"
The Brazilian, who seemed to have argued himself into a state of stoic
despair, gave a startling answer.
"We have a boat, a sort of boat," he said quietly.
"How many will it hold?"
"Three, in a smooth sea, and with skilled handling. It nearly
overturned when I and two others crossed from the island, a distance of
three hundred yards."
"But we have ropes, clothes, perhaps some few pieces of wreckage. Can
nothing be done to repair it?"
"Meaning that we draw lots to see who shall endeavor to escape
to-night?"
"The men might even do that."
"Ah, yes--the men, of course. I think it hopeless. But, try it! Yes,
certainly, try it!"
A pause, more eloquent than the most impassioned speech, showed how
this frail straw, eddying in the vortex of their fate, might yet be
clutched at. San Benavides, trying vainly to guess what was being
said, blurted forth an anxious inquiry. His compatriot explained
briefly. Somehow, the measured cadence of their talk had a less
reliable sound than the vigorous Anglo-Saxon. They were both brave
men. They had not scrupled to risk their lives in an enterprise where
success beckoned even doubtingly. But they were lacking when all that
remained to be settled was how best to die; in such an hour the men of
an English speaking race will ever choose a fighting death.
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