So Captain Blood went off to find Brazo Largo, who was sulking on the wooden jetty below the fort.
The Indian rose at his approach, an exaggerated impassivity on his countenance.
«Brazo Largo,» said the Captain, «your men have set my word at naught and put my honour in danger.»
«I not understand,» the Indian answered him. «You make friends with Spanish thieves?»
«Make friends! No. But when they surrendered to me I promised, as the condition of their surrender, that no harm should come to them. Your men would have murdered them in violation of that promise had I not prevented it.»
The Indian was contemptuous.
«Huh! Huh! You not my friend. I bring you to Spanish gold, and you turn against me.»
«There is no gold,» said Blood. «But I am not quarrelling on that. You should have told me, my friend, before we came this journey, that you were using me so that we might deliver up to you your Spanish enemy and your daughter. Then I should not have passed my word to Don Domingo that he would be safe, and you could have drunk the blood of every Spaniard in the place. But you deceived me, Brazo Largo.»
«Huh! Huh!» said Brazo Largo. «I not say anything more.»
«But I do. There are your men. After what has happened, I cannot trust them. And my pledged word compels me to defend the Spaniards so long as I am here.»