"We must get in quickly and land our guns, Captain," he said. "It's too bad we have this party with us. However, you must not consider their comfort. If you land this cargo of ordnance, we can break the revolution easily and pleasantly."
He glanced at the Blancan navy—two gunboats, formerly pleasure yachts, and a "battleship," once a steam-lighter—which lay at strategic intervals across the harbor mouth and moved impatiently.
"The scoundrels!" he ejaculated. "Why don't they shell those insurgents? They could end this promptly if they wished to. I shall have something pleasant to say to them and to Señor Gaspard of the Marine when I see him. Still, perhaps they are waiting for me. President Rodriguez expects us."
Mollified at this thought, Mr. Howland straightened to a dignified and commanding posture. The honors accorded an arriving Howland vessel were the honors accorded a United States warship, and he scanned the fleet eagerly for the first sign of the invariable welcome. He turned to Dan.
"Better dive into your cabin, Captain, and get on your double-breasted regalia," he said. "There will be a round of diplomatic calls and felicitations generally—and of course they will ask for wine; for of all half-starved, thirsty natives, give me those of this bob-tailed republic."
The fighting had evidently stopped for the night, and Mr. Howland waved his hand at the flag-ship. He dearly loved all the punctilio of international etiquette and the deference that had ever been his portion in San Blanco.
And so this captain of industry smiled and hearkened for the first gun of the expected salute. But it did not come. There was silence somewhat grim and certainly sullen. He ground his teeth impatiently, angry disappointment growing as they drew near the fleet. "What is the matter with those rascals?" he growled, turning to Dan, who, resplendent in blue and gold, had just joined him on the bridge.
"They don't seem to be happy to see us," replied the Captain, shortly.
"Not happy!" exclaimed Mr. Howland, who began to feel that the situation approximated lèse-majesté. "Not happy? Confound them! When we're bringing guns to support their mangy and tottering Government!"
"Well," replied the young commander, who scented trouble and thought of the party on board, "they don't seem to be, anyway."