What can it be? They of the last dog-watch, long since relieved, should be asleep in their bunks. Why are they now on deck? Their presence there, gives surprise to the two at the wheel.
And while engaged in expressing it, and interrogating one another, they perceive the second mate coming aft—as also, that he makes approach in hurried, yet stealthy manner.
“What is it?” asks Gomez.
“A strike,” answers Padilla. “A mutiny among the men we engaged to assist us.”
“On what grounds?”
“They’ve got to know all about the gold-dust—even to the exact quantity there is of it.”
“Indeed! And what’s their demand?”
“That we shall share it with them. They say they’ll have it so.”
“The devil they do!”
“The old ladrone, Striker, began it. But what will astonish you still more; the first mate knows all our plans, and’s agreed to go in along with us. He’s at the head of the mutineers, too, and insists on the same thing. They swear, if we don’t divide equally, the strongest will take what they can. I’ve hastened hither to ask you what we’d best do.”