While Chase was speaking a man stepped into view from behind the fence and hurried toward them; but they soon found that there was no cause for alarm, for the new-comer was Don Casper himself.
“My lads,” he exclaimed, gleefully, “I am overjoyed to see you once more, and in possession of your liberty too.” And as he threw aside his cloak and extended a hand to each of them, the boys saw that he wore a sword by his side, and that his belt contained a brace of pistols. “This afternoon’s work has ruined me,” continued the Don, hurriedly. “It was very wrong in Captain Conway to send you out here in broad daylight, knowing as he does that I have long been suspected of being a rebel, and that the patrol were only waiting for some proof against me to arrest me. They’ve got that proof now, and my property will all be confiscated.”
And now something happened which Wilson had feared and was on the lookout for—something which came very near placing him and his friend in a much worse predicament than they had yet got into. It was nothing more nor less than an effort on the part of Chase to explain matters to the Don. Wilson had thought over their situation since his release from the wine-cellar, and he had come to the conclusion that, in the event of again meeting with their host, it would not be policy to attempt to correct the wrong impressions he had received concerning them, for the reason that it might prove a dangerous piece of business. He was afraid that the Don might not believe their story. In order to make him understand it, it would be necessary to go back to the day of the panther hunt, and describe what had then taken place between Bayard Bell and the members of the Sportsman’s Club. That would consume a good deal of time, and there would be some things to tell that would look very unreasonable; and perhaps the Don would do as the captain of the revenue cutter had done—declare that it was all false. He would very likely think that the boys were trying to deceive him, and he might even go so far as to believe that they were in sympathy with the Spaniards, and that they had been employed by them to come to his house in the character of smugglers, on purpose to give the patrol an excuse for arresting him. This thought was enough to cause even the plucky Wilson some anxiety, and the longer he pondered upon it the more alarmed he became.
“We haven’t seen the worst of it yet, I am afraid,” he soliloquized. “We are in a much worse predicament than I thought. There will certainly be an explosion if the Don finds out that we are not the fellows he takes us for, and perhaps he’ll he mad enough to smash things. He’s got a good opinion of us now, and it would be foolish to say anything to change it. Our best plan will be to keep our mouths closed, and to get away from him without loss of time. If I only knew who wrote the note that negro gave him and what was in it, I would know just how to act.”
Wilson waited for an opportunity to talk this plan over with Chase, but did not find it, for the reason that the Don made his appearance too quickly. The only course then left for him to pursue was to do all the talking himself, and allow his companion no chance to speak; but the latter was too smart for him, and with a dozen words brought about the very state of affairs that Wilson had hoped to guard against.
“You must not blame us for your misfortune,” said Chase.
“I do not. It is Captain Conway’s fault.”
“He did not send us here—that is, we did not come by his orders. We are not smugglers, and neither have we any arms for you.”
“Eh?” exclaimed the Don.