“The immediate release?” reiterated his Excellency. “But, señor, with all submission, to demand that may well be to demand the impossible. If I may be permitted to express an opinion, I should say that there is scarcely the remotest probability that any of the men here enumerated are still within the jurisdiction of the Governor of Panama. I have not a doubt that every one of them has, long ere this, been apportioned out among the various galleys belonging to the port, and in all likelihood every man is at this moment somewhere at sea. The utmost that Don Silvio will probably be able to do will be to indicate the name of the galley to which each man has been condemned, and perhaps to state, in a few cases, the present approximate locality of the galleys.”
“You think so?” returned George, an ominous frown gathering upon his brow. “Then, all I can say, Don Sebastian, is that if the Governor of Panama can do no more than that, it will be disastrously unfortunate for you and your city!”
Don Sebastian became visibly paler as he stirred uneasily in his chair, regarding the young Englishman questioningly and in silence for a few moments. Then he said:
“Señor, pardon me if I say that I scarcely understand you. You surely cannot mean that you will hold this town responsible for your inability to obtain possession of the men you seek?”
“You are mistaken, señor, if you imagine any such thing,” retorted George. “I hold every Spaniard on the continent responsible for the safety and well-being of those men. It was by Spanish treachery that they are at this moment living in hell upon earth—for I know something of what life as a galley-slave means—and I am going to employ every possible means at my disposal to bring pressure upon you and your fellow-countrymen to right the wrong that has been done. Therefore, I beg that, in communicating with the Governor of Panama, you will make it clear to him that, to save Nombre from sack and destruction, he must exhaust his utmost powers to secure the speedy release of those men.”
“But, señor—” began Don Sebastian, remonstratingly.
“Not another word, señor,” interrupted George, determinedly. “What I have said, I have said. Tell Don Silvio that I hold the shore battery, and that, therefore, Nombre de Dios is absolutely at my mercy. Tell him also that I am holding you, among others, as a hostage to secure ourselves from interference or attack by soldiery or civilians, and, in short, make it clear to him that if those men are not speedily surrendered to me, the Spaniards will have to pay dearly for them in blood and treasure. Now, please proceed with the preparation of your communication to Don Silvio, for time is flying.”
Whereupon, Don Sebastian, clutching his locks with his left hand, took pen in his right, and proceeded, with a great deal of difficulty, to draft a letter setting forth in cold black and white the critical state of affairs then existing in Nombre, and urgently entreating the Governor of Panama to leave no stone unturned to find and surrender the seventeen Englishmen, on account of whom all this fuss and pother was being made, lest worse come of it. The Don was not a particularly fluent correspondent, but he grew almost eloquent when he strove to impress upon his fellow-governor the inexorable determination displayed by the young English captain, and he wound up by quoting two or three Spanish proverbs to the effect that of two evils it was always best to choose the lesser, and that it was folly to cut off one’s nose to spite one’s face, these being intended to support Don Sebastian’s contention that it would be better to surrender the Englishmen and forego one’s righteous desire to revenge oneself upon them, rather than that a Spanish town like Nombre de Dios should be subjected to the horrors of sack and pillage. The fair copy of the letter, after the draft had been submitted for George’s approval, was still in process of being written when Señor Montalvo, booted and spurred, and otherwise dressed for the road, made his appearance. The letter, however, was finished at last, signed, sealed with the official seal, and handed to the secretary, who, a minute later, mounted upon Josefa, the black mule, went clattering out of the Grand Plaza, en route for Panama.
“Now,” said Saint Leger, when the important business of the letter to the Governor of Panama had been satisfactorily disposed of, “with your Excellency’s approval we will all retire to the shore battery, where I propose to concentrate my forces until a reply arrives from his Excellency of Panama. I noted, when leaving, that the guns of the battery effectually command the town, therefore, by holding the battery I shall hold the town also; moreover, by withdrawing my men to it, there will be the less likelihood of collisions between my people and your countrymen. I must trouble your Excellency to accompany me, and to put up, for a few days, with somewhat rougher quarters than you are accustomed to; but we will make things as comfortable as we can for you, and you may take with you any three of your servants whom you would wish to accompany you. If you will kindly issue any orders that you may wish to give, we will go at once.”
It was in vain that Don Sebastian begged to be excused from accompanying his captors to the battery, in vain that he alternately protested, represented, promised, and almost threatened; George turned a deaf ear to everything that the poor man found to say and half an hour later saw the whole party which had held the Grand Plaza marching in good order through the streets toward the battery, with the Governor and his three servants, the latter bearing heavy loads of his Excellency’s baggage, in the centre of the solid phalanx. By that time the townspeople had recovered from their first panic, and had almost settled down again into their normal condition, the shops were nearly all open, excitement was rapidly subsiding, and the citizens were mostly going about their business pretty much as usual; the English, therefore, experienced no inconvenience or interruption during their march, and in due time reached the battery, the gates of which were thrown open to receive them, and closed and bolted again after they had all entered.