“Death of my life, what have you to say now?” he cried, his voice husky.  And without waiting to hear what it might be, he raved on:  “I knew you not frighten the Admiral so easy.  He hold us entrap’, and he knows it; yet you dream that he will yield himself to your impudent message.  Your fool letter it have seal’ the doom of us all.”

“Have ye done?” quoth Blood quietly, as the Frenchman paused for breath.

“No, I have not.”

“Then spare me the rest.  It’ll be of the same quality, devil a doubt, and it doesn’t help us to solve the riddle that’s before us.”

“But what are you going to do?  Is it that you will tell me?” It was not a question, it was a demand.

“How the devil do I know?  I was hoping you’d have some ideas yourself.  But since Ye’re so desperately concerned to save your skin, you and those that think like you are welcome to leave us.  I’ve no doubt at all the Spanish Admiral will welcome the abatement of our numbers even at this late date.  Ye shall have the sloop as a parting gift from us, and ye can join Don Miguel in the fort for all I care, or for all the good ye’re likely to be to us in this present pass.”

“It is to my men to decide,” Cahusac retorted, swallowing his fury, and on that stalked out to talk to them, leaving the others to deliberate in peace.

Next morning early he sought Captain Blood again.  He found him alone in the patio, pacing to and fro, his head sunk on his breast.  Cahusac mistook consideration for dejection.  Each of us carries in himself a standard by which to measure his neighbour.

“We have take’ you at your word, Captain,” he announced, between sullenness and defiance.  Captain Blood paused, shoulders hunched, hands behind his back, and mildly regarded the buccaneer in silence.  Cahusac explained himself.  “Last night I send one of my men to the Spanish Admiral with a letter.  I make him offer to capitulate if he will accord us passage with the honours of war.  This morning I receive his answer.  He accord us this on the understanding that we carry nothing away with us.  My men they are embarking them on the sloop.  We sail at once.”

“Bon voyage,” said Captain Blood, and with a nod he turned on his heel again to resume his interrupted mediation.

“Is that all that you have to say to me?” cried Cahusac.

“There are other things,” said Blood over his shoulder.  “But I know ye wouldn’t like them.”

“Ha!  Then it’s adieu, my Captain.”  Venomously he added:  “It is my belief that we shall not meet again.”

“Your belief is my hope,” said Captain Blood.

Cahusac flung away, obscenely vituperative.  Before noon he was under way with his followers, some sixty dejected men who had allowed themselves to be persuaded by him into that empty-handed departure — in spite even of all that Yberville could do to prevent it.  The Admiral kept faith with him, and allowed him free passage out to sea, which, from his knowledge of Spaniards, was more than Captain Blood had expected.