The night which Hawley and Virginia had selected for their assault
upon El Torro proved an ideal one for their purpose; for the moon was
obscured most of the time by a steady procession of dark clouds which
made the waters of the harbor as black as ink, save for an occasional
phosphorescent streak on the surface of the wavelets, the sight of
which made the girl shudder.
“I’m afraid there are many sharks in the bay to-night,” she whispered
fearfully to the Camera Chap, as he cast loose the painter of the
launch, and took the oars--they had decided to row at the start,
instead of using the motor, for fear that the noise of the latter might
attract attention on shore.
“I guess it’s only your imagination which makes you think that, Miss
Throgmorton,” Hawley responded cheerfully. “Of course,” he added
solicitously, “if you’re really alarmed, we’ll turn back this minute;
but there’s no danger so far as the sharks are concerned. They won’t
come near the boat.”
Virginia gave him an indignant glance. “Of course, I know that they
won’t come near the boat,” she said. “Do you suppose that I am scared
on my own account? It was to your danger that I was referring. I really
don’t think that I have any right to let you do this thing, Mr. Hawley.
Much as I would like to see poor President Felix freed, and my dear
friend the señora made happy, it scarcely seems fair to encourage you
to run such a terrible risk. To think of you attempting to swim in that
water makes my blood run cold.”
“Then I beg you not to think of it,” he said laughingly. “Turn your
attention to the sky instead. Did you ever see such a black night? I
haven’t, since I’ve been in Baracoa. It certainly looks as if we’ve got
our luck with us. I haven’t much doubt, now, that I’ll be able to get
up to the fortress unobserved.”
All the while he was talking, he was rowing, his strong arms pulling
at the oars so vigorously that the motor boat moved through the water
almost as easily as if it had been built to be propelled in that
manner. But presently he stopped rowing, and shipped his oars. “Guess
we can start the motor, now,” he remarked; “we’re far enough from the
shore to escape attention. See those lights twinkling over yonder?
That’s the _Kearsarge_. And those two little lights to the east of her
are on El Torro. Notice how near to the fortress she is anchored. You
see, I shan’t have much of a swim, after all.”
Virginia smiled at him reproachfully. “Do you think I am as easily
deceived as all that? Those lights may not look far apart, from here,
but I happen to know that the distance between the battleship and the
fortress is nearly half a mile. However, Mr. Hawley, I’m not going to
try to persuade you to give up this mad undertaking, because I realize
that I stand no chance of making you listen to reason.” She sighed.
“It does seem unfair, though, that you should be running all the risk,
while I----”
“All the risk!” Hawley interrupted protestingly. “Well, I like that! I
suppose you’re not running any risk at all? Why, you plucky girl!” he
exclaimed, deep admiration in his tone. “As a matter of fact, you’re
doing the lion’s share of the work. If our efforts to-night result in
setting President Felix free, he’ll have you to thank for it more than
anybody.”
“Nonsense!” the girl protested, much pleased, nevertheless, by his
praise. “You know very well that I shan’t be in the slightest danger.
Portiforo can’t do anything to me, even when he finds out the trick
I’ve played his soldiers. If you thought that he could, you would never
have taken me as your assistant. Don’t you suppose that I realize that?”
“But it’s going to get you into trouble with your father,” Hawley
reminded her dryly. “I don’t imagine that Minister Throgmorton
is going to be exactly pleased when he hears of his daughter’s
escapade--especially when he finds out that her fellow conspirator is a
_Sentinel_ man.”
“Yes; I suppose my father will be angry,” Virginia agreed demurely.
“However, that can’t be helped. I never have been able to understand
his great friendship for Portiforo,” she went on, frowning. “It is
a mystery to me why he is so persistently blind to the grossness of
that tyrant. Possibly,” she suggested archly, “it is because Portiforo
flatters him. Father is very susceptible to flattery.”
“Probably that is the reason,” the Camera Chap acquiesced. “Think
you’ll be able to manage this boat all right after I leave you?” he
inquired anxiously. “She runs very smoothly, and all you’ve got to do,
you know, is to keep her headed straight for the fortress landing.
“That will be easy,” she assured him. “Fortunately I’ve had some
experience with motor boats.”
“And you haven’t forgotten your instructions? You know just what you
are to do after you land? Remember, everything depends upon your
ability to keep the attention of the sentry focused on you until after
I’ve got my picture.”
“Don’t worry about that,” said Virginia confidently. “He’ll have to
be an automaton if he’s able to turn a deaf ear to my heart-rending
screams of distress.”
Hawley, busy with the motor, echoed her laugh. A little later the
launch, running now under its own power, had drawn so near to the
_Kearsarge_ that they could hear her bells striking the hour. The
Camera Chap abruptly changed their course. “We don’t want to get any
nearer to the warship,” he explained to his companion. “They might take
it into their heads, you know, to throw a searchlight on us, and just
at present we’re not at all eager to bask in the limelight.”
Virginia gazed wistfully at the shadowy outline of the big vessel.
“If only we could get them to help us,” she murmured. “With a hundred
sturdy bluejackets from that ship, we could take the fortress and bring
back President Felix himself, instead of merely his photograph.”
