We were all inside now; and it didn't take Robert long to tell his story.
"And so you are sure they've got Wayne in that old ruin?" said Norris, addressing this black man, Carlos Brill.
"Yes, I think ver' sure," said the man. "I see they go that way with him."
"Well, Captain Marat," began Norris, "I say storm the place at once."
"Yes," assented Captain Marat, "we have to do something."
"But we'll have to go slow," Robert said. "That place must be lousy with those cannibals; and no one knows how many guns they'll have."
Well, Norris was willing to go slow, if he could only go soon. And we were not long getting started.
That black fellow, Carlos Brill, led the way, and that black fellow, Robert Murtry, with him. Julian and I were rear guard. And they gave me Wayne's rifle to carry.
It wasn't long till we got out of the woods into an open spot; and then they showed us what they'd figured out was Wayne's prison. It was way over on the other side of a ravine; and say! it was the queerest looking, half tumble-down old palace!
We went down into the ravine; and on the other side Carlos Brill took us out of the path—afraid of an ambush, or something—and we began to slip and stumble among the roots, and brush, and snaky-looking lianas that hung between the trees. Why the place wasn't full of monkeys I don't know. There wasn't any use of anyone telling us to go slow, this wasn't any fast track.