"Faith," he muttered, "the young cockerel ruffles his feathers early!" and then, again addressing me, he asked, "And where were you going?"
"On a sea voyage, for the benefit of my health—and to be out of the way."
To this he made no reply, but his brows puckered up as if he were in deep thought. I stood by the window watching him, and wondering what would be the outcome of this visit.
After a short time he said, slowly and deliberately, so that I might lose nothing of his speech, "Listen to me, young sir. Though you are young, there are some things you can understand. Your father tried, and tried hard, to wrest this country from its proper ruler, our honoured master, the King of Spain. He failed; but others have taken his place, and though you are only a boy, they will endeavour to make use of you. We shall crush the rebellion, and the leaders will lose their lives. I am going to save you from their fate."
I thought this display of kindness rather strange, but made no remark.
"In this fortress," he continued, "you will be out of mischief, and here I intend you shall stay till the troubles are at an end."
"That sounds very much as if you mean to keep me a prisoner!" I exclaimed hotly.
"Exactly," said he; then turning on his heel he walked out.
From the window I watched him cross the courtyard and enter the commandant's quarters. Ten minutes afterwards Santiago appeared with a file of soldiers.
"Very sorry, my boy," said the young captain, coming into the room, "but a soldier must obey orders. You are my prisoner."