The Flag of Distress Part 45

Gomez is still at the wheel; his "trick" having commenced at the change of the watches. As known, he is not alone, but with Hernandez beside him.

Both are youngish men, neither above thirty; and both of swarthy complexion, though with beards of different colours; that of Gomez black, the other reddish-brown. Besides having heavy moustaches, their whiskers stand well forward on their jaws, and around their throats; growing so luxuriantly as to conceal the greater portion of their faces; the expression upon which it is difficult to determine. Equally to tell aught of their figures, draped as these are in rough sailor toggery, cut wide and hanging loosely about their bodies. Both, however, appear of about medium height, Gomez a little the taller, and more strongly built.

On their heads are the orthodox "sou'-wester" hats; that of Gomez drawn slouching over eyes that almost continually glow with a sullen lurid light, as if he were always either angry or on the point of becoming so.

At the same time he habitually keeps his glance averted, as though wis.h.i.+ng to conceal either his thoughts or his features; it may be both.

Acting in the capacity of a common sailor, he has nevertheless. .h.i.therto appeared to control the second mate, as most others of the crew, and more especially the Spaniards.

This, alleged by Striker, has been observed by Harry Blew himself; so that of the conspirators Gomez is unquestionably chief. Though Padilla engaged the hands, the instructions must have proceeded from him, and all were s.h.i.+pped on conditions similar to those accepted by the Sydney Ducks.

Five thousand dollars, for less than a month's service, would be wages too unprecedentedly large to be offered without creating suspicion of some sinister intent. Nor did he, who offered it, leave this point untouched. While promising such big bounty, he exacted a promise in return: that each recipient of it was to bear a hand in _whatever he might be called on to do_.

The men so indefinitely engaged, and on such lat.i.tudinarian terms, were not the ones to stick at trifles; and most of them stepped aboard the Chilian s.h.i.+p prepared to a.s.sist in the perpetrating of any known crime in the calendar. Since becoming better acquainted with the particulars of what they have been s.h.i.+pped for, not one of them has shown disposition to back out of it. They are still ready to do the deed; but, as seen, under changed conditions.

Gomez is not yet aware of the strike that has taken place; though during the day he has heard some whisperings, and is half expecting trouble with his confederates. Hernandez also, though it is not of this they are now conversing as they stand together at the wheel.

The theme which engages them is altogether different; beauty, not booty, being the subject of their discourse, which is carried on in a low tone, though loud enough to be heard by anyone standing near.

But they are not afraid. _No_ one is within earshot. Their comrades of the watch are away in the forward part of the vessel, while those of the off-watch are below in her forepeak--the skipper asleep in his cabin-- the pa.s.sengers in theirs.

It is about two of these last they are talking; and in terms, that, for common sailors, might seem strange--rough ribald men bandying free speech, and making familiar remarks, about such delicate high-born dames as Carmen Montijo and Inez Alvarez!

But not strange to one acquainted with Gil Gomez and Jose Hernandez--and too intelligible if knowing their intention towards these ladies. It may be learnt by listening to their conversation; Hernandez, who has introduced the subject, asking:

"About the _muchachas_? What are we to do with them after getting ash.o.r.e?"

"Marry them, of course," promptly answers the other. "That's what I mean doing with the beautiful Dona Carmen. Don't you intend the same with Dona Inez?"

"Of course--if I can."

"Can! There need be no difficulty about it, _camarado_."

"I hope not; though I think there will, and a good deal. There's certain to be some."

"In what way?"

"Suppose they don't give their consent!"

"A fig for their consent! We shall force it! Don't be letting that scare you. Whether they're agreeable or not, we'll have a marriage ceremony, or the form of one--all the same. I can fix that, or I'm much mistaken about the place we're going to, and the sort of men we may expect to meet there. When I last looked on Santiago De Veragua-- bidding adieu to a place that was rather pleasant--I left behind a few old familiars, who are not likely to have forgotten me, though long years have rolled by since. Some there, who will still be willing, and ready, to do me a service, I doubt not; especially now I have the means to pay for it, and handsomely. If the Padre Padierna be yet alive, he'll marry me to Carmen Montijo without asking _her_ any questions; or, if he did, caring what answers she might give to them. It's now nine years since I saw the worthy Father, and he may have kicked up his heels long ago; though that's not likely. He was a tough old sinner, and knew how to take care of himself. However, it won't matter much. If he's under ground, I've got another string to my bow, in the young _extra_, Gonzaga; who, in my time, had charge of souls in a _parrochia_, nearer the place where I hope we shall be able to make sh.o.r.e. He may by this have risen to be grand church dignitary. Whether or not, I've but little fear of his having forgotten old times, when he and I used to go shares in certain little adventures of the amorous kind. So you perceive, _mio amigo_, we're not drifting towards a desert coast, inhabited only by savages; but one where we'll find all the means and appliances of civilisation--among them a priest, to do the little bit of ecclesiastical service we may stand in need of, and without asking awkward questions, or caring a _claco_ for consequences. Neither of the two I've spoken of will trouble their consciences on that score, so long as it's _me_. More especially after I've shown them the colour of the stuff with which our pockets will be so plentifully lined. And if neither of my old acquaintances turn up, there are no end of others, who'll be willing to tie the knot that's to make us happy for life. I tell you, _hombre_, we're steering straight towards an earthly paradise.

