In the cool club-house, which faces the Plaza de Armas, where the band plays in the evening and fountains plash softly amid blossoming shrubbery, Ridge and his companion were introduced to many officers, a number of whom were from the warships.
Santiago was very dull just then; its communication with the outside world was cut off. No ships could enter its beautiful harbor, business was almost at a standstill, and there was little to talk about. So the advent of two strangers into the club was hailed with joy, and they were plied with questions. No one seemed to suspect that our young American was other than what he professed to be, though his answers to many of their questions were necessarily vague and unsatisfactory. In order to entertain them, the resident officers proposed various trips to places of near-by interest, such as the fortifications, the barracks where Lieutenant Hobson of the American navy was confined, the Morro, from which a view of the blockading squadron could be had, or to the Spanish war-ships lying in the harbor, the last of which was accepted for that morning.
As soon, therefore, as breakfast was over, the new-comers were escorted to the water-front, where lay several steam-launches. As they reached the landing-place a fine-looking man, white bearded, with twinkling eyes and kindly features, drove up in a carriage, and alighting with springy step, was instantly saluted by every officer present. He acknowledged the courtesy by lifting his hat and speaking to several of them, whom he called by name. Emboldened by his kindness, these ventured to present the new arrivals and mention their desire to visit the Spanish ships; whereupon Admiral Cervera, bravest and most chivalrous of Spain's commanders, promptly invited them to accompany him to the flag-ship.
As they steamed down the bay in the superbly appointed launch flying an Admiral's flag and manned by a picked crew in snowy duck, Ridge sat silent, in a very confused frame of mind, and paying scant attention to the gay conversation carried on by the other members of the party. He had been overcome by the courtesy of his reception in Santiago, and was feeling keenly the meanness of his position.
"I'll be shot for disobedience of orders before I ever again undertake to act the low-down part of a spy," he reflected, bitterly. At the same time he was wondering how he should manage to escape the kindly but embarrassing attentions of these new-found friends, and reach Daiquiri in time to communicate with General Shafter upon his arrival.
In spite of these thoughts, he did not fail to admire the beauty and massive symmetry of the ships they were approaching. There lay the Cristobal Colon, latest product of Italian skill; the splendid Vizcaya, that had recently attracted the admiration of all who saw her in New York Harbor; the Almirante Oquendo, that had been received with such wild enthusiasm in Havana; the Maria Teresa, famed for the richness of her interior fittings; the Reina Mercedes, used as a hospital-ship; the Pluton and the Furor, low, black, and ugly to look upon, both holding records for enormous speed, and more dreaded as engines of destruction than all the others put together. Stripped to fighting trim, these ships were the very embodiment of modern sea-power, and in his ignorance Ridge wondered if anything afloat could resist them. From them his attention was at length attracted to the Admiral, who was saying:
"I am about to send this launch, under a flag of truce, out to the American flag-ship to procure some supplies for our prisoners, the Señor Hobson and his men. So if you have a desire to view the Yankee ships at close range I shall be pleased to have you accompany it. Possibly you speak the English, in which case you might prove of use as interpreter."
"I do not speak it so well as does my friend the Señor Remelios," replied Lieutenant Navarro, to whom this invitation had been extended.
"Then it may be that he will do me the favor to accompany the launch," suggested the Admiral, and of course Ridge gladly embraced the opportunity thus offered.
"Perhaps I can stay on board the American ship," he said to himself, "and not be compelled to revisit Santiago until I can do so as an honest fighter, instead of as a contemptible spy. And what a chance it will be for Navarro to escape from the Spaniards!"