Even as he watched her she altered her course, and going about came
heading towards them, close-hauled.
A dozen of his fellows were astir on the forecastle, looking
eagerly ahead, and the sound of their voices and laughter reached
him across the length of the stately Cinco Llagas.
"There," said a soft voice behind him in liquid Spanish, "is the
Promised Land, Don Pedro."
It was something in that voice, a muffled note of exultation, that
awoke suspicion in him, and made whole the half-doubt he had been
entertaining. He turned sharply to face Don Diego, so sharply that
the sly smile was not effaced from the Spaniard's countenance
before Captain Blood's eyes had flashed upon it.
"You find an odd satisfaction in the sight of it - all things
considered," said Mr. Blood.
"Of course." The Spaniard rubbed his hands, and Mr. Blood observed
that they were unsteady. "The satisfaction of a mariner."
"Or of a traitor - which?" Blood asked him quietly. And as the
Spaniard fell back before him with suddenly altered countenance
that confirmed his every suspicion, he flung an arm out in the
direction of the distant shore.
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