“Yes, my good friend,” he said quietly; “that is the great enemy. Ah! if you could show me how to get control of that it would mean all. Still I do not despair. She is not here now, and there is the land, the country all before me. Let her keep away till after Villarayo has returned, and I have scattered all his horde of ruffians, the sweepings of the place—as I shall, for once I have landed with my warlike supplies, all that is good and true in Velova will fight for me to the death—and then the march to San Cristobal will be an easy task. The news that Villarayo and his people are scattered will go before me, and the people there will crowd to me for arms, the arms that I shall send round by your vessel to meet me there. Oh, it will be all child’s play now, and in another few days my flag will be flying at San Cristobal, as it will be flying here.”
“If,” said Fitz quietly to Poole, as the Spaniard walked forward to address his men, “he is not counting his chickens before they are hatched.”
“Yes,” said the skipper, who had heard his words; “and if the gunboat does not return.”
“Well, father, there are some things in his favour,” said Poole, “even about the gunboat.”
“What?”
“This is a very rocky coast. That gunboat must draw a good deal of water.”
“True, my boy; true.”
“And, father,” said Poole, with a smile, “they haven’t got a Burgess on board.”