dinner last evening the commandant happened to speak of
your shipwreck, and the general was greatly interested. 'A boy named
Crawford?' said he thoughtfully; 'is he in the fort now?' and on
hearing you were, told the commandant he would see you in the morning.
This is he crossing the courtyard. He is coming here, I believe."

I had only time to thank Santiago for his kindness when the general
entered the room. He was a short, spare man, with closely-cropped gray
hair and a grizzled beard. His face was tanned and wrinkled, but he
held himself erect as a youth; and his profession was most pronounced.

The young captain saluted, and, at a sign from the general, left the
room.

Barejo eyed me critically, and with a grim smile exclaimed, "By St.
Philip, there's no need to ask. You're the son of the Englishman
Crawford, right enough."

"Who was murdered by Spanish soldiers," said I, for his cool and
somewhat contemptuous tone roused me to anger.

He smiled at this outburst, and spread out his hands as if to say, "The
boy's crazy;" but when he spoke, it was to ask why I had left Lima.

"Because I had no wish to meet with my father's fate," I answered
brusquely; and he laughed again.

"Faith," he muttered, "the young cockerel ruffles his feathers early!"
and then, again addressing me, he asked, "And where were you going?"

"On a sea voyage, for the benefit of my health--and to be out of the
way."

To this he made no reply, but his brows puckered up as if he were in
deep thought. I stood by the window watching him, and wondering what
would be the outcome of this visit.

After a short time he said, slowly and deliberately, so that I might
lose nothing of his speech, "Listen to me, young sir. Though you are
young, there are some things you can understand. Your father tried,
and tried hard, to wrest this country from its proper ruler, our
honoured master, the King of Spain. He failed; but others have taken
his place, and though you are only a boy, they will endeavour to make
use of you. We shall crush the rebellion, and the leaders will lose
their lives. I am going to save you from their fate."

I thought this display of kindness rather strange, but made no remark.

"In this fortress," he continued, "you will be out of mischief, and
here I intend you shall stay till the troubles are at an end."

"That sounds very much as if you mean to keep me a prisoner!" I
exclaimed hotly.

"Exactly," said he; then tu