"And why not, Martino?" she questioned in soft, wheedling fashion. "Am I so hateful to you yet? Wherefore go?"
"Because I had rather lie in my fetters out yonder at the mercy o' wind and wave!" said I.
Now at this she fell to sudden weeping and, as suddenly, to reviling me with bitter curses.
"Go then!" cried she, striking me in her fury. "Keep your chains--aye, I will give ye to the mercy of this rabble crew ... leave me!" The which I did forthwith and, finding me a sheltered corner, cast myself down there and fell to hearkening to the rush of the wind and to watching the awful might of the racing, foam-capped billows. And, beholding these manifestations of God's majesty and infinite power, of what must I be thinking but my own small desires and unworthy schemes of vengeance! And bethinking me of Don Federigo (and him governor of Nombre de Dios) I began planning how I might use him to my purpose. My mind full of this, I presently espied the mate, Resolution Day, his laced hat and noble periwig replaced by a close-fitting seaman's bonnet, making his way across the heaving deck as only a seaman might (and despite his limp) and as he drew nearer I hailed and beckoned him.
"Aha, and are ye there, camarado!" said he. "'Tis well, for I am a-seeking ye."
"Tell me, Resolution, when shall we sight Nombre de Dios?"
"Why look now, if this wind holdeth fair, we should fetch up wi' it in some five days or thereabouts."
"Don Federigo is governor of the town, I think?"
"Verily and so he is. And what then?"
"Where lieth he now?"
"Safe, friend, and secure. You may lay to that, brother!"
"Could you but get me speech with him--"
"Not by no manner o' means whatsoever, amigo! And the reason why? It being agin her orders."
"Is he well?"
"Well-ish, brother--fairly bobbish, all things considered, mate--though not such a hell-fire, roaring lad o' mettle as yourself, comrade. David slew Goliath o' Gath wi' a pebble and you broke Black Pompey's back wi' your naked hands! Here's a thing as liketh me mighty well! Wherefore I grieve to find ye such an everlasting fool, brother."
"How so, Resolution?"
"When eyes look sweetness--why scowl? When lips woo kisses--wherefore take a blow instead? When comfort and all manner o' delights be offered--why choose misery forrard and the bloody rogues o' her fo'castle? For 'tis there as you be going, mate--aye, verily!" Here he set a silver whistle to his mouth and blew a shrill blast at which signal came two fellows who, at his command, dragged me to my feet and so away forward.