You'll find Santiago all that."

"I hope it may be, as you say."

"You may rest sure of it. Once in the old Veraguan town, with these women as our wives--and they no longer able to question our calling them so--we can enter society without fear of showing our faces. And with this big _bonanza_ at our backs, we may lead a luxurious life there; or go anywhere else it pleases us. As for returning to your dear California, as you call it, you won't care for that when you've become a Benedict."

"You've made up your mind, then, that we marry them?"

"Of course I have, and for certain reasons. Otherwise, I shouldn't so much care, now that they're in our power, and we can dictate terms to them. You can do as you please respecting marriage, though you have the same reasons as myself, for changing your senorita into a senora."

"What do you allude to?"

"To the fact that both these damsels have large properties in Spain, as a worthy friend in San Francisco made me aware just before leaving. The Dona Carmen will inherit handsomely at her father's death, which is the same as if said and done now. I don't refer to his gold-dust, but a large landed property the old gentleman is soon coming into in Biscay; and which, please G.o.d, I shall some day look up and take possession of.

While the other has no end of acres in Andalusia, with whole streets of houses in Cadiz. To get all that, these women must be our wives; otherwise, we should have no claim to it, nor yet be able to show our faces in Spain."

"Of course I'm glad to hear about all that," rejoins Hernandez; "but, if you believe me, it's not altogether the money that's been tempting me throughout this whole affair. I'm mad in love with Inez Alvarez;--so mad, that if she hadn't a _claco_ in the world I'm willing to be her husband."

"Say, rather, her master; as I intend to be of Carmen Montijo. Ah! once we get ash.o.r.e, I'll teach her submission. The haughty dame will learn what it is to be a wife. And if not an obedient one, _por Dios_! she shall have a divorce, that is, after I've squeezed out of her the Biscayan estate. Then she can go free, if it so please her."

On p.r.o.nouncing this speech, the expression on the speaker's countenance is truly satanic. It seems to foreshadow a sad fate for Carmen Montijo.

For some seconds there is silence between the plotters. Again breaking it, Hernandez says:

"I don't like the idea of our putting the old gentleman to death. Is there no other way we could dispose of him?"

"Pah, _hombre_! You're always harping on the strings of humanity; striking discordant sounds too. There's no other way by which we can be ourselves safe. If we let him live, he'd be sure to turn up somewhere, and tell a tale that would get both our throats grappled by the _garrota_. The women might do the same, if we didn't make wives of them. Once that, and we can make exhibit of our marriage certificates, their words will go for nought. Besides, having full marital powers, we can take precautions against any scandal. Don Gregorio has got to die; the skipper too; and that rough fellow, the first mate--with the old blackamoor _cocinero_."

"_Maldita_! I don't feel up to all that. It will be rank wholesale murder."

"Nothing of the sort--only drowning. And we needn't do that either.

They can be tied before we scuttle the s.h.i.+p, and left to go down along with her. By the time she sinks, we'll be a long way off; and you, my sensitive and sentimental friend, neither see nor hear anything to give your tender heart a horror."

"The thought of it's enough."

"But how is it to be helped? If they're allowed to live, we'd never be out of danger. Maybe, you'd like to abandon the business altogether, and resign thought of ever having the pretty Inez for a wife?"

"There you mistake, _amigo_. Sooner than that, I'll do the killing myself. Ay, kill _her_, rather than she shall get away from me."

"Now you're talking sense. But see! What's up yonder?"

The interrogatory is from seeing a group of men a.s.sembled on the fore-deck, alongside the hatch. The sky cloudless, with a full moon overhead, shows it to be composed of nearly, if not all, the _Condor's_ crew. The light also displays them in earnest gesticulation, while their voices, borne aft, tell of some subject seriously debated.

What can it be? They of the last dog-watch, long since relieved, should be asleep in their bunks. Why are they now on deck? Their presence there, gives surprise to the two at the wheel.

And while engaged in expressing it, and interrogating one another, they perceive the second mate coming aft--as also, that he makes approach in hurried, yet stealthy manner.

"What is it?" asks Gomez.

"A strike," answers Padilla. "A mutiny among the men we engaged to a.s.sist us."

"On what grounds?"

"They've got to know all about the gold-dust--even to the exact quant.i.ty there is of it."

"Indeed! And what's their demand?"

"That we shall share it with them. They say they'll have it so."

"The devil they do!"