But, ere the Spaniard turned to go, a disturbing thought forced its way
to his lips.
"We have every confidence in you," he said, "and I admit that it should
be a simple matter to prevent the savages from gaining the upper hand.
Yet, accidents happen. Suppose they manage to rush your defense?"
"They will not do that while I and every other man on deck are alive.
If the worst comes to the worst, you have a revolver--"
"Yes," said Christobal.
"It will suffice for two, but not for a hundred." The two men, united
by the very bond which threatened to bring them into antagonism, looked
into each other's eyes.
"Is that your last word?" asked Christobal.
"It is."
"I feel sure that you are right. Good-by!"
They shook hands. They were nearer a real friendship then than either
of them thought possible, and the bond which held them was love for the
same woman.
Courtenay, using his glasses again, saw that a number of Indians were
launching the canoes simultaneously. He counted nine small craft, each
holding five or six men, or men and women--at the distance, nearly
three miles, he could not be certain whether or not they all wore the
distinguishing head-dress of feathers.
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