Such was the case on the particular morning when the young Englishmen encountered their next important adventure. The sun had been above the horizon nearly two hours when at length the dense fog which had enveloped their camp cleared sufficiently to permit of their proceeding upon their journey, but it still hung about here and there in heavy wreaths, motionless in the still morning air, when they quite unexpectedly came upon one of the old Peruvian roads constructed by the Incas. This road bore evidences of having at one time been a magnificent highway; but under the rule of the Spaniards it had been neglected until now it was little more than a sandy track over which Nature was fast resuming her sway. But it happened to lead in approximately the right direction for the Englishmen, and heavy as was the travelling over it, it was less laborious than toiling over a rough, trackless country, they therefore promptly decided to follow it so long as it ran their way.
About a mile from the spot where our two travellers came upon the road it entered a dense wood; and here the fog still hung thickly. But the friends decided that this was of little consequence, since the road, though its surface was broken up and much overgrown, was still easily distinguishable; accordingly they plunged into the wood without hesitation. A quarter of an hour later, as they rounded a bend in the road, they made the exceedingly unwelcome discovery that they had walked right into the midst of a party of some fifty Spanish soldiers who, having recently partaken of breakfast, were now resting by the roadside until the fog should clear.
The encounter was so sudden, so absolutely unexpected on the part of the Englishmen, that almost before they realised the presence of the Spaniards the latter—who had heard Dick and Phil talking together as they approached—had surrounded them, rendering flight an impossibility, and in a trice the pair were disarmed and, hemmed in by an escort of a dozen armed men, conducted to the spot where the captain—a tall, dark, handsome man, in full armour, but without a helmet—with his horse standing beside him, was reclining against the trunk of an enormous pine.
“Ah, Jorge!” exclaimed this individual, in Spanish, rising to his feet, as the party approached; “what have we here? Prisoners? Who and what are they? Surely not Indians—although they might well be, from their garb.”
“Truly, señor Capitan, I know not who or what they are,” answered the man addressed as Jorge, and who seemed, from his dress and equipment, to be some sort of inferior officer, possibly a sergeant; “but we heard them approaching along the road, and as their speech was strange I deemed it my duty to seize them; I therefore hastily arranged an ambush, into which they the next moment walked; and—here they are. If they were not so dark in colour I should say that they might possibly be Englishmen.”
“Inglés! here!” exclaimed the captain. “But that is impossible! Who are you, pícaros?”
Now, during their six weeks’ residence in Cartagena, under the hospitable roof of the señoritas Clara and Dolores, the two Englishmen had, by assiduous study, acquired a sufficient knowledge of Spanish to enable them to understand the nature of the question thus contemptuously addressed to them; and Phil—who, as usual, took the lead whenever any talking was to be done—at once replied:
“Impossible or not, señor, we are Englishmen; but, beyond that bare statement of fact, you must pardon us if we decline to say anything.”
“Oh!” retorted the Spaniard. “You decline to say anything, do you? Very good. I am not at all curious to learn the history of such vagabonds as you appear to be. The fact that you are—by your own confession—English, is enough for me. But there are others who may be more interested than I; and, if so, you may rest assured that they will find a way to make you speak. Take them away and secure them, Jorge,” he continued, addressing his subordinate; “and take care that they do not give you the slip. I shall hold you responsible for their safekeeping. And as soon as you have secured your prisoners to your satisfaction, let the men fall in, and we will resume our march.”
The man to whose charge our friends had been committed saluted, and then gave the signal for the prisoners to be led away, adding to his signal the significant order “Shoot the rascals at once upon the slightest sign of an attempt to escape.”