"All right, then—follow me."
"We jumped down from our roost, leveled our pistols at the crowd, and threatened to fire if hostilities should not instantly cease on both sides.
"Langley, hand me those pistols," cried the frenzied skipper, who was the more angry because nobody would fight with him.
"Please, sir, I can't; I daren't trust myself without 'em." Disperse, ye rebels! lay down your arms and disperse—die, base and perjured villain," shouted Langley, holding the muzzle of his pistol to Brewster's ear, while I, by poking my shooting-iron in everybody's face, obtained partial order. After a deal of difficulty the mutiny was explained; and the crestfallen Brewster withdrew his forces, followed by the mate, who conciliated his irate colleague, and gave him an inkling as to the real name and character of the rescued convict.
After the steward had cleared away the wreck of the breakfast things, a conclave of the cabin-mess was called, to which the black steward was ex officio and ex necessitate admitted; and it was determined, after much debate, that the voyage should be continued, and that during our stay in Matanzas my cousin Pedro should remain hidden on board. The next mooted point was whether to conceal the matter from the crew, and decided in the negative; so the men were called aft, and the truth briefly stated to them. One and all swore to be faithful and discreet—and so they proved. With one or two exceptions our crew were Yankees, and of a far higher grade than the crews of merchantmen generally.
During these proceedings the gale had rapidly abated, and at noon we found ourselves rolling and pitching in a heavy sea, the sun shining brightly over our heads, and not a breath of air stirring. The skipper, mate, and Cousin Pedro were closeted together in the cabin during the afternoon, while the second and third mates, and ship's cousin, compared notes sitting under the awning on the booby-hatch. I enlightened Brewster more fully as to Mr. Stewart's former adventures in Cuba; and we finally concluded that our running down the Spanish guarda-costa was the most lucky thing in the world.
"Half my plan is now accomplished to hand," said I; "we must now get my Cousin Clara out of the nunnery."
"You hadn't better try that, Frank," interposed Mr. Brewster, "because, for two reasons; in the first place, them Catholics are poor benighted heathen, and she wouldn't get out if she could—for she is a veiled nun; and the next place you'd get your neck into a certain machine called a garrote, or else make your cousin's place good in the chain-gang."
"Nevertheless, I shall try; and if she only is willing to run away, there can some plan be contrived, I know."
"And my part shall be to run old Alvarez through the body, if the devil hasn't taken him already," added Mr. William Langley.