“An’ if they did,” returns Blew, “what need for us to be afeerd? Seein’ that the barque’s papers are all shipshape, they’d have to leave us as they found us. Let ’em overhaul, an’ be blowed!”
“They mightn’t leave us as they found us, for all that,” argues Gomez. “Just when they took it into their heads to board the barque, might be when we would be slipping out of her. How then? Besides, other ships would have the chance of spying us at that critical moment. As I’ve said, your other arguments are wrong; I’ll answer them in detail. But first, let me tell you all, I’ve got a pretty accurate knowledge of this coast. I ought to have, considering that I spent several years on and off it in a business which goes by the name of contraband. Now, all round the shores of Panama Bay there’s just the sort of wild forest-covered country Mr Blew talks about getting strayed in. We might land within twenty miles of that port, and yet not be able to reach it, without great difficulty. Danger, too, from the savages, our first officer seems so much afraid of. Whereas, by putting ashore anywhere along here, we won’t be far from the old Nicaraguan road, that runs all through the Isthmus. It will take us to the town of Panama; any that wish to go there. But there’s another town as big as it, and better for our purpose; one wherein we’ll be less likely to meet the unpleasant experience Mr Blew speaks of. It isn’t much of a place for prisons. I’m speaking of Santiago, the capital city of Veragua; which isn’t over a good day’s journey from the coast. And we can reach it by an easy road. Still that’s not the question of greatest importance. What most concerns us is the safety of the place when we get to it—and I can answer for Santiago. Unless customs have changed since I used to trifle away some time there—and people too—we’ll find some who’ll show us hospitality. With the money at our disposal—ay, a tenth part of it—I could buy up the alcalde of the town, and every judge in the province.”
“That’s the sort of town for us—and country too!” exclaim several voices. “Let’s steer for Santiago!”
“We’ll first have to put about,” explains Gomez, “and run along the coast, till we find a proper place for landing.”
“Yes,” rejoins Harry Blew, speaking satirically, and as if exasperated by the majority going against him. “An’ if we put about just now, we’ll stand a good chance of goin’ slap on them rocks on the port beam. Thar’s a line o’ breakers all along shore, far’s I can see. How’s a boat to be got through them? She’d be bilged to a sartinty.”
“There are breakers, as you say,” admits Gomez; “but their line doesn’t run continuous, as it appears to do. I remember several openings where a boat, or ship for that matter, may be safely got through. We must look out for one of them.”
“Vaya, camarados!” puts in Padilla, with a gesture of impatience. “We’re wasting time, which just now is valuable. Let’s have the barque about, and stand along the coast, as Gil Gomez proposes. I second his proposal; but, if you like, let it go to a vote.”
“No need; we all agree to it.”
“Ay; all of us.”
“Well, shipmates,” says Harry Blew, seeing himself obliged to give way, and conceding the point with apparent reluctance; “if ye’re all in favour o’ steerin’ up coast, I an’t goin’ to stand out against it. It be the same to me one way or t’other. Only I thought, an’ still think, we’d do better by runnin’ up toward Panyma.”