Seating himself at one of the tables, he ordered some refreshments, and was discussing them, when Captain De Vere, accompanied by two other gentlemen, entered, and placing themselves at an adjoining table, continued the conversation they had been engaged in before their entry.
Willis’s back being toward them, he would not have seen De Vere, had not his attention been attracted by hearing the name of the Maraposa mentioned; when turning around, he discovered the English Captain. His first impulse was to get up, and by insulting De Vere, compel him to give satisfaction for the contumely he had heaped upon his name the night of the ball; but remembering his person was unknown to the Englishman, he thought he would first learn the subject of their conversation.
“You only feel sore, De Vere, because the slaver dismasted you, and then played you such a slippery trick when you thought you were sure of her. By the Virgin! I would like to have seen you getting cut to pieces by a little schooner, and you unable to return a shot. Faith, I don’t blame you for hating the fellow so,” said one of De Vere’s friends.
“Hate him! yes, I would give a thousand pounds to have him on the beach alone for half an hour. Every midshipman in port laughs at the Scorpion, and says her sting was extracted by a musqueto; but, by heavens! if I can’t get a fight out of the captain, I will have the schooner as soon as she gets past the Moro.”[[6]]
Willis, who desired a personal encounter as much as De Vere, waited until he had finished, and stepping up to the group, bowed to the captain, and told him he had the honor of being Charles Willis, master of the schooner Maraposa; and that he would be happy to accommodate him with his company as soon as it would suit his convenience.
This sudden and unexpected movement startled De Vere and his friends; but the Englishman soon recovered his composure, and struck by the appearance of Willis, in whom, to his surprise, he discovered a gentleman of refined manners, when he expected to meet a rough, rude sailor, returned his salute, and said “That the next morning at sunrise he would meet him on the sea-shore, six miles above the city, accompanied by a friend; and if Mr. Willis had no objection, the weapons should be pistols.”
Willis replied “that it was a matter of indifference to him, and if he preferred pistols, he was perfectly satisfied;” and with a bow he wished them good afternoon, and left the saloon.
After Willis’s departure, De Vere’s friends commenced joking him upon his success, in having so soon been able to get an opportunity of revenging himself upon the dismantler of his brig.
But on the eve of a deadly encounter with a determined antagonist, a man, no matter how brave, does not feel like jesting; and after engaging the services of one of the gentlemen for the morrow, looking at his watch, De Vere suddenly remembered a pressing engagement, and bidding his companions adieu, he went to Don Manuel’s to spend another evening, perhaps his last, with Señorita Clara, to whom he was now engaged to be married.
Willis, after leaving the café, proceeded to the office of his agent, where business matters detained him until nearly dark. Attracted by the appearance of a splendid equipage that came driving from the other end of the street as he was about starting for his vessel, he looked to see if he knew the inmates, and discovered Francisca and her father sitting on the back seat. He would have gone on without speaking, but the recognition had been mutual; and the vehicle instantly stopping, Don Manuel got out, and approaching Willis with dignity and great kindness mingled in his manner, and deep feeling in his words, thanked him for his assistance and gallantry to his daughter; and begged Willis to point out some substantial method by which he could prove his gratitude, and told him he had waited all the morning on board the schooner to see him.