A ring of brightening faces was around me while I uttered these cheering words; and Don Cosmé, grasping me by the hand, entreated me to proceed.
“This Spanish ship,” I continued, “is still allowed to keep up a communication with the town. You should proceed aboard at once, and by the assistance of this friend you may bring away your son before the bombardment commences. I see no difficulty; our batteries are not yet formed.”
“I will go this instant!” said Don Cosmé, leaping to his feet, while Dona Joaquina and her daughters ran out to make preparations for his journey.
Hope—sweet hope—was again in the ascendant.
“But how, Señor?” asked Don Cosmé, as soon as they were gone; “how can I pass your lines? Shall I be permitted to reach the ship?”
“It will be necessary for me to accompany you, Don Cosmé,” I replied; “and I regret exceedingly that my duty will not permit me to return with you at once.”
“Oh, Señor!” exclaimed the Spaniard, with a painful expression.
“My business here,” continued I, “is to procure pack-mules for the American army.”
“Mules?”
“Yes. We were crossing for that purpose to a plain on the other side of the woods, where we had observed some animals of that description.”