For God and Gold

by Julian Stafford Corbett

'Well, I care not what comes of her,' says Jack desperately. 'I think the devil has got her for good and all. It is some hellish Indian witchcraft of these Spaniards. I am at my wits' end with her, so do what you will.'

The whole company were plainly weary of their ship, no less than was their captain, and crowded round to hear what Frank would say, very hopefully; for they had all come to think there was no hole so deep or miry that he could not draw them out of it.

'If you leave it so to me,' says Frank, 'I tell you there is only one way. The ship is dead, that is plain. It is my ship, and it is lost by no fault of master or mariner. If any is to blame it is I. You, Jack, I would have go aboard the admiral with your master and take command of her, and I will be content with a pinnace till I can capture you a smart frigate in place of this rotten tub, and incontinently we will fire her that the Spaniards may find their witchcraft has availed them nothing.'

I think this advice astonished the company a good deal, but presently they were very content with it, saying it was most worthy of their general, who was always as ready to take blame on himself as to find resolute remedies for mishaps of others. There were a few who had sailed in her the two former voyages, and would gladly have made an effort to save her, being ashamed to lose her; but when her owner so boldly gave her up and took all blame on himself, they were very glad to be rid of her.

In a few minutes the pinnaces were all laid aboard of her, so that every man might take from her whatever he wished, and thereupon poor John Drake, his eyes full of tears, fired her with his own hand. Poor Jack! my heart bled for him, but I knew it was the only saving of our venture.

So it came about as Frank had said. Not only had the whole company been glad enough to destroy the ship of which they were so proud, not only had he got his way, hard as it seemed, but by his generosity to his brother, his hearty sharing of their labour, and his cheerful resolution through it all, he stood higher with the whole company than ever he did before.

'Well, Frank,' said I, as we sailed away next day towards the Sound of Darien with the Pasha and our fully-manned pinnaces, 'you have your will, but it was a sorry trick to play them.'

'Nought but a bit of policy,' laughed he, 'such as all commanders must use at times.'

'Save you, lad, from Machiavelli and all his works,' said I, 'for I think you are fast growing Italianate. But, tell me, how was it done?'

'Why, with a spike-gimlet,' says he. 'Tom Moone pleaded hard for his beloved bark, so that my heart almost melted. Then he said he would get his throat cut; but I told him to be secret, to do it close to the keel at night, and lay something over the holes that the flow of the water should make no noise to betray him, and so it was done. It was a desperate piece of service, I know, but Tom Moone shall have cause to remember what he did for me at this pass.'