UNEXPECTED LOYALTY.
The astonishment of all three of the prisoners was overwhelming. Ysabel
Sixty, the daughter of Captain Jim Sixty, the captured filibuster,
there aboard the _Grampus!_ She was so artfully disguised, too, that
the prisoners would never have recognized her had she not taken the
pains to reveal her identity.
Ysabel set the basket down on the floor.
“Fingal and all the others, except Don Carlos, are eating,” said she,
in a low voice. “The don has gone ashore to hunt for revolutionists. My
uncle made me get the meal for him and his men, and then sent me here
with something for you.”
“You are still a friend of ours, Ysabel?” whispered Bob.
“Always!” the girl breathed.
“Does your uncle, Abner Fingal, know that?”
“Of course not! Why, he doesn’t even know I am Ysabel Sixty!” She gave
a low, sibilant laugh. “I have fooled him as well as the others.”
It hardly seemed possible that the girl could hide her identity from
her uncle simply by donning male attire; and yet she looked vastly
different in boy’s clothes.
“I’ll not be able to stay here long,” proceeded Ysabel, “so you had
better let me do most of the talking. The _North Star_, Abner Fingal’s
schooner, lay off Belize part of the day, yesterday. She had been
repainted, renamed, and was flying the Cuban flag. No one recognized
her as a filibuster’s boat. Fingal came ashore and had a talk with Don
Carlos, and together they plotted to capture the submarine. And I also
plotted,” said the girl. “That’s how I happen to be here now.”
“But how did you learn about the plot?” queried Bob breathlessly, “and
how did you manage it?”
“You remember my old friend, Pedro? The man who used to sail on my
father’s ship, the _Dolphin?_”
Bob nodded.
“Well, as it chanced, Pedro came north on the schooner with Abner
Fingal. My uncle values Pedro highly because he was with my father on
the brig, and it was from him that Pedro learned that the object of
the schooner in going to Belize was to capture the submarine. Pedro
was sent ashore at Belize to find four or five white men to help out
the plot. He picked up three, and those were all he could get who,
according to his ideas, were trustworthy. He called at the house in the
evening, just before the schooner was to sail, and talked with me.
“When I learned that Fingal was trying to capture the submarine, and
that Don Carlos was planning to help, I was wild to get word to you,
and warn you. But this was impossible. You were not at the hotel, Pedro
said, and the doctor would not admit any one to talk with Captain Nemo,
junior. I would have gone to the American consul, but Pedro would not
let me. He said that if I did such a thing I would get everybody into
trouble, himself as well as my uncle. I cared little about Fingal, but
I did care a good deal about Pedro. He has always been a true friend,
and a great help, to me. If I couldn’t warn you, Bob, I made up my mind
that I would sail with the schooner and do what I could to aid you in
case Don Carlos’ snare proved successful.
“Pedro tried to argue me out of that, but I insisted. At last he went
to a junk shop in town and bought a suit of boy’s clothes for me, and
this stocking cap; then he cut off my hair”--the girl shook her head
and set the short locks flying--“and I was soon changed into Manuel
Ybarra, a small brother of Pedro’s. We went out to the schooner in the
evening. Fingal was already aboard and waiting for us. After that we
sailed south, and, in the first gray of morning, we hove to, and Fingal
himself climbed to the masthead with a glass. He watched carefully
along our back track, and when he came sliding down to the deck he said
loudly, so all could hear, that Don Carlos had succeeded in luring the
submarine away from Belize, and that now we must carry out our part of
the program.
“Pedro and three other men were lined up on the deck, and each was
given a revolver; then a small boat was put over and the four men got
into the boat. Just as they were about to cast off, I jumped in.
“Fingal swore and ordered me back, but Pedro begged so hard for his
‘little brother’ that I was allowed to stay. As soon as we had cast off
from her side, the schooner bore away with all sail set; then our boat
was rowed off over the water and the oars were tossed into the sea.
“‘We’re shipwrecked sailors,’ said Fingal, with a laugh. ‘Play the
part, every man of you! The submarine will pick us up, an’ then we’ll
capture her.’
“My heart turned sick at that, for not until then did I understand
what the plan was. I hoped that you would not see us and pick us up;
but then, Don Carlos was on the submarine, and it was certain that he
would be on the watch for us. You know what happened after that. Didn’t
you see me motioning to you to keep away when you were in the conning
tower?”
