“We are not south of the equator yet,” said Greaves.
“Dot vhas still very right,” returned Bol.
“Why should you expect me to break through my understanding with you?”
“Captain, it’s like this,” exclaimed one of the Englishmen, named Thomas Teach. “Had the secret of this here expedition remained yourn and yourn only, we should have been willing to wait for your own time to larn where we was going to. We’ve got nothing to say against Mr. Fielding—quite the contrairy; he’s a good mate, and I reckon as he finds us men that are under him willing and civil.”
“True,” said I loudly.
“But,” continued Teach, “Mr. Fielding wasn’t one of the original ship’s company. With all proper respect, sir, to him and to you, us men consider that since he knows where we’re a-going to, it’s but fair that we, as the original company, should likewise be told where we’re a-going to without waiting to receive the news till we cross the equator.”
He looked along the faces of his mates, and there was a general murmur of assent, Bol’s grunt deeply accentuating the forecastle note of acquiescence.
“Enough!” cried Greaves, “I am not here to reason with you, but to keep my promise. You want to know where this brig is bound to? Now attend, and you shall have the whole secret in the wag of a dog’s tail. D’ye know the Galapagos, any of you?”
“I’ve sighted them islands,” answered the seaman named Friend. The rest held their peace.
“Well,” continued Greaves, “south of the Galapagos there’s an island, and in that island there’s a cave, and in that cave there stands, grounded, with the heads of the topmasts hard pressed against the roof of the cave, a large full-rigged ship, and in the hold of that large full-rigged ship, there lies, stowed away, a number of cases filled with Spanish dollars. Those cases we are going to fetch, and that’s the brig’s errand.”