“No,” said the skipper suddenly, “I would change nothing, Don Ramon. As far as I know, your position is magnificent.”
“Hah!” cried the Don, with his face smoothing once more, and his eyes lighting up with pleasure. “But you think my grand, my beautiful and perfect little guns that you have brought me are well-placed?”
“Capitally,” said the skipper sincerely. “But they are not perfect,” said the Don, with a peculiar smile, as he keenly watched the skipper the while. “There is one thing wanting.”
“Surely not,” cried the skipper angrily. “I saw them packed myself, and I can answer for it that nothing was left out, unless it was in the hurry of the unpacking last night. Quick, while there is time! What has been left behind? Do you mean there is something still on board?”
“Yes, my good friend,” said the Don softly; “the crew. Captain Reed,” he continued excitedly, “with your brave fellows to man that battery the day must be my own. Villarayo’s sun would set in blood and dust; my poor oppressed country would rise in pride to happiness and peace; and I should be President indeed—my people’s father—he who has saved them from slavery and chains.”
The skipper shook his head.
“No, no,” continued the Don softly. “Listen. This country is rich in mines; there are precious stones; there is no reward you could ask me afterwards that I would not give. I care for nothing of these things, for I am fighting for my country and my people’s homes. Captain Reed, you have always been my friend, my trusted friend, who brought me all these in answer to my prayer. There is this one thing more. I ask it of my trusted friend.”
Poole glanced at his father’s stern face, which seemed to turn colder and harder than he had ever seen it before, and then turned quickly to look at Fitz, who was watching him with questioning eyes which seemed to say, What will he reply?
But reply there was none, apparently for minutes, though the space of time that elapsed could have been numbered in moments, before he spoke, and then it was in a low, softened and pained voice.
“No, Don Ramon,” he said. “You ask me for what I cannot give.”