"We will, we will!"
"That's well. Heave that carrion overboard," kicking the body of the priest. "Now we'll go back and pick up Sawkins," he continued. "Ready about, station for stays!"
"Look you, Captain Morgan," cried Hornigold, pointing to leeward. "The squall! 'Twill be soon on us. We'd best reduce sail and run for it."
"Nay," said Morgan, "I'll allow not even a storm to interfere with my plans. Flow the head sheets there! Hard down with the helm! Aft, here some of you, and man the quarter boat. I said I'd pick him up, and picked up he shall be, in spite of hell!"
The ship, like all Spanish ships, was unhandy and a poor sailor. Morgan, however, got all out of her that mortal man could get. With nice seamanship he threw her up into the wind, hove her to, and dropped a boat overboard. Teach had volunteered for the perilous command of her and the best men on the ship were at the oars. Sawkins had managed to catch the grating and was clinging feebly when the boat swept down upon him. They dragged him aboard and then turned to the ship. The sinister squall was rushing down upon them from the black horizon with terrific velocity. The men bent their backs and strained at the oars as never before. It did not seem possible that they could beat the wind. The men on the ship beseeched Morgan to fill away and abandon their comrades.
"No!" he cried. "I sent them there and I'll wait for them if I sink the ship!"
Urged by young Teach to exertion superhuman, the boat actually shot under the quarter of the galleon before the squall broke. The tackles were hooked on and she was run up to the davits with all her crew aboard.
"Up with the helm!" cried Morgan the instant the boat was alongside. "Swing the mainyard and get the canvas off her. Aloft, topmen, settle away the halliards! Clew down! Lively, now!"
And as the ship slowly paid off and gathered away the white squall broke upon them. The sea was a-smother with mist and rain. The wind whipped through the shrouds and rigging, but everything held. Taking a great bone in her teeth the old Almirante Recalde heeled far over to leeward and ripped through the water to the southward at such a pace as she had never made before. On the quarter-deck a drenched, shivering, and sobbing figure knelt at Morgan's feet and kissed his hand.
"Wilt obey me in the future?" cried the captain to the repentant man.