"El muchaco!" (the boy) said they, glancing at me.
"Si—el page de escoba—if he is allowed to return, a complaint may find its way to the Senor Alcalde, whose alguazils may come and borrow our topsails and anchor for a time; whereas, if we heave him where the others went yesterday——"
"Where?"
"Into the ventana, hombre!" was the fierce response; "and then no more will be heard of the affair."
My blood grew cold at these words, and I scarcely knew what followed, till the first man who spoke came forward and addressed us.
"Inglesos," said he, "we have decided that one of you, after swearing not to reveal our present hiding-place, shall return within four hours, bearing a fitting ransom for both, else, so surely as the clock strikes, he who is left behind goes into the ventana of the mountain, where never did the longest deep-sea line find a bottom—not that I suppose any man was ever ass enough to try. Santos! do you hear?" he added, striking his musket-butt sharply on the rocks, when perceiving that Tom was ignorant of all he said, and that I was stupefied by it.
"Si, senor," said I, and translated it to Tom Lambourne, who twirled his tarry hat on his fore-finger, stuck his quid in his cheek, slapped his thigh vigorously, and gave other nautical manifestations of extreme surprise and discomposure.
"Ransom, Master Rodney?" he reiterated; "in the name of old Davy, who would ransom a poor Jack like me?"
"The whole crew would table their month's wages on the capstan head—aye, in a moment, Tom," I replied with confidence.
"I'm sure they would, and the Captain and Master Hislop, too, for the matter o' that, rather than poor shipmates should come to harm; but——"