eceived from the Captain-General," concluded
the speaker, paying no heed to the firing.

As Ridge was about to utter a protest, the officer who had left the
room a minute before, re-entered it, saluted with stiff precision, and
stood awaiting orders.

"Lieutenant Navarro," said the General, "you will remove this
gentleman, who is charged with being an American spy, and bid the
officer in charge of the guard-house hold him in closest custody until
he receives further instructions. Adios, Senor Remelios. May your
night's rest be peaceful."

Perceiving that resistance or protest would be useless, Ridge passively
allowed himself to be led away. A file of soldiers stood outside, and,
surrounded by these, he was marched to the guardhouse, where, after
being searched and relieved of everything contained by his pockets, he
was led into a bare, cell-like room.

A wooden stool and a heap of filthy straw in one corner constituted its
sole furnishing. Through a grating in the door came the flickering
light of a lamp burning in the corridor, while outer air was admitted
by a small iron-barred opening in one of the side walls some six feet
above the floor. The place reeked with dampness, and, in spite of
these openings, its air was foul and stifling. A few minutes after
Ridge entered it, and as he sat in dumb despair, vainly striving to
realize his unhappy situation, a soldier brought him a bowl of bean
porridge and a jug of water. Without a word, he set these down and
departed.

A little later other soldiers came and gazed curiously at him through
the grated door, always speaking of him as "el Yanko," and making merry
at his expense. Thus several hours passed, and he still sat
motionless, trying to think; but his brain was in a whirl, and he
seemed as powerless to concentrate his thoughts as he was friendless.
He realized dimly that at regular intervals a guard, pacing the outer
corridor, paused before the door of his cell to peer in at him, and so
make sure of his presence; but he paid slight attention to this
official scrutiny.

Suddenly his ear caught a sound strange to that place--a girlish voice
laughing merrily and evidently exchanging brisk repartee with the
soldiers in the guard-room. It was a pleasanter sound than any he had
heard, and he listened to it eagerly. After a little the voice seemed
to draw nearer, and he could distinguish the words, "el Yanko." He,
then, was the subject of that gay conversatio