The captain gave us no assistance; he still remained like one dazed, standing on the headland watching the seas hammer his ship to pieces.
The worst of the gale had now spent itself, for the clouds began to break and the rain ceased. We marched the rescued men back to the camp as soon as they were recovered sufficiently. I guessed from Paul’s presence that there had been a mutiny, and an attempt to run away with the ship. I would not, however, speak to him, but gave orders to the armed natives to guard them closely and kill any who attempted to escape. Then I went back to Hoogstraaten. He had somewhat mastered himself, and taking my arm asked me how it happened. I said I had asked no questions, but it must have been a mutiny, as Paul was amongst them. As we descended, the sea flung a body on to the rocks close to us. We both recognized it. It was Arendsoon!
Arrived at the camp I proceeded to question Paul for the benefit of the captain, otherwise I would not have spoken to him.
“What have you been doing in our absence?” I asked.
“Arendsoon is the culprit; but for him I would have kept my word.”
“He is dead,” I answered.
“He had a party of discontented seamen on board, and persuaded them to seize the ship during the captain’s absence. Zolca was enticed on board, then seized and confined with the others.”
“What others?” demanded the captain.
“Herr Vanstrooken, the boatswain, the carpenter, and five sailors.”
“Were they on board when you were wrecked, or did you murder them before starting?” I asked.