“What!” roared the tiger, “a coward!” and, no longer able to contain himself he levelled his pistol at me and drew the trigger. It missed fire; Vincent looked very confused—he tossed the pistol on deck, folded his arms and turned his face away.
There was a dead silence. The negro crew looked first at me and then at the captain, as if awaiting orders, and uncertain of the issue. The Dutch gentleman seemed to be so lost in surprise, as to almost forget his impending fate; while the little girl clung to him and stared at me with her deep blue eyes. It was what on the theatres they would call a tableau.
I followed up my advantage. Stepping forward, and placing myself before the old man and the child, I first broke the silence.
“Captain Vincent,” said I, “you did once promise me that you would never injure me or attempt my life; that promise you have broken. Since that, you have made me another promise—you may recollect it—which was, that you would allow me to leave you on the first favourable opportunity; there cannot be any opportunity more favourable than the present. The negroes whom you are to send back to the schooner do not know how to navigate her. I request, therefore, to know whether you intend to keep this second promise, or to break it as you have the first? I ask my liberty.”
“If I broke my promise just now, it was your fault,” replied Vincent, coolly. “I am sorry for it, and I can say no more; I intended to keep it, and, to prove so, I now keep my second—you may go.”
“I thank you for that. I only wish that, now I leave you, I could leave you with feelings of good-will and not of—I must say it—of horror and disgust. Captain Vincent, once more let me beg, as a last favour, that you will spare these poor people.”
“Since you are so particularly interested about this useless old man and still more useless child,” replied Vincent, sarcastically, “I will now make a proposal to you. You have your liberty. Do you choose to give it up and remain here, provided I let them go away in the schooner? Come now—take your choice; for I swear by my colour, that if you go away in the schooner, the moment you shove off, they shall go over the gunwale.”
“My choice is then made,” replied I; for I knew that when he swore by his colour he was in earnest: “release them, and I will remain here.” I little knew what I was to undergo in consequence of this decision.
“Be it so,” said Vincent: then turning to one of the mates, “let them go back with the negroes; hoist the boat up when she returns, and sail for the Rendezvous.” So saying, he went down into the cabin.
“You are saved,” said I, going up to the old Dutch gentleman; “lose no time; get into the boat as fast as possible, and make sail on your vessel as soon as you get on board. Good bye, little girl,” said I, taking her hand.