“THEN, LIKE A FLASH, FOR HE WAS A QUICK BOY, DIEGO STRUCK THE OTHER BOY ON THE CHEEK.”
One thing that he did especially was to follow his antagonist with his eye, as he went about his work; and, in spite of his dislike for him and prejudice against him, he could not help admitting that he seemed to understand the business of a sailor very well. And once he heard the man who had gone aboard with him address him as Juan Cacheco.
When the Pinta reached the mouth of the river, she dropped anchor again near to where the Santa Maria and the Niña were anchored. The former was the admiral’s vessel and the largest, and the latter was commanded by a brother of Martin Alonzo, and was the smallest. The largest was small enough, and it did not surprise Diego to hear his own thought uttered in a dismal, surly growl on the other side of him.
“Three crazy tubs for a crazy voyage!”
Diego turned to see if the remark was addressed to him and to see who had uttered it. It had evidently not been made to him, for which he was glad when he saw the ugly, sullen face of the companion of Juan Cacheco turned towards the other two vessels. He started to move away from the man, when the latter shifted his gaze from the vessels to him, and said, in a tone of half-surly friendliness:
“I think we’re of the same opinion as to that. Eh, boy?”
“I know naught about it,” answered Diego, without making any effort to conceal the repugnance he had for the man, whom he did not think of as a fellow-voyager, but only as a convict.
“Hah!” ejaculated the man, showing by his sudden change of tone and by his scowl that he comprehended Diego’s feeling towards him. “‘Tis the cockerel that crowed so bravely on the quay and changed his tone so soon after. We’ll clip your comb before this voyage is half done, my little bird, or my name is not Miguel de la Vega.”