Then, receiving no answer, he shouted alternately for Don Manuel and old Madre Dolores.
This time he was more successful, for as he paused for breath we heard a voice far down the garden-path replying in Spanish, “Hola! Hola! Who calls for me so loudly?”
And looking in that direction we saw Don Manuel sauntering up the path with his gun thrown carelessly over his shoulder and a well-filled bag of “specimens” by his side.
We hastened out to meet him, and received a right joyous and hearty greeting, to which we hastily responded; and then poor Smellie in his anxiety blurted out:
“And where is Doña Antonia?”
“Is she not in the house?” asked Don Manuel.
“I cannot find her anywhere,” replied Smellie, “and I greatly fear—” then his natural caution returned to him and he checked himself. “By the way,” he continued, “have you seen anything of your friend Señor Madera lately.”
“No,” answered Don Manuel, “he has never had the assurance to appear here since the night on which he made his audacious attempt to abduct my daughter; but I noticed just now that his ship is in the creek below there, so I hastened home, deeming it only prudent to be on the spot whilst he favours us with his unwelcome proximity.”
“His ship in the creek!” exclaimed Smellie incredulously. “Then she must have arrived within the last half-hour, for it is barely that since we passed from the mouth to the head of the creek, and no ship was in it then.”
A little cross-questioning, however, elicited the fact that there were two creeks near Don Manuel’s house; we had explored the western creek, and it was the other which at that moment sheltered Señor Madera’s ship.