It was this rascal, he said, who informed the crew that they had specie aboard, which the mutineers now demanded should be given up to them and they be allowed to leave the ship in one of her boats, the mate telling them that the vessel was almost in sight of Vigo—a fact which he, the captain, had only disclosed to him in confidence that very day within an hour or so of the outbreak, so that the mutiny appeared to be a planned thing.
“Well,” said Captain Farmer, “what did you do then?”
“We refused their insolent demand, of course,” he answered, “in spite of the mate and another scoundrel drawing their knives and making for us. My brother knocked down Gomez at once, and the sailor I kicked into the scuppers; the two of us then retreated to the cabin, where we kept them at bay for the whole of that night and all the following day, as we had with us all the firearms in the ship, and it was out of their power to dislodge us.”
“And how was it then you did not succeed in getting the upper hand of them in the end, instead of the affair turning out as it did?”
In reply to this question from our captain, the Spaniard’s emotion again overcame him.
“Ay, it was all my fault, and I of all men am the most miserable!” he cried. “Yo, I it was who caused the death of those I loved best!”
“Carramba, Señor Capitano,” said Captain Farmer, trying to soothe him. “You do yourself an injustice. I can’t see where you were to blame!”
“Ah, but I do,” he answered doggedly, as if he had made up his mind on the point and no argument would persuade him to the contrary. “I ought to have recollected that there was no water or provisions in the cabin, the steward, who had joined the mutineers, keeping these always in the fore part of the ship; and, there was the poor señora, who had her little baby to nurse, suffering from hunger and thirst, as we could see, my brother and I, although she never uttered a word of complaint!”
“Poor, brave lady,” observed the captain. “She deserved a better fate!”
“Si, si, yes, yes,” said the other, “She did not complain—no, never; but, how could we stand by and see her suffer? My brother Pedro, when it came on to nightfall on the close of the second day of our blockade in the cabin, said that he would adventure out in search of food and water, the mutineers then having drunk themselves to sleep. I, however, pointed out that he had a wife and child dependent on his life, while I had no claims on mine and insisted on my right to take the risk, the more especially from my being the master of the ship. Still, he would not give in; and, ultimately, we cast the dice to decide the matter and I won the cast.”