"I agree with you," Silvestre returned dryly. "If I am not mistaken, we shall have a thunderstorm later."
During the remainder of the repast Silvestre continued to converse in very much his usual fashion. He did not refer again, however, to the prisoners. At ten o'clock he left for the shore, but before he did so, he bade me be ready to start for Cuba on the following afternoon. I tried to invent an excuse for remaining longer, but one would not come to my hand.
"Needless to say I am anxious to get on to Equinata with all dispatch," said Silvestre. "I cannot do so until I have carried out my promise to you."
"Why not go first and let the yacht come back for me?" I suggested. "I am in no particular hurry."
"I could not dream of such a thing," he answered politely. "It would be better for you to go at once. Indeed, I have this evening given the necessary instructions to Ferguson."
After that there was nothing more to be said.
As he went down the accommodation ladder an idea occurred to me. His boat was not more than a dozen lengths from the yacht's side before I had made my way up the ladder to the bridge and had entered the chart-room. Above the chart-locker was a shelf on which were kept the books of reference needful for the navigation of the yacht. In a fever of impatience I ran my eye along them until I came upon the volume I wanted. To consult the index and discover a certain island was a question of a few moments. I read what the book had to say regarding it, but I was not greatly relieved by so doing. Communication with the island was evidently only a matter of chance. I thereupon took the chart of that particular part of the Carribean Sea and studied it attentively. The nearest island to San Diaz was that of Asturia, distant something like a day and a half's steam. It was comforting to learn that numerous trading boats touched there. Let me go at once, as Silvestre had proposed, and, instead of proceeding to Cuba, induce Ferguson to put into this island. If luck favoured me, I could charter a vessel there and return to San Diaz to rescue the President and the Señorita. Having once thought of this plan, I was eager to put it into execution. I determined, however, to say nothing to Ferguson until the morrow, and only then when we were well out at sea. Friendly though the little man was to me, I had seen enough of him to feel sure that it would need but little pressure from Silvestre to undermine that friendship.
Next morning I left the yacht and went ashore to bid Silvestre farewell. I could very well have dispensed with this ceremony, but I was afraid of arousing his suspicions. I found him seated in the verandah of his house when I arrived, a cigar in his mouth, and a book in his hand. He greeted me pleasantly enough. As I looked at him I could not help recalling the evening when I had seen him seated in the little summerhouse of the inn at Falstead. How many things had happened since that memorable afternoon!
He rose to receive me and held out his hand.
"I wonder whether we shall ever see each other again, Helmsworth?" he said, when I had seated myself. "You have done me a great service, and in the name of the people of Equinata I thank you for it. You will return to Falstead at once, I suppose," he went on, after a short pause, "marry the girl of your heart, and settle down to shire life. I wonder what my fate will be?"