The same officer who had met us took us back, and this time we were obliged to pass that hole our 9.2 had made. The pathway was almost hidden by the blocks of stone and scattered bricks which had been hurled down by the explosion, and we had to pick our way very gingerly across them, so that it was impossible not to notice the huge gap above us.
The officer waved his hands and shrugged his shoulders, 'We forget—you forget—all mucho bueno.'
'Do you expect that ship to come here, sir?' I asked him, as we pulled back to the ship.
'Don't know, lad, she should make for San Fernando first, and I'm going to stay here to see that she doesn't get there, but I've told "Old Spats" to take the Hercules to Los Angelos, in case she should attempt anything there.'
I told him what Gerald had said to me about Captain Pelayo, and asked him what he would do if she did not stop when told to do so.
'Shall we have to fight her, sir?'
'I suppose we shall,' he answered, with a wink. He looked as though he almost hoped she wouldn't stop. So should I have done but for old Gerald.
'She'll be a pretty hard nut to tackle, sir; she's got eight twelve-inch guns on a broadside.'
'Well, we've got four 9.2's and four 7.5's. Don't bother about that, she won't know how to use them.'
Still I couldn't help thinking that, unless we had the Hercules to help us, it would be a pretty hard job.