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?”