Suddenly the ornamented gate in front of the Windom villa opened and Clif emerged, gallantly lifting his naval cap to those inside.
He glanced hastily at his watch, then with a half-suppressed exclamation of surprise, looked about for a conveyance.
The carriage which had been loitering in the vicinity was coming briskly toward him. He hailed it, leaped inside, and was soon leaving the vicinity.
While passing a nearby corner Clif chanced to look over toward a barefoot lad standing under a wall lamp.
“Gorry! it’s that little beggar, Pedro,” he muttered. “What’s he doing out here, I wonder? Guess he saw me from the expression on his face.”
He fell to musing over the diving episode of the morning. From that to his extremely pleasant afternoon with Juanita was but a step, and Pedro’s scowling face speedily gave way to the beautiful, attractive countenance of the girl.
It was growing dark very rapidly.
The carriage rattled along over the rough cobbles and through streets entirely unfamiliar to the young cadet.
Presently it drew up with a jerk and Clif, aroused from a reverie, looked about him. He saw the façade of a large church on one side, and a small garden, inclosed by an iron railing, on the other.
It was high ground and through the trees of the park could be seen the spires of a number of chapels in the lower part of the city.