But Henry, turning to tell them of the smudge of smoke he had discovered on the horizon, had inadvertently seen. And the n***o-Indian captain had seen him see. So the captain lurched close to him, the cruelty of the Indian dictating the impudence of the n***o, as he said in a low voice:
“ Ah, be not downcast, sir. The senorita is generously hearted. There is room for both you gallant gentlemen in her heart.”
And the next fraction of a second he learned the inevitable and invariable lesson that white men must have their privacy of intimate things; for he lay on his back, the back of his head sore from contact with the deck, the front of his head, between the eyes, sore from contact with the knuckles of Henry Morgan’s right hand.
But the Indian in the skipper was up and raging as he spra
