your settlements in Florida."
"Who knows how to repair a boat? We are gentlemen and soldiers, not workmen. Boats are for fishermen and sailors."
"You wish to die, then?" It was a time for brutal honesty. "A few years back a ship was wrecked on the shores of southeast Africa. It was Portuguese. The only way the people could survive was to walk, but they were mostly gentlemen and ladies who had never walked. One man was so fat he could not walk and had to be carried. The few sailors carried him only a little way, then refused to carry him further. They left him sitting on the sand. He died rather than make the effort."
"But the boat is damaged! We scarcely made the shore!"
"If it brought you this far the leaks cannot be so great. It is my thought to repair it. Believe me, the journey will be easier, and safer, than if you go by land."
"But who could do this, Captain? A gentleman such as yourself would not have the skills--"
"I have lived in your country, Don Diego, and know that a gentleman there does not work with his hands, but we Irish ... we do what needs to be done."
Guadalupe Romana walked over to us and stopped beside Don Diego. She was looking at me and her gaze was disconcerting.
"Don Diego, if you attempt to march north now, you will surely encounter the Indians who killed my men. Dangerous as the sea may be, it is preferable to the land, especially as you have women along."
"We have seen no savages," Don Manuel interrupted. "Nor do we fear them."
"If you do not fear the savages," I did not wish to offend him more, so tempered my language, "you might ask yourself if you and the women are prepared to swim the mouths of rivers? Or to cross swamps infested with snakes and alligators."
Don Manuel did not like me. What he might have said I do not know, but a fourth man now approached us, and spoke. "Senor Chantry speaks truly. On my last voyage along this coast, we came close inshore and sailed past the mouths of several rivers. There are miles of swamps. If the boat can be repaired, I would recommend it."
Don Manuel turned on his heel and walked away, disdaining to talk longer. Don Diego lingered, then followed Don Manuel, and they stood together, talking, with many gestures.
The third man remained beside me. He was a man perhaps ten years older than I, with a stern, confident way about him, a man of substance, I thought, a man who knows himself.
"Tell me," he said, "do you think we could reach Florida?"
"It is not far ... I have heard there is a colony on the Savannah River, which is even closer." I hesitated, glanced at him, and then said, "I do not know the situation there ... or here, but I have a feeling all is not well. Perhaps you would know better than I whether it is safe to go to Florida."
"Your feelings do not lie, Captain. Don Diego and Don Manuel have agreed to the marriage of the senorita. Her marriage is to a creature of Don Manuel's, through which both hope to profit. Now there is trouble."
I waited. He glanced at them, but they were concerned only with their own affairs. Senorita Romana was standing by herself near a tree. "There is trouble, indeed," he said. "Don Manuel now wishes to marry the senorita himself, and this Don Diego does not want. For if she marries Don Manuel she is out of his hands, and he will get nothing more from her. If she marries this man to whom they take her, both have a hold upon him."
"And she is but a pawn in their games?"
"A very pretty pawn, Captain, with millions at stake."
"Millions?"
He shrugged. "If the story is true. I believe but a part of it, myself. The point isthey believe it, or enough to gamble upon it, and there is much at stake."
"And you?"
"A chance bystander, who knows more than either of them but has no chance of making a penny from it. Nor would I try." He smiled wryly. "Captain, to be an honest man is not easy, but I fear that that is what I am. It is an affliction of mine that tries me sorely. Yet ... what can a man do? I want only
"Who knows how to repair a boat? We are gentlemen and soldiers, not workmen. Boats are for fishermen and sailors."
"You wish to die, then?" It was a time for brutal honesty. "A few years back a ship was wrecked on the shores of southeast Africa. It was Portuguese. The only way the people could survive was to walk, but they were mostly gentlemen and ladies who had never walked. One man was so fat he could not walk and had to be carried. The few sailors carried him only a little way, then refused to carry him further. They left him sitting on the sand. He died rather than make the effort."
"But the boat is damaged! We scarcely made the shore!"
"If it brought you this far the leaks cannot be so great. It is my thought to repair it. Believe me, the journey will be easier, and safer, than if you go by land."
"But who could do this, Captain? A gentleman such as yourself would not have the skills--"
"I have lived in your country, Don Diego, and know that a gentleman there does not work with his hands, but we Irish ... we do what needs to be done."
Guadalupe Romana walked over to us and stopped beside Don Diego. She was looking at me and her gaze was disconcerting.
"Don Diego, if you attempt to march north now, you will surely encounter the Indians who killed my men. Dangerous as the sea may be, it is preferable to the land, especially as you have women along."
"We have seen no savages," Don Manuel interrupted. "Nor do we fear them."
"If you do not fear the savages," I did not wish to offend him more, so tempered my language, "you might ask yourself if you and the women are prepared to swim the mouths of rivers? Or to cross swamps infested with snakes and alligators."
Don Manuel did not like me. What he might have said I do not know, but a fourth man now approached us, and spoke. "Senor Chantry speaks truly. On my last voyage along this coast, we came close inshore and sailed past the mouths of several rivers. There are miles of swamps. If the boat can be repaired, I would recommend it."
Don Manuel turned on his heel and walked away, disdaining to talk longer. Don Diego lingered, then followed Don Manuel, and they stood together, talking, with many gestures.
The third man remained beside me. He was a man perhaps ten years older than I, with a stern, confident way about him, a man of substance, I thought, a man who knows himself.
"Tell me," he said, "do you think we could reach Florida?"
"It is not far ... I have heard there is a colony on the Savannah River, which is even closer." I hesitated, glanced at him, and then said, "I do not know the situation there ... or here, but I have a feeling all is not well. Perhaps you would know better than I whether it is safe to go to Florida."
"Your feelings do not lie, Captain. Don Diego and Don Manuel have agreed to the marriage of the senorita. Her marriage is to a creature of Don Manuel's, through which both hope to profit. Now there is trouble."
I waited. He glanced at them, but they were concerned only with their own affairs. Senorita Romana was standing by herself near a tree. "There is trouble, indeed," he said. "Don Manuel now wishes to marry the senorita himself, and this Don Diego does not want. For if she marries Don Manuel she is out of his hands, and he will get nothing more from her. If she marries this man to whom they take her, both have a hold upon him."
"And she is but a pawn in their games?"
"A very pretty pawn, Captain, with millions at stake."
"Millions?"
He shrugged. "If the story is true. I believe but a part of it, myself. The point isthey believe it, or enough to gamble upon it, and there is much at stake."
"And you?"
"A chance bystander, who knows more than either of them but has no chance of making a penny from it. Nor would I try." He smiled wryly. "Captain, to be an honest man is not easy, but I fear that that is what I am. It is an affliction of mine that tries me sorely. Yet ... what can a man do? I want only
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