“A hundred!” exclaimed Hawley, with a laugh. “I venture to say that
half a dozen would be enough. But I’m afraid that’s out of the
question. For the present I guess we’ll have to be content with the
picture.”
“If we get it,” said the girl, in a sudden fit of depression.
“We’re going to get it,” the Camera Chap declared confidently.
The motor boat was heading, now, straight for the fortress. Presently
Hawley slackened her speed and motioned to Virginia to take his place
at the wheel. “I guess the psychological moment has arrived,” he
announced. “We won’t risk going any nearer.” He took off his coat and
shoes, and threw them overboard. Then he fastened around his waist
a belt to which was attached a water-tight bag, which contained his
photographic apparatus.
“Au revoir,” he said lightly, extending his hand to the girl. “Sure you
don’t feel scared?”
“Not a bit--at least, not on my own account,” she answered, pressing
his hand with a warmth which in his opinion more than compensated him
for any risk he was about to run. “Please be careful, Mr. Hawley. If
anything should happen to you----”
“Nothing will,” he assured her. “Nothing ever happens to me. I guess I
was born under a lucky star.”
The moon had emerged from behind a black cloud, and he ducked hastily
to the bottom of the boat, fearing that he would be seen from the
fortress. For half a minute he remained there; then, as another
fleeting cloud once more plunged the sky in darkness, he left his
hiding place and poised himself on the boat’s gunwale.
“Try to manage to make a wide sweep so as to give me a chance to reach
the shore about the same time you do,” he said to Virginia.
The girl nodded. “But I don’t like to see you venture among those
horrid----” she began. Before she could finish the sentence, the Camera
Chap had dived, entering the water so easily that she could scarcely
hear the splash.
As he struck out for the shore, Virginia saw a phosphorescent streak in
the water close beside him, and she uttered a scream of terror which
was not prompted by her realization of the part she was to play.
A lone sentry at El Torro heard that scream, and, ceasing his pacing up
and down his post, gazed out to sea with great curiosity.
Above the sound of the waves lapping the shore, he could hear the
chug-chug-chug of a motor boat, first faint, then rapidly becoming
more distinct. Realizing that a craft of some sort was approaching the
fortress, he brought his rifle down from his shoulder to a horizontal
position, and stood prepared to challenge the unseen visitor.
Then, suddenly, there came to his ears a repetition of the weird scream
he had heard, followed by a series of screams in quick succession. The
moon appeared from behind a cloud, and by its light he caught sight of
a launch heading toward a point of the beach about two hundred feet to
the east of where he stood. Simultaneously he became aware of the fact
that the sole visible occupant of the boat was a woman, and that it
was she who was responsible for the cries of terror or distress he had
heard.
Now, fortunately for the Camera Chap and Virginia, and the righteous
cause for which they strove, there was not in the whole army of Baracoa
a more chivalrous man than this particular sentry. Naturally a man cast
in such a sentimental mold was not the sort to turn a deaf ear to the
call of beauty in distress. From where he stood he could not as yet see
that the woman in the motor boat was beautiful, but he took that for
granted.
Clubbing his rifle, he ran along the beach to the point where the
launch was about to land. As he came near, he saw that he would not
have to draw upon his imagination in order to class the craft’s
agitated occupant as young and very fair. With added zest he hastened
to assist her to disembark.
“What is it, señorita?” he demanded sympathetically. “If you will tell
me what has happened----”
“Oh!” gasped Virginia, stumbling out of the boat and into his arms,
according to schedule. “Oh, it was terrible. I----” Her eyes closed,
and she would have fallen if he had not held her.
According to the rules and regulations, it was his duty to summon the
guard, but he was too busy just then to give thought to rules and
regulations. He was struggling with the dead weight of the girl, who
had become as limp and inanimate as a rag, when a tall, dark-faced
young man, who wore the fatigue uniform of a captain, ran out of the
fortress and approached the pair.
“What have we here?” he demanded sternly. Then, as his gaze rested on
the girl’s face: “Good heavens! It’s Miss Throgmorton! What is the
matter with her, Sanchez?”
“I think she has fainted, captain,” the sentry replied, allowing his
fair burden to drop gently to the sand in order that he might salute
his superior officer. He pointed to the motor boat. “She came ashore in
that, a minute ago.”
“Alone?”
The sentry nodded. “She was screaming as though in great terror.”
“It is strange--very strange,” muttered Captain Ernesto Reyes. “I
wonder if----”
He was interrupted by a dull report and a vivid flash of light which
came from the beach, about four hundred feet from where they stood.
The sentry and his superior officer exchanged glances of mingled
mystification and dismay. Leaving the girl, both of them started to run
frantically toward the spot from which this startling interruption had
come. Through the gloom they saw dimly a man step to the edge of the
beach, and hurl himself into the water.
With an exclamation of joy, Virginia opened her eyes and rose to a
sitting position. “Victory!” she murmured. “He has done it.”
But a second later her exultation gave place to horror and dismay,
as she heard the bark of a revolver. By the spurt of flame which
accompanied the report, she saw Captain Reyes standing at the water’s
edge, shooting savagely at the fugitive.