“I saw you motioning, Ysabel,” said Bob, “but hadn’t the least idea
what you meant. You were well disguised, and that stocking cap is just
the thing. But be careful! If Abner Fingal should discover who you
really are----”
“He won’t,” she answered. “Pedro is looking after me. I am supposed to
be his brother, you know.”
“Do you think you can help us recapture the _Grampus?_”
“That’s what I want to do.”
“Will Pedro help you?”
She was doubtful.
“Pedro won’t do anything to get me into trouble, but whether he would
help or not I don’t know. You see, Bob, Pedro thought a lot of my
father, and he doesn’t feel very kindly toward you and your friends.
With me it’s different. My father was never good to me, but was always
beating me and forcing me to tell lies to help out his plans. But,” she
added, catching herself up, “we must only talk about important things.
Pedro is on guard at the door, eating his meal with a revolver on his
knee. He will let me stay in here as long as I like, but if Fingal
should suspect anything----”
The girl winced and shrugged her shoulders.
“You’d better go now, Ysabel,” said Bob. “If Fingal happened to find
out who you are, at this time, it would be impossible for you to do
anything for us.”
“I’d better tell you all I can, that’s of importance, while I’m here,”
insisted the girl, pulling her cap down over her ears. “I may not have
so good a chance as this again.”
“Where are we, Ysabel?” put in Dick.
“Tied up to an old landing, halfway between the mouth of the Izaral and
the place where the Purgatoire flows into the stream.”
“Are there any soldiers near here?”
“There are, unless General Pitou has captured the fort. If the rebels
have won that, then they’re probably all down at the mouth of the
river.”
“Where’s General Mendez?”
“Somewhere near the Purgatoire. He’s coming down the river as fast as
he can, hoping to fight with the rebels before they can get to the
fort.”
“Why did Don Carlos go ashore?”
“To find General Pitou. If the general thinks it safe, he may come back
with Don Carlos.”
“When does Don Carlos expect to get back here?” put in Bob.
“That depends on how far away the rebels are. He may return soon, and
he may not return until nearly night.”
“About what time is it?”
“Nearly noon. Tell me, Bob, how you think I can help you! I’m not
nearly so clever as you are, and you might be able to think of
something I could do.”
Bob was thoughtful for a moment.
“Where are Gaines and Clackett?” he asked at last.
“They are shut up in the torpedo room. Fingal intends to keep them shut
up all the time they are not needed for running the boat.”
“By George!” exclaimed Bob.
“What now?” whispered Dick.
“Why, if necessary, one of those fellows could shoot the other out
through the torpedo tube! I got out that way once, you remember, in
Atlantic City, and the _Grampus_ was submerged, at that. Here she’s on
the surface, and the mouth of the tube isn’t more than two feet under
water!”
“What good would it do for one o’ them fellers to be shot out of the
boat?” queried Speake. “He’d only find himself in the hands of those
outside.”
“Well, Speake, if we got a chance to leave here and run the
revolutionists off the boat, one of the men from the torpedo room would
prove a big help to us. With Don Carlos gone, there are only Fingal,
Pedro, and two more against us--and perhaps Ysabel could keep Pedro
from taking a very active part in the fighting.”
“But there are the guns--consarn ’em!” growled Dick. “What could we do
against four, or even three, armed men? They could riddle us before we
got close enough to use our fists.”
“If I could take the cartridges out of the revolvers,” said Ysabel,
“wouldn’t that help?”
“How could you do that?” queried Bob eagerly. “Aren’t the weapons in
the men’s pockets?”
“There were only four revolvers,” went on the girl, “and one of the men
gave his to Don Carlos. That leaves only three on the boat. Pedro has
one, Fingal has one, and one of the other men has one. If I----”
Just at this point the door opened and the swarthy face of Pedro was
thrust in.
“_Mujercita!_” he called softly.
The girl, with one last, quick look at Bob, hastened from the room. The
door was closed and locked, and the prisoners could hear the hoarse
voice of Fingal rumbling through the periscope room. Bob glided to the
door and listened. A moment later he drew a long breath of relief and
turned away.
“I was afraid he might discover her,” said he, “but he only came down
to borrow some tobacco of Pedro.”
“About all we can do is to wait,” murmured Speake.
“That’s all,” said Dick; “wait for something to happen and hope for the
best.”
“And let’s not forget, while we’re waiting,” added Bob, “that we’ve
got one loyal friend among our captors--and she’s as brave as she is
loyal.”