Betagh's version of the incident is somewhat otherwise: "On June 5th, 1719, we met a Portuguese merchantman near Cape Frio. Our captain ordered the Emperor's colours to be hoisted, which, without any reflection, look the most thief-like of any worn by honest men; those of his Imperial Majesty are a black spread-eagle in a yellow field, and those of the pirates a yellow field and black human skeleton; which at a small distance are not easily distinguished, especially in light gales of wind. So he brings her to, by firing a musket thwart her forefoot, sends aboard her the best busker (as he himself called Hatley), with a boat's crew; each man armed with a cutlass and a case of pistols. The Portuguese not only imagines his ship made prize, but thinks also how he shall undergo that piece of discipline used by the merry blades in the West Indies, called blooding and sweating.... So Don Pedro, to save his bacon, took care to be very officious or yare-handed (as we say), with his present. For no sooner was Hatley on his quarter-deck but the Portuguese seamen began to hand into the boat the fruits and refreshments they had on board, as plantains, bananas, lemons, oranges, pomegranates, etc., three or four dozen boxes of marmalade and other sweetmeats, some Dutch cheeses, and a large quantity of sugars. If they had stopped here it was well enough, and might pass as a present; but after this there came above a dozen pieces of silk, several of which were flowered with gold and silver, worth at least three pounds a yard, by retail; several dozen of china plates and basins, a small Japan cabinet, not to mention what the men took.... Among other things, Hatley brought the last and handsomest present of all, a purse of 300 moidores. This convinced Shelvocke he was not deceived in calling Hatley the best busker; that is, an impudent sharp fellow, who, perhaps to reingratiate himself, did the devil's work, by whose laudable example our boat's crew robbed the man of more than I can pretend to say; but I remember the boat was pretty well laden with one trade or another, and none of the officers dared so much as peep into her till all was out. While these things were handing into the ship a sham kind of quarrel ensues between our chieftains." Betagh's view is corroborated by the fact that, when Shelvocke returned to England, he was arraigned on a charge of piracy for this very incident. Dawdling down the coast, they spent nearly two months at St. Catherine's Island, Brazil, where there was a great deal of trouble with the crew, who drew up new articles for the regulation of the distribution of spoil, which Shelvocke found himself eventually compelled to sign, having previously, according to his own account, quelled a mutiny with the assistance of M. de la Jonquière, the captain of a French-manned ship which had been employed under Spanish colours--the whole of which is a most improbable, nay, incredible story, and is ridiculed by Betagh.