“Captain Broome’s sister,” repeated the Senor. “It is not possible. The captain is a comrade, a friend, engaged by me to carry arms and armament to my confreres in Cuba. Ah, what am I saying to you, James? My secret, in my anxiety for my daughter, my secret I have told, you must not repeat or disclose.”
“Your secret is safe, Senor, but your daughter is on board the Sea Eagle now, and Broome, whatever he may be, is not to be trusted.”
“I am amazed. It is true the Sea Eagle is in the harbor. So I was told by the innkeeper this morning. But I knew for what purpose, and I was glad to think that someone was near on whom I could rely in case of need. Then I have my trusted man, as you surmised, in the tree to give aid if called upon. But how know you all and so many of these things?”
“Perhaps I know more. You arranged all the plans through a certain lawyer in San Francisco?”
“Yes. Yes.”
“And he sold you out.”
“What do you mean?”
“That he plotted with Broome to get your daughter into his hands, that they might wring another five thousand out of you.”
“How dare they!” He thought a few moments, his face livid with suppressed rage. Then he continued, “They probably counted on my intense interest in Cuban affairs, of which I told you, to save themselves. But they are mistaken. I will kill them both.”