"Oh, pray don't say any more to me about it, sir," cried Fitz, the next
day. "It was only just an idea."
"An idea, my dear young friend!" cried the President.
"Yes, sir; a mere trifle."
"A trifle!" said the President. "Oh, how lightly you English boys do
take such things. Your trifle, as you call it, has made me fast in the
Governmental chair. I shall always think that I owe you my success."
"What, because I thought there was another breech-block, sir?"
"Oh, not merely that. There was your first idea about getting away from
the hacienda and coming round here by sea. They may seem trifles to
your young elastic spirit, but their effect has been great."
"Once more, sir; please don't say any more. My only wonder is now, that
somebody else on board the gunboat did not think about the spare block
and get it into use."
"Ah, yes; one of the officers has been talking to me about it. He said
he was the only man on board who knew of its existence, and--simply
because it had not been wanted--he had almost forgotten, or, as he put
it, it was for the time driven out of his head by the great trouble they
were in, caused by the fouling of the screw, and the current carrying
them on to the rocks."
"Oh, I am glad of that," said Fitz. "Glad? Why?" said the President,
looking at him wonderingly.
"Because it makes Poole Reed stand out so much better than I do. It was
entirely his notion to foul the screw."
"Oh, come, come, come!" cried Don Ramon. "I am not going to weigh you
both in the balance to see which was the better. I shall always look
upon you as a pair of young heroes."
"Oh, I say," cried Poole, "please don't!"
"Very well," said the Spaniard, laughing; "I'll say no more, but I shall
think."
"I don't mind his thinking," said Fitz, a short time later when he was
talking to his companion about what had been said. "But I hope next
time he wants to go into ecstasies about what we did, he'll let them all
off at you."
"Thankye," said Poole; "much obliged." The lads had something else to
think of the next day, for in the midst of the rejoicings over Don
Ramon's success, and when the gunboat was dressed with colours from head
to stern, the new President's flag predominant, and her old officers
accepting the alteration in the state of affairs with the greatest
nonchalance, and in fact on the whole pleased with the change of rulers,
signals were shown from the high look-out at the entrance of the harbour
indicating that a vessel was in sight. In the midst of the excitement
that this caused, steam was hastily got up on board the gunboat, and the
decks cleared for action ready for an engagement if necessary in Don
Ramon's cause.
The excitement soon ceased to be alarming, for in due course the
stranger's flag was made out, her signal for a pilot answered, and in
the course of the afternoon a United States cruiser steamed in,
answering the salute from the fort and gunboat, and taking up her
position close under their guns.
The rest of the customary civilities were interchanged, and the captain
of the Yankee came ashore to visit the new President, laughingly saying
that he had come to see Don Villarayo, but as he was in the mountains
and a new President governed in his stead, and as he supposed it was
only a matter of form before Don Ramon would be acknowledged by the
American Government, he had nothing to do but wait for instructions
after he had communicated with Washington.
The captain made himself very agreeable, chatting with Don Ramon's
notabilities, and the schooner's skipper; but several times he glanced
searchingly in the direction of Fitz Burnett, who had been awaiting his
opportunity either to be introduced or to go up and speak.
His turn came at last, for the captain fixed his eyes upon him with a
look of invitation to which Fitz instantly responded by closing up,
colouring slightly the while with consciousness, as it seemed to him
that the American captain, all spick and span in his neat naval uniform,
was looking askant at the well-worn garments the lad was wearing.
"How do, youngster?" he said. "I didn't know one of your cruisers was
in these waters. Has she left you here as a hostage, or something of
the kind? You English chaps are everywhere."
For long enough Fitz Burnett had been waiting for this moment, ready to
pour out his troubles and adventures to somebody who would give him
help; and now that the time had come he could hardly speak.
The American captain noticed it, and raised his eyebrows a little.
"Why was it?" he said kindly, as he saw how thoroughly agitated the boy
was. "In trouble?"
"Yes, sir," cried Fitz.
"You don't mean to tell me you've done such a stupid school-boy act as
to desert your ship?"
"Oh, no, no, no!" cried Fitz excitedly; and out it all came, the captain
listening eagerly and questioning him wherever the boy hesitated, till
he had finished his adventurous tale.
"Well, this is something fresh, my lad," cried the American captain.
"But I reckon that the time will come when you'll think you've been in
luck. For you've done nothing wrong. You were regularly taken prisoner
while doing your duty, and your skipper can't blame you."
"Think not, sir?" cried Fitz, warming up in the gratitude he felt for
the captain's sympathy.
"Think not? Of course! If he does, and won't have you back, I'll find
you a berth on my ship, and be glad to have you. What do you say? Will
you come?"
Fitz looked at him searchingly, and shook his head.
"I am in the Queen's service, sir," he said.
"And a fine service too, my lad. But how has this skipper behaved to
you since you've been with him?"
"Oh, as if I had been his own son, sir," cried Fitz warmly; "and his boy
and I have been the best of friends."
"But I say, you've been a regular young filibuster all the time,
breaking the laws and helping in a revolution. Why, you've been
carrying on high jinks, and no mistake! But you don't mean to tell me
you want to stay with them?"
"Oh no, of course not. I want to rejoin the _Tonans_."
"Where do you say--in the Channel Service? Well, I can't take you
there."
"I thought, sir, that perhaps you would put me on board some English
cruiser," cried Fitz.
"And I will, of course. But it may be a month first."
"I don't mind that, sir," said Fitz, "so long as I can send a message
home, for they must think I'm--"
He broke down here, for he could bear no more.
What he had thought would be all joy proved to be pain, and as he was
turning away, it was with the knowledge that the American captain had
read him through and through, giving him a warm pressure of the hand,
and saying, just loud enough for him to hear--
"Directly I can get at the wires I'll send a message to New York,
telling our people to communicate with your Admiralty, that you are
alive and well."
The next minute the captain was talking with both the Reeds, and to
Fitz's great satisfaction he saw that they were chatting, evidently on
the most friendly terms.
As the American captain had suggested, it was nearly a month before he
sailed away with Fitz on board, after a parting that made the hearts of
the two lads ache, while the pressure of the skipper's hand lingered
long.
But after the fashion of most boys under such circumstances they hid
their emotions like men.
"I suppose," said the skipper, "I shall never have the chance to give
you such a cruise again."
"No," said Fitz, laughing; "never, I should say. Good-bye, sir!
Good-bye, Poole, old chap, till next time."
"Yes," said Poole merrily. "So long!"