“Chawed bone!” burst out Stanley, in a forecastle roar of indignation.
“Yes, senor, you are right,” said the young woman. “That is something like the name of the man.”
“But you don’t like him?” demanded the old sailor excitedly.
The young woman gazed at him in surprise, while Midshipman Stark shot a disapproving glance at the boatswain’s mate.
“No, I do not!” she declared, with a little stamp of her foot. At that moment the sergeant in charge of the sentries came in and uttered a few excited words.
“He says that he has received word that my uncle is on his way here, senors. Perhaps he is coming to release you. I hope so. But it will not do for him to find me here. Adios!”
In a flash she was gone, and the cell-room door clanged once more. Presently the rattle of her horse’s hoofs sounded, rapidly dying away in the distance.
“Well!” exclaimed the midshipman, drawing a long breath, “matters are getting complicated.”
“If she ever marries that Chawedbones——!” roared Stanley, shaking his fist.