The Indian laid the coin down on the deck, and crossing himself, looked Amyas in the face.
“No, senor! I am a freeman and a cavalier, a Christian Guayqueria, whose forefathers, first of all the Indians, swore fealty to the King of Spain, and whom he calls to this day in all his proclamations his most faithful, loyal, and noble Guayquerias. God forbid, therefore, that I should tell aught to his enemies, who are my enemies likewise.”
A growl arose from those of the men who understood him; and more than one hinted that a cord twined round the head, or a match put between the fingers, would speedily extract the required information.
“God forbid!” said Amyas; “a brave and loyal man he is, and as such will I treat him. Tell me, my brave fellow, how do you know us to be his Catholic majesty's enemies?”
The Indian, with a shrewd smile, pointed to half-a-dozen different objects, saying to each, “Not Spanish.”
“Well, and what of that?”
“None but Spaniards and free Guayquerias have a right to sail these seas.”
Amyas laughed.
“Thou art a right valiant bit of copper. Pick up thy dollar, and go thy way in peace. Make room for him, men. We can learn what we want without his help.”
The Indian paused, incredulous and astonished. “Overboard with you!” quoth Amyas. “Don't you know when you are well off?”