That Cleo would find means of hiding them on board until the Dreadnaught sailed for Jamaica he never once doubted.
With some anxiety he studied the heavens and the conditions of the weather, for what this August night brought in its train was a matter of considerable importance to him.
There would be a moon, very near the full, but clouds promised to shut it from view, at least the major portion of the time.
Roderic counted this as an especial favor in his direction.
He meant to take advantage of it.
All minor matters had been positively arranged, even to the boat in which they were to be carried to the English yacht, and this was in itself a very important factor in the game, one that by any neglect in making up the programme might have proved a fatal error.
He killed time in the early evening by loitering around the coffee houses and hearing the various opinions expressed by Spanish soldiers and San Juan citizens regarding the immediate future of the city, for it was generally known that Ponce had fallen into the hands of the aggressive Yankees, and that the "thin blue line" was advancing across the country in the direction of the north coast, capturing everything en route, even to the hearts of the people, who hailed the Americans as their deliverers.
It was a distinct pleasure to Roderic to know that the army of occupation had landed on the soil of Spain's finest colony, for he realized that the glorious flag of liberty once planted would never be taken down again.
San Juan did not worry.