"From the 'Long Island,'" Dave answered. "Come out and join us, and we'll take you to safety."
"Now, heaven be praised for this!" answered the same man's voice, devoutly. "Come, my dear ones. We are under the protection of our own Navy men."
Out into the street came a man and woman past middle age. Behind them followed a man of perhaps twenty-five, and a woman who was still younger.
"I am Ensign Darrin, at your service," Darrin announced, raising his cap.
"We were never so glad before to see a naval officer, Mr. Darrin," responded the older man, heartily. "Tom and I had only our revolvers with which to defend ourselves. Permit me. I am Jason Denman. This is my wife, this our daughter, and this our son."
Dave stepped closer to acknowledge the introduction. When, in the darkness, his gaze rested on the young woman, Ensign Darrin gave a gasp of surprise.
"You are wondering if we have met before," smiled the young woman, sadly. "Yes, Mr. Darrin, we have. You thrashed that bully, Mr. Cantor, one night in New York."
"I did not know, then, that he was a brother officer," murmured
Dave, "but I would have struck him even if I had known."
"He was here to-night, with the Mexicans whom you drove away," continued the young woman.
"With Mexican soldiers?" gasped Darrin.