“Yes, Bascomb, but breathe it not, for we are Spanish soldiers this night of our Lord.”
“Ever the same noble, gallant fellow, Merrill, and God knows I’ll never forget you for this, will we——”
“Come, you must be off, or you will undo all that has been done. There is your craft and two men on board, chartered for the cruise—please go.” And thus urged the rescued men hastened into the boat, which at once shoved off, while brave Bascomb cried:
“We’ll meet again, Merrill; God bless you and your brave crew, whoever they be.”
“Now we must get out of this,” said Mark, and the Spaniard led the way rapidly back to the hut.
When the uniforms were discarded Mark handed the Spaniard the amount promised him, and getting into their boat, it was headed back to the Frolic.
“Merrill,” said Bemis Perry, in a low tone.
“Yes?”
“You engineered the bravest act of your life to-night, one which, dared it be known, would win you a name that would never die. I am proud to have been with you; but did you see that Clemmons skulked away when Bascomb recognized you, that he uttered no word?”
“Yes, he’s the same old Clemmons, Perry,” was the reply.