“And I may say things I should not, Martin Alonzo Pinzon; but the shame will be yours, not mine,” and the pallor on his cheek gave place to a red flush.
“To the mast with him!” said Martin Alonzo, a flush showing, too, on his bronzed cheek.
Chapter VII.
An audible murmur ran through the crowd of spectators, and Martin Alonzo knew, without looking, that it was caused as much by the well-disposed as by the disaffected among the crew, and he was certain that some of the cabin passengers had helped to swell the murmur; but he was not the man to deviate from his intention for the opinion of others, and so only repeated:
“To the mast, I say!”
So Diego was triced to the mast and the crew driven in a body forward. The flogging would be no light thing, but it was the bitter humiliation that Diego dreaded most. He almost wished Miguel had thrown him overboard the night before.
Miguel! Yes, he was suffering this for him and for Juan. He had not taken the oath they had wished him to swear, and yet he was as faithful to them as if he had done so. And where were they now? Were they going to see him flogged? Would they let it be done?
He looked despairingly into the crowd of sailors, and saw many pitying faces, but not theirs. He thought bitterly that they might have given him the comfort of their sympathy.