“Peace!” he cried. “I want none of the wench! She is to be kept a prisoner until claimed. A share of the loot she is, but not my share. She was stolen for a great man!”
“This is the truth?” the woman asked.
“Do I generally speak falsehood?” Barbados thundered. “Enough! Put her in the storeroom, and feed her well. Treat her gently. She must be in prime condition when she is claimed. We were followed by a schooner upon which are caballeros striving to rescue her. She must not be rescued!”
The woman grinned horribly. She opened the door of a room adjoining and motioned for the señorita to enter. She stepped aside, and Lolita Pulido, looking straight ahead, her eyes fixed and glistening, went into the storeroom without speaking, her head held proudly.
Barbados hurried outside again. The black night had descended, but soon the moon was shining. Guards were sent into the fringe of woods, and a watchman to the summit of a hill in the rear. Men were posted on the ship, men walked around the huts, alert, ready to repel an attack.
But there came no attack during the night. The trading schooner had run down the coast and back, and then anchored two miles north of the bay.
“I know the place,” the captain told Don Audre Ruiz. “Once some years ago I ran in there during a storm. Their camp must be in the open, and there will be no advantage in the attack. There can be no surprise, of course.”
“What is your good advice?” Don Audre asked.
“That you land here with your caballeros, approach the camp and wait for the dawn. I’ll land as many of my crew as can be spared from the ship, and let them circle the camp to attack from the other side. There must be men enough held here to get the schooner to sea for a run if the pirate craft comes out at us.”
“That is agreed!” Don Audre said.