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Whatever his antecedents, he had
proved his quality when he announced himself ready to die sooner
than enter into any undertaking that could hurt his honour or his
country.
New to the seas of the Spanish Main and to the ways of the
adventurers who sailed it, Captain Blood still entertained
illusions. But the next dawn was to shatter them rudely and for
ever.
Coming on deck before the sun was up, he saw land ahead, as the
Spaniard had promised them last night. Some ten miles ahead it lay,
a long coast-line filling the horizon east and west, with a massive
headland jutting forward straight before them. Staring at it, he
frowned. He had not conceived that Curacao was of such considerable
dimensions. Indeed, this looked less like an island than the main
itself.
Beating out aweather, against the gentle landward breeze he beheld
a great ship on their starboard bow, that he conceived to be some
three or four miles off, and - as well as he could judge her at
that distance - of a tonnage equal if not superior to their own.


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