Don Jorge nodded. Hitt sprang to his feet and looked out toward the silent fortress.
“Don Jorge, it is dark out over the harbor at night, eh? No searchlights?”
“None, señor.”
Hitt began to pace back and forth. Suddenly he stopped, and stood looking down through a hole in the broken pavement. Then he knelt and peered long and eagerly into it.
“Look here, friend,” he called. “How does one get into that place?”
Don Jorge came and looked into the aperture. “It is one of the rooms of the fortress,” he said. “But––caramba! I know not how it may be reached.”
“The passageways?”
“Caved––all of them.”
“But––you are a mighty husky fellow; and I am not weak. Suppose we try lifting one of these flags.”
“Na, señor, as well try the tunnels! But, why?”