We grasped the fellow’s arms, and quickly mastered him. It was at once evident that he had been sitting down, while we were approaching, to light his cigarrillo; or perhaps he might have dropped off to sleep. Releasing him from Lion, we threatened him with instant death if he opened his mouth or attempted to escape. Then, each of us taking an arm, we dragged him along towards the fort.
“If we carry this fellow with us, he will to a certainty be put to death,” I observed to Mr Laffan.
“I don’t like the idea of that,” said he.
“Nor do I,” I answered. “The best thing we can do is to get what information we can out of him, then bind him to a tree, and leave him. The Spaniards will discover him in time, and will yet be none the wiser.”
“A good idea,” said Mr Laffan.
The captive Spanish soldier looked imploringly at us, fully expecting that his minutes were numbered.
“We do not intend to kill you,” I said, “if you will give us a faithful account of the number of troops in this neighbourhood, and what it is intended they should do,—whether they are about to attack the fort again, or to march away; and if so, where they are going.”
“Have I your word of honour?” asked the Spaniard, looking at me, very much puzzled to know who I could be, as he heard me speak in English, and then address him in genuine Spanish.
“You have my word. We have no wish to murder our enemies,” said I.
“That’s more than I can say for my countrymen,” he answered. “I will tell you frankly, señor. There are a thousand men in yonder camp. It was intended to attack you again to-night. Our officers have resolved to capture the fort at all risks, and they have told the men it must be done. If you will undertake, señor, to protect my life, I will follow you, and serve you faithfully. I would rather do that than have again to assault yonder fort.”