Clif's was a jaded old nag, and kept stumbling and stopping, making the task of riding a difficult one, but he did not notice it very much, for he was busily thinking.
His present situation was indeed a discouraging one, and he felt its degradation keenly. It was not that his conscience troubled him, for he knew that he had done all that could be expected of him.
But he was a prisoner for all that, and he had before him all the horrors of which he had heard so much.
Still there was no chance of escape, and he could only bow to the inevitable; but he could not help feeling a thrill of apprehension as he glanced behind him and saw the malignant Ignacio gazing at him.
But Ignacio bided his time, and said nothing. Meanwhile, the troopers trotted on.
In about fifteen minutes the little town drew near. Clif did not know the name of it, for he had no idea where he had run ashore on the previous night. But he did not think he was far from Havana.
The arrival of the soldiers created intense excitement in the town. Men and women and children and barking dogs rushed out to see them pass.
And when it was discovered that five Yankees had been captured the cavalrymen received an ovation. But they made straight on to their destination; what it was Clif had no trouble in guessing.
There was a railroad station in the town, and there the troopers came to a halt. Most of them dismounted from their horses to rest, and the captain hurried off to attend to the task of getting a train to take those prisoners to the capital.
Meanwhile a great crowd gathered about the little station; most of them were ugly-looking, ragged men, and they crowded around the prisoners and stared at them curiously.