The young officer laughed heartily.
“You have curious ideas of our troops, sir. No, indeed, that horse belongs to the general’s niece.”
“Is that so?” inquired Stark, simulating an interest he was far from feeling.
“Yes, Senorita Isabelle de Guzman and——”
He stopped short as a sharp exclamation burst from Ned’s lips. It was entirely involuntary, but our readers will understand his astonishment at the name of Senorita Isabelle de Guzman when they recall that she was the young woman named in the will found on board the derelict.
“My companion suffers from a cold,” said Stark, with a sharp look at Ned, who, taking the hint, began to cough violently. He was glad of this excuse to cover his embarrassment, but his paroxysms did not prevent his keeping his ears open for the officer’s next words.
“She is one of the most beautiful young women in this part of South America,” he went on.
“Indeed,” commented Stark, “a prize for one of the general’s brave officers, perhaps?”
“Oh, no,” rejoined the Spanish-American, as if shocked at the bare idea. “She has no property. There would be no estate, no marriage portion with her hand.”
“Indeed! That is a requisite here, then?”