"The animal who loaded the ship sold us," said Don Erminio. "If you paid him, you did not get much for your money."
Revillon drained his glass and smiled. "Your betrayer did not demand a large reward; perhaps he expected to be paid in another way. However, now it is done with, I may tell you something. To begin with I did not trust Señor Wolf, although I knew the guns were on board and must not be landed. To force you to throw them overboard would satisfy me."
"Was it not your duty to stop and search our ship?" Kit asked.
"In a sense, it was so. In fact, I think the man who sold you expected me to seize her," Revillon agreed with some dryness. "Well, I followed you and steered a course that would pin you against the shoals. I had studied the chart and pilot book, and nothing indicated that a vessel could get across." He paused and shrugged. "Well, what would you have? I imagined the guns were overboard and you had run aground. My duty was not to wreck my ship. I hauled off the coast."
"They have given you a larger vessel!" Don Erminio remarked meaningly. "I wish you luck. All sailors are honest, but not many are discreet. The politicians are animals, and I would drown the lot. Well, it is not important now, and the wine is gone."
Kit began to understand. Revillon had not been cheated; he was not very keen about seizing Mossamedes. It looked as if Wolf had engaged in dark political intrigue, and meant to use the French officer in his plot. Revillon, however, had seen his object. But the thing was done with, and Kit went off to the office of a merchant who was loading Mossamedes with grain.
When her cargo was on board she sailed for Teneriffe, and anchored at Santa Cruz to land a few barge-loads. Kit, going to the agent's in the evening, met Jefferson in the plaza.
"Mrs. Jefferson and Miss Jordan are at the Golden Pine," he said. "They went to Laguna for a holiday and I came over to bring them back. Will you walk up to the hotel with me?"
Kit wanted to go, but said he could not: Mossamedes would start for Las Palmas when they had landed another load of maize. Santa Cruz, sheltered by the volcanic range that cuts off the Trade-breeze, was very hot, and he asked why Mrs. Jefferson had left Laguna, which occupies a cool tableland behind the town.
"We meant to go back on board Campeador this morning," Jefferson replied. "The company, however, have altered the sailing bill, and Don Maccario doesn't expect the boat to arrive for some days."