The voices outside rose high. Apparently the woman, who had, so they supposed, ridden up on the galloping horse, was having an argument with the guards.

“She is asking to see us!” exclaimed Stanley, in tones of amazement, after listening closely to the voices outside for a few minutes.

“And they are going to let her in!” he added the next instant.

Hardly had he spoken before the door of their dungeon was thrown open, and a shaft of blinding sunlight streamed in. The prisoners all rose to their feet as there entered the squalid cell a young woman in a riding habit. The four prisoners instantly recognized her as General de Guzman’s niece.

“Oh, the poor Americans!” she exclaimed,[183] with a little shudder, as she gathered her riding skirt about her. The boys noted that it was dusty, and, taken in conjunction with the rapid pace of her horse, meant that she had ridden fast to what was to prove a momentous interview.

“To what are we indebted for this visit, senorita?” began Midshipman Stark.

He spoke in Spanish, but the girl checked him with a finger to her lips.

“Speak in English,” she said, “otherwise they will listen, and if they should report this to my uncle it might go hard with you.”

“It couldn’t go much worse,” muttered Stanley in a grim aside.

“Where is the one that spoke of my father,” went on the girl, tears brimming into her large eyes. “Ah! there he is. Tell me, sir, you have news of him?”

Ned came forward somewhat unwillingly as she spoke. It was going to be a hard task to tell this woman about the derelict and the almost certain proof it offered of her father’s death.[184] Perhaps she read his thoughts, for as he hesitated she exclaimed:

“Do not seek to spare my feelings by not speaking plainly. I must tell you that since he fled the country on that sailing ship he has been mourned as dead by those who loved him. We have heard nothing of the ship for months. She never reached her destination, and there is little doubt that she was lost at sea.”

As mercifully as he could Ned told her of the encounter with the derelict and what had been found on board it. As the others watched her they conceived an intense admiration for this young South American. She heard Ned out bravely, though her lip quivered at this confirmation of her worst fears.

“Alas, for my poor mother!” she exclaimed, as Ned finished, “this will be terrible intelligence for her. She has hoped against hope, even though my uncle told her that it was certain we should never see my father again.”

“You live near here?” inquired the midshipman.
 
“Yes—that is, our plantation is four or five miles away. I rode straight from there after I had left the villa. But why do I say ‘our’ plantation when it is, in fact, my uncle’s?”

“But it belonged to your father?” asked Ned.

“That is true. But your confirmation of his death will strengthen the claim of General de Guzman upon it. You see, under our law, the property goes to him.”

“But not if there is a will expressly deeding it elsewhere?”

“Ah, no, senor, but there is not one. My poor father fled from the country disguised as a common sailor before he had even time to make provision for us. There is a suspicion that my uncle betrayed him.”

“I think you are mistaken,” said Ned gently. “There is a will, and I know its whereabouts. The document is now in possession of Lieutenant Timmons, of the United States torpedo-boat destroyer Beale. But he will surrender the document to your mother or yourself upon your application.”
 
“But why not upon yours, senor? Cannot you obtain it from him?”

Ned looked embarrassed.

“Um, well, you see——” he began.

“We are likely to be here for a few days. We are being detained for some time by your uncle,” put in the midshipman, coming to the rescue.

“But when you are free again? It is only a misunderstanding, I am sure.”

“When we are free again, senorita, we shall be delighted to do anything in our power to aid you,” went on Midshipman Stark, “but in the meantime it would be better for you to communicate with Mr. Timmons yourself if it becomes possible.”

“Thank you, gentlemen!” exclaimed the Spanish-American girl, with a grateful glance. “Be assured that my father’s will would be little to us were it not that my uncle threatens to banish both my mother and myself from our home unless——”

She paused, and was apparently overcome with[187] confusion. Recovering herself, she went on proudly:

“But, after all—after all you have told me, you have a right to know. He is determined that I shall marry the man you saw me with to-day.”

“Chawed bone!” burst out Stanley, in a forecastle roar of indignation.

“Yes, senor, you are right,” said the young woman. “That is something like the name of the man.”

“But you don’t like him?” demanded the old sailor excitedly.

The young woman gazed at him in surprise, while Midshipman Stark shot a disapproving glance at the boatswain’s mate.

“No, I do not!” she declared, with a little stamp of her foot. At that moment the sergeant in charge of the sentries came in and uttered a few excited words.

“He says that he has received word that my uncle is on his way here, senors. Perhaps he is coming to release you. I hope so. But it will not do for him to find me here. Adios!”
 
In a flash she was gone, and the cell-room door clanged once more. Presently the rattle of her horse’s hoofs sounded, rapidly dying away in the distance.

“Well!” exclaimed the midshipman, drawing a long breath, “matters are getting complicated.”

“If she ever marries that Chawedbones——!” roared Stanley, shaking his fist.
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