life," answered Oliver, and winked at me behind the captain's back.
"No, no! He will go back!" whined the master of the Viscount. "He must go back! Hi, Larvello, you wretch; listen to me!" he shouted.
Again the mate appeared, with Sam Gumbert at his side. He wanted to argue, to threaten, but it was all to no purpose. At last he went away, and slowly the course of the Viscount was changed, until she was heading back into Hilo Bay.
We felt that we had gained our point, but the end of the contest was not yet reached. The Spaniards on deck would try to get their captain from us, and if they accomplished this, the jig would be up, so far as our welfare was concerned.
"I think we can trust that Gumbert," I said. "Especially if we promise him his clearance at Hilo and a few dollars besides."
"Yes, I am sure we can trust him. He is evidently mad that he ever got into such a nest of garlic-eaters," answered my chum. "But he can't do much against eight enemies."
"With Gumbert we are three to eight—and we carry the balance of power so long as the captain is our prisoner."
"They may try some desperate game."
"What can they do? They can't starve us to death."
