To his further annoyance, San Benavides, who depended on his compatriot for a summary of the latest scheme, asked Iris to accompany De Sylva and himself to the hut.
"They are stupid creatures, these peasants," he said. "When they see you they will not be frightened."
There was so much reason in the statement that Iris was a ready volunteer. Soon all hands were at work, and it was due to the girl's forethought that strips of linen were procured from Luisa Gomez, and healing herbs applied to the cuts and bruises of the injured men. Sylva was all for leaving the two soldiers on the island, but Coke's sailor-like acumen prevented the commission of that blunder.
"No, that will never do," he said, with irritating offhandness. "These jokers will be found at daylight, an' they'll be able to say exactly wot time we quit. The wimmin can make out they was scared stiff an' darsent stir. It 'ud be different with the sojers. An' we ain't goin' to have such a 'eart-breakin' start, even if the cruiser clears away soon after two o'clock."
"Where do you propose to make for?"
"Where d'ye think, mister? Nor'-east by nor', to be sure, until we sight some homeward-bound ship."
There was a pause. The pair could talk unheard, since they were standing on the bank, and the men were either loading firewood and fruit and cassava, or stripping trees and vines to hide the superstructure of the launch.
"You mean to abandon everything, then?" said De Sylva. He seemed to be watching the onward sweep of the search-light as the warship went to the north. But Coke was shrewd. He felt that there was something behind the words, and he suspected the ex-President's motives.
"I don't see any 'elp for it," he answered. "Gord's trewth, wot is there to abandon? I've lost me ship, an' me money, an' me papers, an' 'arf me men. Unless one was lookin' for trouble, this ain't no treasure island, mister."
"Yet it might be made one."