If possible Fitz’s face grew a deeper scarlet.
“Have you another such lightning stroke of genius to propose?”
“No, sir,” said the boy sharply; “and if I had I must recollect that I am a neutral, a prisoner here, and it is my duty to hold my tongue.”
“Ah, yes,” said the Don, frowning a little; “I had forgotten. You are in the Government’s service, and my good friend Captain Reed has told me how you happen to be here. But if the British Government knew exactly how things were, they would honour you for the way in which you have helped me on towards success.”
“Yes, sir, no doubt,” said the lad frankly; “but the British Government doesn’t know what you say, and it doesn’t know me; but Captain Glossop does. He’s my government, sir, and it will be bad enough when I meet him, as it is. What will he say when he knows I’ve been fighting for the people in the schooner I came to take?”
“Hah!” said the President thoughtfully, and he was silent for a few moments. Then rising he turned to the skipper. “I must go back, Captain Reed,” he said, “for there is much to do. But I have warned you of the peril in which you stand. You will help me, I know, if you can; but you must not have your brave little schooner sunk, and I know you will do what is best. Fate may favour us still more, and I shall go on in that hope.”
Then without another word he strode out of the cabin, and went down into his barge amidst a storm of cheers and wavings of scarves and flags, while those on deck watched him threading his way towards the little fort.
“He’s the best Spaniard I ever met, Burgess,” said the skipper.
“Yes,” said the mate. “He isn’t a bad sort for his kind. If it was not for the poor beggars on board, who naturally enough all want to live, I should like to go some night and put a keg of powder aboard that gunboat, and send her to the bottom.”
“Ah, but then you’d be doing wrong,” said the skipper.