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The old fellow owns a volandra in which he brings charcoal from the eastward twice a month." There was a moment of silence; then O'Reilly said, slowly, as if hesitating even to voice such a suggestion, "You mean he might take us out of here on his schooner?" "Who knows? He's not a bad old fellow and he likes me. But there would be no place for women." "How well does he like you?"
My friend in the fish-market has a volandra, and perhaps I can rob him of a halyard." Laying aside his task, Jacket arose and made off in the direction of the water-front. He was back within an hour, and under his shirt he carried a coil of worn, but serviceable, rope. Without waiting to explain his need for this unusual article, O'Reilly linked arms with the boy and set out to climb La Cumbre.
"I? In Heaven's name, how?" "By taking us away in your charcoal-schooner." "You're mad!" Morin cast another apprehensive look over his shoulder. "I'm a poor man. All I have is my two boats, the vivero, which brings fish, and the volandra, which sails with charcoal. Do you think I'd forfeit them and my life for strangers?" "There wouldn't be much risk." "Indeed?
Will you look? ... No? ... Then a cup of coffee perhaps?" O'Reilly peeped through a dirt-stained cabin window and saw that the volandra was slipping past the stern of the ironclad, so he withdrew his head quickly. In spite of his hospitable invitation, Captain Morin made no move to come about, but instead held his schooner on its course, meanwhile exchanging shouts with the unseen speaker.
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