"That is it," cried Don Christoval.
"With me you leave Mariana and the negro boy?"
"So."
"A slender ship's company if it should come on to blow on a sudden," said I, smiling.
"We shall leave the vessel snug," said Captain Dopping, "and we don't reckon upon being more than three hours gone. Besides, we shall be guided by the looks of the weather. It's still summer time, ain't it?"
"You see, Mr. Portlack," said Don Christoval, leaning back in his chair and infusing a peculiar note of sweetness into his voice, "you are a navigator and my friend Captain Dopping is a navigator. It would be rash for both navigators to go ashore. Suppose an accident should befall Captain Dopping—how should we reach Cuba: nay, how should we reach a near safe port? There is no navigation among us saving what you and he have."
"I understand, sir. I also gather that when you have regained the lady you proceed forthwith to the island of Cuba?"
"To my estate there," he answered.
"You'll be able to see your way through this job?" exclaimed Captain Dopping. "The law's at the back of us. A man has a right to his own. There's no lawyer a-going to gainsay that, you know. If you steal my watch and refuse to hand it over, there's no law to hinder me from coaxing you into my view of the business with a loaded pistol."