“Yes, but I didn’t give up; don’t think I did. I would never have done it.”
“You came out of the wood quietly enough,” said Martin Alonzo, reasoning that if the fight had been his, he either would have whipped or been unable to walk away from the place.
“I know it,” said Diego, more sulkily than before.
Martin Alonzo looked disappointed, and kicked the rail viciously.
“Tut!” he said, “when I left you two there, I hoped you would give a better account of yourself than this.”
“Oh,” said Diego, more mortified than ever, “you expected us to fight?”
“I would like to know,” said Martin Alonzo, “why you did not fight more.”
“Then you’d better ask him,” answered Diego, and turned away.
He had said nothing about the Portuguese caravels, from which it would seem that he was willing to have the voyage ended by them. All the remainder of that day the fleet sailed on for Ferro, and all the time that he was not eating or working, Diego leaned on the rail and moodily watched the island of Gomera fade into distance.