The men plunge through the gloom, muffled to the eyes and with heads bent before the biting blasts from the river, when their ears are suddenly assailed by the sound of a scuffle ahead of them and a half-choked cry for help. Quickening their steps, they run upon two men. One of them is prone upon the pier; the other, clearly his assailant, bends over him.
Before the scamp can rise Van Zandt deals him a blow with his heavy cane that stretches him beside his victim. He is not a courageous rogue, or if he is realizes that his chance for an argument is not especially good. So when he struggles to his feet he makes off without a word, without even an imprecation.
Van Zandt and Manada raise the prostrate form and bear it back to the street. As the lamplight falls upon the face of the unconscious man Van Zandt utters an ejaculation of astonishment.
“By heaven! it is Gen. Murillo! You see, my friend, that I was not mistaken. He probably came down here to have a look at the Isabel, and was set upon by one of the scum of the river front.”
Manada nods a silent assent. “He must not see us,” he mutters, uneasily.
“Don’t be alarmed. He is not likely to recognize any one for a few minutes. I hope he is not badly hurt. Off with him to yonder saloon; or, better, to the ferryhouse. The man will be safer there, though we are more likely to find a policeman at the saloon.”
A policeman is at the ferryhouse, however, and assistance is summoned. Van Zandt and Manada wait until Gen. Murillo is laid in the ambulance and the surgeon in charge has assured them that the man is not fatally hurt; then they tell their story to the policeman and go about their business.
“A peculiar episode,” remarks Van Zandt. “Our friend will never know to whom he owes his rescue and perhaps his life. Our affair must be hurried, nevertheless, for we know what his first effort will be when he recovers consciousness.”
“Yet some day, when Cuba is free, I shall have the pleasure of recalling the incident to his mind.”
“When Cuba is free,” repeats Van Zandt. “Well, luck favoring us, we shall fire a shot to-day that will ring in the ears of the government at Madrid. Here we are at the Semiramis. Where is the Isabel?”