“What does this mean?” cried an officer, spurring ahead and drawing in his spirited animal between the Americans and the natives. “I gave these Englishmen safe conduct. Who dares disobey my orders?”
Juarez had cautiously stepped aside at the approach of the horseman; he now advanced boldly, wearing the air of one who has news of the utmost importance to divulge.
“Your Excellency,” for the officer was none other than General Ruiz himself, “these men are Americans and spies. I am lucky to have recognized them before they were able to reënter the city and report our strength to the enemy.”
The general looked incredulous. He was about to speak, when Juarez dropped a veritable bombshell at his feet by hastily adding:
“These two young men are the American midshipmen who captured your machine guns at Mariel, so you see I have reason to know them.”
The general turned fiercely on the bewildered Americans, a dark scowl on his sallow face.
“So these are the men who captured my guns under my very eyes,” he cried in rage.
His face was livid with passion. His hand sought his saber as if he would cut them down on the spot.
“Arrest them immediately,” he ordered in a choking voice; “I shall make an example of these meddling Americans. Colonel Juarez, I appoint you their jailer. I know it is unnecessary to caution you to guard them well.”
“Will they shoot us, sir?” whispered O’Neil anxiously to Phil, his hand resting grimly on his revolver handle, “for if they will, I have six bullets here I’d like to get rid of first.”