The Peruvian officer then realized for the first time that he had appeared in his night clothes, and his one fault being his vanity, he became as humble as a reprimanded child when he appreciated what a sorry figure he had cut. To add to his confusion, Mrs. Saunders came from her rooms at that moment, and before her husband could reach her side and ask her to withdraw, she had taken a dozen steps in their direction. In his anxiety not to be seen, the general had stepped behind Carl, and had whispered to the boy: “Shield me! Shield me, I beg you!”
That was easy to do, for the youth was much taller than the officer, and considerably broader, so that, standing still, he completely hid the diminutive general, who remained quiet until Mrs. Saunders had left the balcony. Then, darting from behind his human barrier, he made haste by a side door to the room where he had passed the night.
A few minutes later Faustina announced that breakfast was on the table, and Carl and Louis at once sat down with Captain and Mrs. Saunders. Although the latter was much interested in the news of the advent of the Chilean fleet, she asked if General Matajente had been awakened, and suggested that they await his arrival. But Captain Saunders understood the officer so well that he knew he would not wish to present himself before the boys after his peculiar appearance, and he also realized that the Peruvian wished to reach Callao with all haste; so he made excuses for him, and with his own hands carried a tray laden with edibles to his room.
“I shall go to Callao with our friend,” he said, on his return. “It is necessary that I know at once what course the Chileans have decided to take.”
“May we go with you?” Carl asked.
“Yes, if you hurry, for I shall not detain the general. The next dummy leaves in ten minutes. If you can catch that, you may go. But not so fast with your coffee, Carl. You will choke.”
“What do you think they will do?” asked Mrs. Saunders.
“I hardly think they will bombard,” he replied, “for they know the range of the guns in Callao, and they could not approach near enough to do any damage without exposing themselves to the Peruvians’ fire. So I expect they will send notice of a blockade. However, it may be of a bombardment, and in that event, Louise, we shall have to move to Lima to-night. So immediately after breakfast, you had better call in Faustina and pack the trunks; then we shall be ready for any emergency.”
“What if they declare a blockade?” his wife asked.
“Then our future actions will depend greatly upon its nature. If a close blockade be declared, one that will prevent the entry of any vessels until the war is ended, I believe it would be wise for you to leave at once for the States with the children.”