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Updated: June 10, 2025
Clif's attack brought the Spaniard quickly to his senses, and he was not slow to defend himself. In a flash he drew his revolver, but Clif was too quick for him. The latter knocked the weapon from the fellow's grasp before he had a chance to fire it. Clif's own weapon was within easy reach, but for several reasons he did not care to use it.
But it was with great difficulty at first that he could inforce his commands upon the now thoroughly aroused sailors. They wanted to continue their impetuous charge. But a second volley from the remaining troops showed them the wisdom of Clif's decision, and with a return volley they fell back into the darkness and shelter of the trees.
"You gave us quite a run," he added, after a moment's thought. "A Spaniard would not surrender to Yankee pigs without a fight," snarled the other. "You had best be a bit careful," was Clif's stern response, "or you may find yourself in irons." The Spaniard relapsed into a sullen silence. "What ship is this?" demanded the cadet. "The Maria." "From where?" "Cadiz." "Indeed! And bound where?"
As if to add horror to the devil's gleeful statement, a huge slimy rat ran across Clif's body just then; it made him shiver all over. And Ignacio danced about as he saw him. "Ha, ha!" he cried. "You begin! But wait till I start wait till you begin to feel some agony till I begin to tear your eyes out! Then will you yell?
But his surprise affected him but for an instant. He did not propose to be shot down if he could help it. The report of the pistol that met Clif's gaze rang out upon the air, but the bullet did not reach its intended mark. Like a flash Clif had released his hold upon the boat, and dropped beneath the water, just in the nick of time.
Clif's sudden appearance and the words he spoke had a startling effect upon the oarsman by whose side Clif made his appearance. The latter started with an oath, and as Clif seized the side of the boat and raised himself partly from the water, his gaze fell upon the glistening barrel of a revolver and back of it he saw a face distorted with rage and hate. "Carramba!" fell upon Clif's ear.
Clif's was a jaded old nag, and kept stumbling and stopping, making the task of riding a difficult one, but he did not notice it very much, for he was busily thinking. His present situation was indeed a discouraging one, and he felt its degradation keenly. It was not that his conscience troubled him, for he knew that he had done all that could be expected of him.
The man staggered back. "Madre di dios!" he gasped. "He's killed me." Clif's daring action set the crowd in a perfect frenzy. "Stone 'em!" yelled Ignacio. And seemingly all at once they sprang at the prisoners with sticks and stones and knives and fists. The soldiers made a feeble effort to stop them, but the crowd saw them laughing as they did so.
"And you said that I was, I hope," said Clif, quietly. Most women would have been embarrassed by a question such as that. But Bessie Stuart was not. There was some of the old-time self-possession in her voice as she responded. She turned and looked fairly into Clif's eyes. "I know you well enough to speak my mind," she said. "Yes, I told him that you were."
The fast moving steamer, urged to its utmost speed, the exclamations of hope and fear among its crew, the more majestically moving flagship whose deficiencies of speed were more than atoned for by the range of her guns, suggested possibilities to one in Clif's position that might well set one's heart to beating wildly.
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