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Updated: September 13, 2025
This expedition was placed under the command of Don Diego d'Azumbuja, an experienced officer, under whom were the following naval captains, Gonçalez da Fonseca, Ruy d'Oliveira, Juan Rodrigues Gante, Juan Alfonso, Diego Rodrigues Inglez, Bartholomew Diaz, Pedro d'Evora, and Gomez Aires.
A solitary black, the only guard left at the gate, shouted at them, "Arria! Go back!" It had no effect. More of them crowded in, though, of course, the greater part of that mob remained outside. The black rolled big eyes. He could not stop them; he did not like to leave his post; he dared not fire. "Go back! Go back!" he repeated. "Not without the Inglez," they answered.
Manuel had descended the cornice. He was alone. Standing before the outer opening, he darkened the passage, through which his talk to the people above came loudly into my ears. They could see now if he were not a worthy Capataz. If the Inglez was in there he was a corpse.
It looked as if they would have retired if they had not caught sight of me. A murmur of "the Inglez" arose at once. By that time the household negroes had occupied the staircase with what weapons they could find upstairs. Father Antonio pushed past O'Brien out of the room, and shook his arms over the balustrade. "Impious men," he cried, "begone from this house of death."
They shall pass on, for none of them died on the shore all in the water. Yes, all in the water." I suppose the man was trying to reassure himself and his companions. His meaning, no doubt, was that, being on shore, they were safe from the ghosts of those Inglez who had never achieved a landing.
I shall say, 'Domingo let him go but he is dead. Think of him no more of that Inglez who escaped from Domingo. Do not look for him. I, your own Manuel, have killed him. Give me my life for yours, Señor. I shall swear I had killed you with this right hand! Ah!"
"If the Inglez is down there, and if he is alive, he is listening to us now." He was as certain as though he had been able to see me. He added: "But there's no one." "Go and look, Manuel," they cried. He said something in a tone of contempt. The Voices above my head sank into busy murmurs. "Give me the rope here," he said aloud.
"And what about finding out whether the Inglez was there, dead or alive?" asked some. I was sure, now, that they would not come down in a body. It would expose them to the danger of being caught in the cavern by the peons. There was no time for a thorough search, they argued. For the first time that morning I heard Manuel's voice, "Stand aside." He came down to the very brink.
And, instead of howls, I heard, before the boat had travelled its own short length, a voice that seemed to be the voice of fear itself asking, "Did you hear that?" and a trembling mutter of an invocation to all the saints. Then a strangled throat trying to pronounce firmly, "The souls of the dead Inglez. Crying from pain."
The seamen formed a wide ring, and, looking at me, he talked to himself confidentially. "Escaped the Inglez! Then thou art doomed, Domingo. Domingo, thou art doomed. Dom... Señor!" The change of tone, his effort to extend his hands towards me, surprised us all. I looked away. "Hold hard! Hold him, mate!" "Señor, condescend to behold my downfall. I am led here to the slaughter, Señor!
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