"That is a poor compliment to me," observed Sorillo, smiling. "My messenger is already on his way to the hacienda with the news. I have told him to say you are in absolutely no danger, so that your mother will not be alarmed."
"Then I am more than ever in your debt," said I gratefully, for the chief's action showed a thoughtful consideration quite unexpected.
"We shall never pay all that is owing to the son of Don Eduardo Crawford," he answered gravely. "And now let me carry you to my hut. A bed has been prepared there for you; it is a simple affair, but you will be comfortable."
I slept well that night. The pain had considerably decreased, and I had no cause for fear or anxiety. Sorillo slept in another corner of the hut, going out so quietly in the morning that he did not disturb me. Indeed the sun was high in the heavens when I wakened.
The chief's messenger had not returned, and another day passed before he appeared; then, to my delight, he brought José with him.
"Well, Jack," exclaimed my old friend, on finding that I was really not much hurt, "you gave Miller a fine fright. He thought you were either dead or carried off. His troops are back in Lima. It seems Canterac was too good for you."
"He flung half his army at us," I responded rather sulkily, for one does not like being reminded of a beating. "It must have been a matter of ten to one. But never mind that. What news do you bring from Lima? How is my mother? and how are events moving there?"
"Your mother is well, and sends her love to you, and events are shaping just as we could wish them to. We are masters of Callao."
"Then the forts have fallen? O José, tell me quickly—I am burning with excitement—was my father there?"
"Keep cool!" said he, smiling; "I don't want you to throw yourself into a fever. Yes, we found your father there."