“Quite true,” agreed Phil, “but it is better to render this man harmless; he doubtless stands high in the confidence of General Barras. You heard the minister say that he did not wish his name connected with the information; that was of course an act of caution in case the rebels failed; but now I feel sure the minister will divulge his name.”
Reaching the legation they met Marshall, in charge in Lazar’s absence; his men ready under arms in case of need.
He greeted them in astonishment. The midshipmen for the first time appreciated what a sorry sight they presented; their white uniforms stained with mud and sprinkled with blood; while O’Neil’s burly figure was incased in a suit of khaki many sizes too small.
“Who won?” Marshall questioned anxiously. “We have been hearing the firing for the last two hours. The bullets have been whistling over us by the hundreds.”
“It’s all over,” Phil answered. “General Ruiz was repulsed and General Barras holds his lines strongly.”
Marshall and his men were not at all pleased to hear the news. They had anticipated interesting work if the city were taken by the rebels and their longing for adventure had received a keen disappointment.
“All this work for nothing,” Marshal cried dejectedly. “We have been kept here ready for over two weeks, expecting any moment to have exciting times, and now there isn’t going to be anything.”
“Where’s the minister?” questioned Phil intent on his mission.
“Inside, in his office,” answered Marshall, leading the way into the legation.
The diplomat received them immediately, his manner anxious and excited.