CHAPTER XXI.
RECAPTURED BY THE ENEMY.
Clif was so heartbroken at that sudden ending of all his hopes, that he scarcely cared whether he was drowned or not. But he saw Bessie Stuart struggling in the seething waters, and toward her he struck out desperately.
It took the cadet but a moment to reach her side. The shattered wreck of the wooden boat was floating near, and to that he struggled, helping her on.
And they reached it, in what it sounds like mockery to call safety. The girl scarcely knew whether it were best to hold on or to drown.
But instinctively she clung to the side as the great waves swept over them; and the two fixed their eyes upon the approaching vessel.
She came on swiftly, sheering the water with her sharp bow. And Clif could see half a dozen men standing in the bow watching them.
"Perhaps they have heard of our escape," he growled, "and come after us."
The vessel was not coming from Havana, but the cadet knew that a telegram might have sent it out.
At any rate, they were recaptured; and the horrors of Morro were before them again.