"The buccaneers?"
"Morgan—all Spain hates him with reason—led them!"
"Morgan! That accursed scourge again in arms? Impossible! I don't understand!"
"The very same! 'Tis true! 'tis true! Oh, your Excellency——"
"A prisoner! For God's love turn back the men!"
"Instantly!" cried the Viceroy.
He was burning with anxiety to hear more, but he was too good a soldier to hesitate as to the first thing to be done. Raising himself in his stirrups he gave a few sharp commands and the little army, which had halted when he had, faced about and began the return march to Caracas at full speed. As soon as their manœuvres had been completed and they moved off, the Viceroy, who rode at the head with Alvarado and the gentlemen of his suite, broke into anxious questioning.
"Now, Captain, but that thou art a skilled soldier I could not believe thy tale."
"My lord, I swear it is true!"