"Well, they can't squeeze a town that's empty." Winston turned to Bartholomew. "So why don't we start by giving this navy a little token of our thanks. Set these Spaniards free to go back and help clear out Villa de la Vega. By the time the damn'd Roundheads get there, there'll be nothing to find save empty huts."
"Well, sir, it's a thought, I'll grant you. Else we could try and get over there first ourselves, to see if there's any gold left to be had. These Spaniards' Romanish churches are usually good for a few trinkets." The boucanier looked down again. A line of longboats was now edging across the bay below, headed for the shore beneath the fort. He glanced back at his men. "What say you, lads?"
"There's no point to it, Cap'n, as I'm a Christian." One of the grizzled boucaniers behind him spoke up. "There're lads here aplenty who've sailed for the English navy in their time, an' I'm one of 'em. You can be sure we'd never get past those frigates with any Spanish gold. All we'd get is a rope if we tried riflin' the town now, or holdin' it for ransom. When an honest tar borrows a brass watch fob, he's hang'd for theft; when the generals steal a whole country, it's called the spoils of war. No sir, I've had all the acquaintance I expect to with so-called English law. I warrant the best thing we can do now is try getting out of here whilst we can, and let the whoresons have what they came to find. We took this place once, by God, and we can well do it again."
There was a murmur of concurrence from the others. Some experienced seamen were already eyeing the stone corridor, reflecting on the English navy's frequent practice of impressing any able-bodied man within reach whenever it needed replacements.
"Well, sir, there's some merit in what you say." Bartholomew nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe the wisest course right now is to try and get some canvas on our brigs before this navy starts to nose about our anchorage over at the other side of the cayo.
"That's the best, make nae mistake." The Scotsman MacEwen interjected nervously. "An' if these Spaniards care to trouble keeping the damn'd Roundheads entertained whilst we're doin' it, then I'd gladly hand them back every gunner here, with a skein of matchcord in the trade. Whatever's in the town can be damn'd."
"Then it's done." Winston motioned for the Spanish commander. Captain Juan Vicente de Padilla advanced hesitantly, renewed alarm in his dark eyes.
"Do you wish to receive my sword now, capitan?"
"No, you can keep it, and get the hell out of here. Go on back to Villa de la Vega and let your governor know the English navy's invaded."
"Capitan, I do not understand your meaning." He stood puzzling. "Your speech is Ingles, but you are not part of those galeones down below?"