Phil was silent. The time had not arrived to offer the aid of himself and his two friends. He knew the pride of the race to which the captain belonged. He knew by his face that he was a pure-blooded Castilian.
Some hours later in the cabin the expected question that Phil had waited for was asked.
“Mr. Perry, will you and your friends teach my men to use our guns?”
Phil readily agreed.
“That removes a great burden from my mind,” exclaimed Captain Garcia gratefully. “When will you begin?”
“Now, at once,” answered Phil promptly. “I must be given authority to order the men about, and to do this I desire to be given the temporary rank and wear the uniform of your first lieutenant. My friend, Mr. Monroe, must have the rank of lieutenant, and O’Neil an ensign. In this way only can we control our pupils.”
The captain was in high glee. He fell in immediately with the spirit of the undertaking.
Donning the uniforms, which fortunately were in store on board, the Americans set to work to carry out the scheme outlined by Phil.
The battery was divided into two divisions, one of which was to be commanded by each of his companions with the native officer as assistant. Phil himself was to be near the captain and was also to control the fire of the broadsides.
The next night our friends had reason to congratulate themselves upon their wonderful progress. The crew were imbued with a lively interest and fell to with a will to perfect themselves.