"Nonsense, man."
"May I ask what is nonsense, Captain Dynamite?" said Mr. Wyman, whose dignity was injured.
"In the first place, it is nonsense to expect any aid from Weyler, who always staunchly supports his lieutenants, whether right or wrong, and in the second place, we do not want a reprieve. We've got to get them clean away from here before they will be safe—clean off the blooming island. I'll take them back to the old Mariella—that's the safest place for them. I wish to goodness they had never left her."
"But how, my good sir—how under the sun are you going to get them to the Mariella when they are locked up in a Spanish jail?"
"No jail is impregnable."
"But you cannot storm it in the face of a garrison of men with a handful of twelve."
"There are more than fifty times twelve almost within gunshot, but I still think the twelve will be sufficient for my purpose."
"Do you mean that the city is threatened by insurgents?" Mr. Wyman looked worried. "I must get my wife away, sir."
"Don't worry, consul. If it comes to that the American flag is sacred to the insurgents; but if there is any fighting it will be on the picket line only, I fancy."
"But what is your plan?"