"And the spy stabbed you?"
"Yes. In the shoulder, but he did not hurt me very much."
"He must be a desperate man."
"He is. That stabbing business seems to be a favorite trick of his. I hope I shan't have to face him again."
Whether Ignacio was a Spaniard or a traitor Cuban, no one could say. Clif had first met him trying to lead astray an American officer who had been sent with dispatches for Gomez.
And Clif had foiled the plot, and had been Ignacio's deadly enemy ever since. Clif had been keeping a careful watch for him. He knew that the vindictive fellow would follow his every move; Ignacio was acting as a spy for the Spaniards, and so must have found it easy to keep track of the cadet's whereabouts. But so far Clif had not met him.
"We are likely to have a wild night of it," said Lieutenant Raymond. "The clouds seem to get darker every minute."
"It'll be a night for the blockade-runners," was Clif's answer. "We may have some excitement."
"We'll have it anyway," said the other. "I don't know of anything I less rather do than weather a storm while in among the vessels of the fleet. It will be necessary to stay on deck every instant of the time keeping watch for our very lives."
"I know how it is," the cadet added. "I was on the Porter dining one such night. And we captured a prize coming out of Havana after almost running her down in the darkness."