Captain Bush mopped his forehead. “Old Felizardo himself here, in Igut!” he repeated; then a thought struck him. “Why didn’t he send me warning?” he demanded, with sudden suspicion.
Basil looked out of the window at the Presidente, who was just crossing the plaza. “If you had shown a sign of being prepared, the insurrectos would have become suspicious, and would not have come in. As it was, my fellows never entered into their calculations at all.”
The explanation satisfied Bush. “It sounds all right,” he began, then he was cut short by the entrance of Mrs Bush.
For a while, they talked on indifferent subjects, then Basil rose to leave. “I think I shall go aboard now,” he said—he had arranged for his men to spend the night in the Scout barracks. “I haven’t got over my long march yet, and the coastguard is sailing at dawn.”
Both Captain Bush and his wife accompanied their guest to the door. “We shall see you again?” Mrs Bush asked.
Basil nodded. “Yes, I am sure to call in here on my way back; and very possibly I shall go through to Silang this route. It is as short as the other way, through Catarman”—a statement which was not strictly true.
Mrs Bush smiled. “So it’s only au revoir?”
“Yes, only au revoir,” he answered ….
The coastguard steamer entered Manila, flying a signal for the police launch, which presently arrived in a great hurry. Basil went aboard her at once.
“I want to speak to you, Jimmy,” he said to the captain, who had been one of his fellow-non-commissioned officers in the Garrison Artillery. When they were in the little cabin, “Is there any special news in Manila?” he demanded.