“Oh, I say,” cried Poole, “please don’t!”
“Very well,” said the Spaniard, laughing; “I’ll say no more, but I shall think.”
“I don’t mind his thinking,” said Fitz, a short time later when he was talking to his companion about what had been said. “But I hope next time he wants to go into ecstasies about what we did, he’ll let them all off at you.”
“Thankye,” said Poole; “much obliged.” The lads had something else to think of the next day, for in the midst of the rejoicings over Don Ramon’s success, and when the gunboat was dressed with colours from head to stern, the new President’s flag predominant, and her old officers accepting the alteration in the state of affairs with the greatest nonchalance, and in fact on the whole pleased with the change of rulers, signals were shown from the high look-out at the entrance of the harbour indicating that a vessel was in sight. In the midst of the excitement that this caused, steam was hastily got up on board the gunboat, and the decks cleared for action ready for an engagement if necessary in Don Ramon’s cause.
The excitement soon ceased to be alarming, for in due course the stranger’s flag was made out, her signal for a pilot answered, and in the course of the afternoon a United States cruiser steamed in, answering the salute from the fort and gunboat, and taking up her position close under their guns.
The rest of the customary civilities were interchanged, and the captain of the Yankee came ashore to visit the new President, laughingly saying that he had come to see Don Villarayo, but as he was in the mountains and a new President governed in his stead, and as he supposed it was only a matter of form before Don Ramon would be acknowledged by the American Government, he had nothing to do but wait for instructions after he had communicated with Washington.
The captain made himself very agreeable, chatting with Don Ramon’s notabilities, and the schooner’s skipper; but several times he glanced searchingly in the direction of Fitz Burnett, who had been awaiting his opportunity either to be introduced or to go up and speak.
His turn came at last, for the captain fixed his eyes upon him with a look of invitation to which Fitz instantly responded by closing up, colouring slightly the while with consciousness, as it seemed to him that the American captain, all spick and span in his neat naval uniform, was looking askant at the well-worn garments the lad was wearing.
“How do, youngster?” he said. “I didn’t know one of your cruisers was in these waters. Has she left you here as a hostage, or something of the kind? You English chaps are everywhere.”
For long enough Fitz Burnett had been waiting for this moment, ready to pour out his troubles and adventures to somebody who would give him help; and now that the time had come he could hardly speak.