The Valkyrie had no Devon lads with hearts of oak, experienced at this game of swarming over a ship’s side and clearing her decks. The Colombians had been demoralized by wounds and disaster. A respite was necessary, to inspire the rest of the crew, to drill them, to show what was expected of them. They were bewildered, fatigued, and ignorant of the tactics of such an adventure as this. Another day, and they could be led against the schooner. Reluctantly the attack was postponed.
Mr. Duff tramped to the bridge and urged his skipper to turn in until daylight. The ship didn’t need him. The wounded men were quiet.
“All right, Mr. Duff. I’ll go below soon. I am not worried about the ship. You will look after her, but I feel like a daddy to those poor fellows that got hurt. It sort of cheers them up if they happen to be awake when I go the rounds.”
“You take it too hard, Captain Cary,” bluffly replied the battered veteran of a chief officer. “The men might have been stove up as bad as this in a shindy ashore in some port. I had a ship in Valparaiso one time—Lord love you, the police and the sailors fought it to a fare-ye-well.”
“That wasn’t Cocos Island, Mr. Duff. Now keep this to yourself. If things break wrong for me, you understand, you are to take this steamer back to Cartagena, subject to the owner’s orders. And you can keep the command of her, I have no doubt, if she can be made to earn her way in coastwise trade. You have made good with me and with Señor Bazán.”
“Thank you, sir. What’s the oration about? Going to run some fool risk, are you? It isn’t worth it, let me tell you. You are young and husky, and there’s a fine life and a long life ahead of you. Why get bumped off in a tuppenny rumpus like this? Hell’s bells, why don’t you let me do the dirty work? Give me a chance to pay you back, Captain Cary. You fished me out of the garbage can and put me on my feet. I’ll go up against this Don Miguel O’Donnell the minute you say the word.”
Richard Cary shook his head. He had said all he had to say. Daylight found him again on the bridge, intently studying the schooner. He was astonished and chagrined. Outwitted for the second time! Forestalled and beaten! During the night two machine guns had been mounted on the schooner’s deck, one well forward, the other near the after cabin. No boats could hope to approach the vessel and throw men on board. To attempt it even by night would be bloody suicide. Richard Cary’s intentions were snuffed out. The stout lads of Devon never had to reckon with streams of bullets sprayed from machine guns.
The day passed uneventfully. Men were always loafing near the schooner’s machine guns. Another midnight hour came. The tide was flooding into the bay. The sky was slightly overcast. The stars were mistily veiled. The bay slept in a soft obscurity.
Captain Cary called Mr. Duff aside to confide: “This seems to be up to me. Please keep the ship quiet. Look and listen. If you hear me yell for you, bring your men over in the yawl.”
“Blast my picture, sir, what do you mean? Are you going to tackle that armed vessel alone?”