"The Señor will get wet," cried Pepito as he approached. His tone was that of aggrieved expostulation. "He will spoil his fine clothes. Ay de mí! Why will the Señor be so rash? And he has only one uniform. Now he will have to travel as a Busno. Ay de mí!"
Jack had now turned, and was swimming hard against the current. He heard Pepito remonstrating in his wake, but although he treasured the remembrance afterwards, he was in no mood at the time to be amused with his follower's untimely zeal. His heavy boots and water-logged clothes, to say nothing of the numbing cold of the water, made swimming anything but an agreeable exercise, and he was heartily glad when he clambered into a boat that had been promptly lowered from the ship. Pepito followed him a few seconds later, looking not unlike a water rat as he emerged dripping from the river, in which he seemed perfectly at home. In the boat the boy showed him, with an expressive grin, a piece of rope about five feet long. He had dragged it with him out of the river. "What are you doing with that?" enquired Jack sharply.
"It belongs to the ship," was the reply. "Pepito is not a thief; he must give it back."
"How came you to fall in?"
"I was swinging on the rope."
"And it got untied?"
"No; it was cut."
Jack started and looked closely at the end of the rope, which Pepito handed to him with a chuckle of enjoyment. It had evidently been severed with a knife.
"Perez?" enquired Jack.
"Yes, Señor," said Pepito.