"I want to see Lord Cochrane immediately," said José.
"His lordship is engaged in his cabin. Give your message to me."
"I prefer to manage my own business, thank you," replied José coolly. "Tell the admiral I have come from Colonel Miller."
As he finished speaking, a distinguished-looking officer, accompanied by several others, appeared on deck, and I knew instinctively that we were in the presence of the famous Admiral Cochrane, whose marvellous exploits had gained for him the admiration of the world.
Hearing the name of Miller, he stopped, and looking at us, said, "What is that about Colonel Miller?"
"He is dying, sir!" exclaimed José, as much at ease with an admiral as with a private sailor. "His men are all down with ague, and the colonel will be dead inside a week unless you remove him at once."
"Mr. Welsh," remarked the admiral to a handsome young fellow standing near, "this is your affair. Do whatever you think best; but remember, I would rather lose a ship than Miller. He's the one man we can rely upon ashore." Then looking at us, he added, "You are not soldiers?"
"This lad," replied José, pointing to me, "is Jack Crawford. His father was one of the largest landowners in Peru, and a great patriot. The Spaniards shot him some time ago, and the boy has been hiding ever since. Yesterday we arrived at Pisco to join the detachment there, as volunteers, and found the colonel delirious with fever. A few days longer in camp will finish him."
"He shall be removed at once," exclaimed the Admiral.—"Captain Wilkinson, will you order a boat to be lowered!" and then he began to question José further concerning the condition of the troops.
Very quickly the boat was got ready, Mr. Welsh took his seat, and at his suggestion we followed, giving instructions to our own men to return to shore.