Under the circumstances, and with such a man, it will not do to drive too hard a bargain; and Don Gregorio, thus reflecting, at length confesses his freight to be gold bullion, and asks the skipper to name his terms.
Lantanas, after a moment spent in mental calculation, says:
“One thousand dollars for the freight, and a hundred each for the three passages. Will that satisfy you, señor?”
“It seems a large sum,” rejoins Don Gregorio. “But I am aware prices are high just now; so I agree to it. When will you be ready to sail?”
“I am ready now, señor—that is, if—”
“If what?”
Lantanas, remembering his crewless ship, does not make immediate answer.
“If,” says the Spaniard, noticing his hesitation, and mistaking the reason—“if you’re calculating on any delay from me, you needn’t. I can have everything on board in three or four days—a week at the utmost.”
The skipper is still silent, thinking of excuses. He dislikes losing the chance of such a profitable cargo, and yet knows he cannot name any certain time of sailing, for the want of hands to work his vessel.
There seems no help for it but to confess his shortcomings. Perhaps Don Gregorio will wait till the Condor can get a crew. The more likely, since every other vessel in port is in a similar predicament.