They came to the back of the stables, and, striking to the right, reached the end of the wall. Here they halted for a moment, while Will glanced around. A light through the open door of the house was reflected on the surface of the lake. To his joy he saw that De Mello's little sailing yacht lay at the jetty. He had feared it might have been removed. Creeping along by the front wall of the stables he came to a spot whence he could see the door. A sentry was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall, his head bent forward as in slumber. It might be possible to get to the jetty without waking him. Will returned to the men, and whispering "Remember!" to Machado, he led the way towards the terrace whence a few steps led down to the jetty.
They were half-way there when, just as they came within the illuminated space, the sentry in a sleepy voice cried, "Who goes there?"
"A friend!" answered Machado at once.
"The word?"
"Libertad!"
The General began to struggle, and Will pressed the cold muzzle of the revolver to his brow.
"Who is it?" said the sentry.
"Stop, and answer him," whispered Will.
"Miguel Machado: you know me," said Machado.
"Ah, Señor Machado, it is you. What have you got there?"