A dense belt of dark-leaved bananas separated the villa from the
highway, along which they had been riding. Without bothering to find a
pathway, the Americans swung their horses into the plantation and rode
forward at a rattling gait among the bananas.
Owing probably to the softness of the ground, the sound of their
approach was not audible within, and the cries increased as they drew
nearer. Flinging their reins to the guide, whom nothing would have
induced to join them, the Americans swung off their horses within a few
yards of a lighted window, and ran forward.
The sight which met their eyes within the casement was one which did
not make Ned’s amazed exclamation seem out of place.
“It’s Senorita Isabelle!” exclaimed Herc, as his eyes encountered the
shrinking figure of a young woman in one corner of the lighted room.
In front of her, with a drawn sword, was General de Guzman himself,
his face convulsed with fury. In another corner of the place stood
Charbonde and Hank Harkins holding back a venerable old lady, who
appeared to have been on the point of precipitating herself upon the
general.
“For the last time, girl, will you tell me where that will is?”
demanded the infuriated general in Spanish.
“Never,” the girl bravely replied, “even though no one has heard my
cries for help. I defy you to make me speak. The secret was imparted
to me in confidence, and why should I tell you the whereabouts of the
document? You only desire to possess yourself of it so that you may
profit by wrongfully withholding our property.”
“Then I shall make you a prisoner. My troops are now at the gates of
Boca del Sierras. To-morrow they will enter it in triumph. I shall make
it my first business to recapture those Americans, and shoot them in
front of your eyes.”
“Help! Help!” screamed the young woman, as the man advanced upon her.
“Scream all you wish to, my dear niece. There is nobody to hear you!”
exclaimed de Guzman, with an evil leer.
The moment for revealing themselves had arrived. With a yell the
Americans leaped the low sill of the open window and dashed into
the room. A blow of Ned’s fist sent the general sprawling in a most
undignified position into a corner of the room. Herc disposed of their
old friend, Hank Harkins, while the impact of Stanley’s mighty fist
sounded on the jaw of Chawedbones, as the sailor insisted on calling
him. As for the girl, she seemed about to faint, but somehow Midshipman
Stark’s arms happened to be convenient as she staggered back.
[Illustration: With a yell the Americans leaped the low sill of the
open window and dashed into the room.]
The naval men’s borrowed revolvers came in handy at that moment, for
all the tormentors of the two women were armed. Under the menacing
muzzles of the Americans’ pistols, however, they were speedily
disarmed. In fact, their amazement at the sudden appearance of the
quartette in that place, and in such an hour, had almost bereft
the others of their senses. By de Guzman and by the others, who had
witnessed the sinking of the boat in which the Americans were escaping,
it had been confidently assumed that they were all dead. Of the part
they had played against the insurgents in the last few hours de Guzman
was, of course, unaware.
As for Senorita Isabelle and her mother, they were as dumfounded as
the general and his worthy accomplices. After the first few minutes of
silence, they began to stammer their thanks, but the midshipman and his
companions hastily, yet politely, waved them aside.
“We are only too happy to have been in time,” said the middy, with a
gallant bow, “but how did you happen to be placed in such a position?”
The girl looked embarrassed. The Americans understood that, brute as he
was, de Guzman was still her relative, and she wished to say nothing
against him. Her mother, however, broke into a storm of Spanish,
aimed at her brother-in-law. She explained that, while they had been
seated alone in the house that evening, their tormentors had made
their appearance through the window. General de Guzman had heard from
the soldiers who had guarded the prison at Miraflores of his niece’s
visit to the dungeon. One of them who understood English had played
eavesdropper, and, as soon as he had an opportunity, he had informed
the general of what he had heard. He was unable to tell him of the
location of the will, however, and for this the revolutionary leader
had visited the hacienda, with a stern determination to find out its
whereabouts. His threat to imprison the girl and her mother had been
the climax to a stormy interview.
