“I am afraid to trust you.”
“You can trust a Catalan when he promises;” and Filipe proceeded to call upon the Virgin and the saints to witness what he said.
“Where can we land?” asked the second master.
The boatman looked over the rail of the felucca; and, when he had got his bearings, he indicated a point where a safe landing might be made. It was not a quarter of a mile distant; and Filipe said the mainsail ought to be furled. Raimundo picked up the spare tiller,—for, in spite of the Catalan’s oath and promise, he was determined to be on the safe side,—and then unfastened the ropes that bound the prisoner.
“If you play me false, I will brain you with this club, and pitch your son into the sea!” said Raimundo, as tragically as he could do the business.
“I will be true to my promise,” he replied, as he brailed up the mainsail.
“You see that your money is ready for you as soon as you land us,” continued Raimundo, as he showed the villain five Isabelinos he held in one hand, while he grasped the spare tiller with the other.
“Gracias!” replied Filipe, who was possibly satisfied when he found that he was to make the full sum he had first named as his price; and it may be that he was tempted by the urgency of his creditor to rob his passengers.
“Have your pistol ready, Lingall!” added Raimundo, as the boatman, who had taken the helm from Bill, threw the felucca up into the wind, and her keel began to grate on the rocks.