The young ladies, who had not before recognised Paddy, now knew him by the sound of his voice.
“What!” they all cried out together; “are you the young officer who got out of prison in such a wonderful way? The people affirmed that you got out with the help of a magician, as they have never discovered how you made your escape; and the gaoler, who declares that you were safely shut up when he last visited you, swears that it is impossible you should have done so, either by the door or windows.”
“How we escaped I’ll tell you by-and-by, but pray excuse me for the present, as your papa and the consul are ready to start,” answered Gerald.
This conversation took place while the vice-consul was putting on his uniform coat, and, with the aid of his wife, buckling his sword-belt round the wide circuit of his waist.
Murray and the two officials then set forth, Desmond carrying the flag of truce, and Needham the British ensign, that flag which every nation of the earth has learnt to respect, though some may regard it with no very friendly feelings. After a walk of about twenty minutes they reached General Carmona’s residence. In front of the building was drawn up a guard of soldiers, who cast scowling glances at the party as they advanced. In a short time an officer appeared, who promised to announce their arrival to the general. They were then conducted into a courtyard, and told to wait. The officer soon returned and led the way to a large hall, with a long table in the centre, at the end of which sat a personage in military uniform, with several officers collected round him, some seated, and others standing about talking eagerly together.
“To what cause am I indebted for the honour of this visit?” asked the general, who rose with his officers as Murray and the consuls entered.
“This officer, the commander of the British man-of-war, now in the harbour, comes to demand the liberation of certain subjects of the Queen of England, detained by your government as prisoners,” answered the consul, introducing Lieutenant Murray.
The general, a tall, cadaverous personage, with long moustaches sticking out on either side of his face, tried to look very fierce and important, but ill succeeded in concealing his trepidation and annoyance.
“I might rather ask why the English brig-of-war has sunk one of my vessels, and captured the remainder of my fleet; though it seems a miracle to me how it should have happened.”
“Tell him,” said Murray, as this answer was interpreted, “that as his corvette fired into the Queen of England’s brig, it was my duty to punish her for her audacity, and that if my demands are not complied with, I intend to blow up the remainder of his squadron, and then to bombard the town.”