“And now, sir,” spoke up the general sullenly, “perhaps you will detain
us no longer. This is a family affair, and----”
“You have been beaten at your own game,” put in Midshipman Stark.
The general glowered, but said nothing. Senorita Isabelle turned to the
Americans.
“You will not keep him longer? I am certain that he will do us no more
harm to-night.”
“Nor in the future,” spoke up Ned recklessly. “I’ll get the will for
you to-morrow.”
A smile flitted across the general’s face.
“To-morrow things will have changed in Boca del Sierras,” he exclaimed.
“I shall be in possession there.”
The Americans looked their astonishment, but thought it best to say
nothing to betray their ignorance. The next moment the general renewed
his request to be allowed to depart.
“What shall we do?” asked Stark, gazing at the others.
“Well, sir, as we are not combatants, I don’t see how we are to make
him a prisoner of war,” said Ned.
“Neither do I. We shall have to let him go, I suppose.”
“And his pair of friends, too, sir?” asked Stanley, shaking his mighty
fist at the cowering Hank Harkins.
“Yes, let them go, too. You have horses, general?”
“Yes,” rejoined the other sullenly.
“Good thing,” whispered Herc. “That means ours are safe.”
“You mean they would steal them?” asked Ned.
“In a minute. Those fellows would take pennies from a blind man.”
“I half believe even that about them, too,” laughed Ned, as the
general, followed by the others, slunk out of the room. They had not
received their weapons back, and none of the Americans had made it
possible for them to ask for them. Presently the clatter of hoofs
outside announced their departure.
The two women then began to question the Americans eagerly about their
plans. They were dumfounded when told that the four meant to push on
and join their ship.
“But, senors, that will be impossible,” declared the elder lady. “The
insurgent forces are now surrounding the city. You cannot get through
the lines.”
“The two armies have then united?” gasped the middy in consternation.
“Not yet, but they are expecting the vessels from Santa Anna to
arrive to-morrow, and when the bombardment from the sea is begun the
insurgents will seize that opportunity to unite their forces and sweep
down upon the city from the hills.”
The recent officers of the _General Barrill_ exchanged glances. They
knew there would be no naval attack. If General de Guzman was depending
on his blue-water allies his cause was tottering.
“Ah, I see you know something about that navy!” exclaimed the younger
woman, who had recovered her usual vivacity. “Do tell us.”
“We are not at liberty to, senorita,” rejoined the middy. “All we can
tell you is that a naval attack on the city will never take place.”
Seeing that there was some mystery in all this, the women refrained
from further questions. A short time afterward, a noise outside
announced that the loitering house servants had returned, and, much
against their wills, the Americans were detained for refreshments. It
was just before dawn when they set out once more, riding fast. They had
a lot of ground to cover if they hoped to make the city of Boca del
Sierras before the insurgents’ attack commenced.
They were all silent and preoccupied as they pressed forward. Ned
and Herc thought over what might ensue if they were captured by
the insurgent troops. Stanley was wishing for a pipe of tobacco, a
luxury which he had not been able to indulge in for several days.
The cigarettes of the _Barrill_ he had refused with scorn. As for
Midshipman Stark, his thoughts were mainly occupied by the slender
figure of Senorita Isabelle. As they rode along, her face seemed always
dancing just in front of him. Middies are among the most impressionable
of mankind, and Mr. Stark was no exception to his class.
But the ruminations of all four were rudely shattered after they had
ridden a short distance. They were now traversing a narrow plateau at
the foot of some rugged mountains. It was from these hills that the new
peril had manifested itself. As he gazed upward, their guide wheeled
his horse and rode off for his life in the direction whence they had
come.
A troop of horsemen was riding down the hillside rapidly toward them.
There were evidently two hundred or more in the body. Suddenly their
leader gave a shout. It was easily interpreted by the travelers as a
signal to halt.
With very apprehensive feelings regarding what was to come, the
Americans reined in. In the hands of the insurgents they knew their
lives would not be worth a moment’s purchase.