Ned felt desperate. Had it not been for his officer’s positive order he would have suggested fighting their way out desperately. It is true they could not have gone more than a few feet before they would have been pierced with insurgent bullets, but at least they would have had the satisfaction of dying in action. Suddenly the girl, a tall, slender young woman, with great masses of black hair coiled about a shapely head and large, luminous eyes, emerged from behind the palm, where she had been a silent witness of the scene. The sight of her recalled the will to Ned’s mind, and gave him a sudden desperate inspiration.
In an access of bravado he hurled some sharp speech at the general.
“We know the secret of Don Maritano’s will!”
If Ned had expected to produce a sensation he was gratified. The general wheeled with an oath, his hand on his sword hilt. For a second Ned saw that it was in his mind to draw it and run the bold American through. The girl, with her lips parted and with burning eyes, gave a scream.
“The will of my father!”
“Hush!” exclaimed the general. “Leave us at once.”
He came threateningly toward Ned. The girl retreated a few steps, but made no further effort to obey her uncle’s command.
“You insolent Americano!” he exclaimed, “What did you mean by those words?”
“What I said,” shot out Ned, enjoying the other’s angry perplexity and manifest uneasiness, “we know of the will.”