"Ah," cried the President, catching at the skipper's arm and gripping it fast as he pointed to the open window with his sword. "Brave words, my friend, but you hear--you hear--" and another murmur of despair ran through the crowd.

"Oh yes," said the skipper, "I can hear."

"The cries," said the President, "of the savage enemy."

"No," roared the skipper with a mocking laugh. "Your enemies, man, can't cheer like that," and he rushed to the window. "There they go again. Why, Don, that's not a Spanish but good old English shout. Yes, there they go again. I don't know what it means, but I can hear, far off as they are, those were the voices of some of my crew."

"What?" cried the President.

"Come here, all of you," cried the captain, "and look out. There's nothing to fear. Follow my lead and give another cheer back. That shouting came from the gunboat deck. Look, Don Ramon, you can see my fellows waving their caps, and those two boys are busy on the bridge doing something, I can't make out what. Yes, I can, they're bending on a flag. There: up it goes. Why, gentlemen, we have been scaring ourselves at a puff of powder smoke. Why, by all that's wonderful--" He stopped short and held up his hand.

"Silence, please," he cried after a pause, and a dead stillness reigned once more as every one who could get a glimpse of the gunboat strained his neck to stare.

"I am stunned, confused," whispered the President. "What is it, captain? For pity's sake speak."

"No, sir, I'll let your best friend do that."

"My best friend? You speak in riddles."

"Yes, wait a minute, and the answer, a big one, to this great riddle will come," cried the captain. "Can't you see, man? the lads are busy there getting ready for your friend to speak. Another moment or two and you will hear what he says--that Don Ramon is President of this Republic, and his seat in the chair is safe against any enemy that may come. Ah, all together. Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!"

The skipper's cheer was loud, but it was stifled before it was half-uttered, for once more that terrific roar arose, making the Presidential building quiver and the gla.s.s in several of the windows come tinkling down into the stone-paved court.

Most of those present had this time seen the flash--the roar had set the ears of all ringing once again, as a great puff of smoke dashed out like a ball and then rose slowly in the sunshine, forming itself into a great grey ring, quivering as another burst of cheering arose from the gunboat's deck.

For it was neither attack from the cunning enemy nor the catastrophe caused by explosion, as the fresh burst of cheering from the gunboat fully explained, for they were British cheers from the prize crew, echoed by those on board the schooner.

There was nothing the matter, only a happy thought had occurred to the middy, and he wondered that it had not come before, as he hurried to the proper spot, made a little search, and found that he was right--that there was a spare breech-block on board which enabled him and Poole, after gaining access to the magazine, to thrust a blank cartridge into the great gun and announce the fact in what was literally a _feu de joie_.

CHAPTER FIFTY EIGHT.

A REGULAR YOUNG FILIBUSTER.

"Oh, pray don't say any more to me about it, sir," cried Fitz, the next day. "It was only just an idea."

"An idea, my dear young friend!" cried the President.

"Yes, sir; a mere trifle."

"A trifle!" said the President. "Oh, how lightly you English boys do take such things. Your trifle, as you call it, has made me fast in the Governmental chair. I shall always think that I owe you my success."

"What, because I thought there was another breech-block, sir?"

"Oh, not merely that. There was your first idea about getting away from the hacienda and coming round here by sea. They may seem trifles to your young elastic spirit, but their effect has been great."

"Once more, sir; please don't say any more. My only wonder is now, that somebody else on board the gunboat did not think about the spare block and get it into use."

"Ah, yes; one of the officers has been talking to me about it. He said he was the only man on board who knew of its existence, and--simply because it had not been wanted--he had almost forgotten, or, as he put it, it was for the time driven out of his head by the great trouble they were in, caused by the fouling of the screw, and the current carrying them on to the rocks."

"Oh, I am glad of that," said Fitz. "Glad? Why?" said the President, looking at him wonderingly.

"Because it makes Poole Reed stand out so much better than I do. It was entirely his notion to foul the screw."

"Oh, come, come, come!" cried Don Ramon. "I am not going to weigh you both in the balance to see which was the better. I shall always look upon you as a pair of young heroes."

"Oh, I say," cried Poole, "please don't!"

"Very well," said the Spaniard, laughing; "I'll say no more, but I shall think."

"I don't mind his thinking," said Fitz, a short time later when he was talking to his companion about what had been said. "But I hope next time he wants to go into ecstasies about what we did, he'll let them all off at you."

"Thankye," said Poole; "much obliged." The lads had something else to think of the next day, for in the midst of the rejoicings over Don Ramon's success, and when the gunboat was dressed with colours from head to stern, the new President's flag predominant, and her old officers accepting the alteration in the state of affairs with the greatest nonchalance, and in fact on the whole pleased with the change of rulers, signals were shown from the high look-out at the entrance of the harbour indicating that a vessel was in sight. In the midst of the excitement that this caused, steam was hastily got up on board the gunboat, and the decks cleared for action ready for an engagement if necessary in Don Ramon's cause.

The excitement soon ceased to be alarming, for in due course the stranger's flag was made out, her signal for a pilot answered, and in the course of the afternoon a United States cruiser steamed in, answering the salute from the fort and gunboat, and taking up her position close under their guns.

The rest of the customary civilities were interchanged, and the captain of the Yankee came ash.o.r.e to visit the new President, laughingly saying that he had come to see Don Villarayo, but as he was in the mountains and a new President governed in his stead, and as he supposed it was only a matter of form before Don Ramon would be acknowledged by the American Government, he had nothing to do but wait for instructions after he had communicated with Washington.

The captain made himself very agreeable, chatting with Don Ramon's notabilities, and the schooner's skipper; but several times he glanced searchingly in the direction of Fitz Burnett, who had been awaiting his opportunity either to be introduced or to go up and speak.

His turn came at last, for the captain fixed his eyes upon him with a look of invitation to which Fitz instantly responded by closing up, colouring slightly the while with consciousness, as it seemed to him that the American captain, all spick and span in his neat naval uniform, was looking askant at the well-worn garments the lad was wearing.

"How do, youngster?" he said. "I didn't know one of your cruisers was in these waters. Has she left you here as a hostage, or something of the kind? You English chaps are everywhere."

For long enough Fitz Burnett had been waiting for this moment, ready to pour out his troubles and adventures to somebody who would give him help; and now that the time had come he could hardly speak.

The American captain noticed it, and raised his eyebrows a little.

"Why was it?" he said kindly, as he saw how thoroughly agitated the boy was. "In trouble?"

"Yes, sir," cried Fitz.

"You don't mean to tell me you've done such a stupid school-boy act as to desert your ship?"

"Oh, no, no, no!" cried Fitz excitedly; and out it all came, the captain listening eagerly and questioning him wherever the boy hesitated, till he had finished his adventurous tale.

"Well, this is something fresh, my lad," cried the American captain.

"But I reckon that the time will come when you'll think you've been in luck. For you've done nothing wrong. You were regularly taken prisoner while doing your duty, and your skipper can't blame you."

"Think not, sir?" cried Fitz, warming up in the grat.i.tude he felt for the captain's sympathy.

"Think not? Of course! If he does, and won't have you back, I'll find you a berth on my ship, and be glad to have you. What do you say? Will you come?"

Fitz looked at him searchingly, and shook his head.

"I am in the Queen's service, sir," he said.

"And a fine service too, my lad. But how has this skipper behaved to you since you've been with him?"