"It probably belonged to some of the reconcentrados," he muttered.
He was about to turn and give the word to proceed.
Then suddenly a new idea occurred to him, and he gave a pleased exclamation.
"This is lucky!" he whispered. "Men, what is the matter with hiding there?"
That was a rather startling proposition; for they could not be at all sure but some one lived there after all.
But Clif had come several miles by that time, and he was disposed to be a trifle desperate.
A person can get so tired that he will be anxious to enter even a Spanish dungeon in order to get a chance to rest.
"We will search the house," he said. "If we find anybody we'll hold them up and make them prisoners; and if we don't, we'll spend the night there."
And then without another word he started silently forward. The sailors were right behind him.
What was evidently the front of the house was the part that had been burned. Clif picked his way over the ruins and into the rear, where there was a roof still remaining.