until the form of the "Bella Paula" was visible to the naked eye, and, moreover, two or three black spots could be seen hovering around her from different sides. They were the pilot's launch and the auxiliary boats, ready to tow the ship when necessary. Sail was crowded on the ship, as there was scarcely any wind. However, it was too near the breakwater not to be dangerous. At least Don Melchor thought so, for he began to swear under his breath, and to seem uneasy. At last, no longer able to restrain himself, although he knew he was not within earshot, he cried out:
"Furl the maintopsail, Domingo! What are you waiting for?"
He had scarcely uttered these words when the almost imperceptible forms of the sailors were seen on the mastheads.