s I. If you wish it, Captain--."

"I do."

"I am ready, then."

I knew the fellow well: one of those dare-devil spirits, ready for
anything that promised adventure--a child of fortune--a stray waif
tumbling about upon the waves of chance--gifted with head and heart of
no common order--ignorant of books, yet educated in experience. There
was a dash of the heroic in his character that had won my admiration,
and I was fond of his company.

It was a desperate adventure--I knew that; but I felt stronger interest
than common in the fate of this boy. My own future fate, too, was in a
great degree connected with his safety. There was something in the very
danger that lured me on to tempt it. I felt that it would be adding
another chapter to a life which I have termed "adventurous."

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

A FOOLHARDY ADVENTURE.

At night Raoul and I, disguised in the leathern dresses of two
rancheros, stole round the lines, and reached Punta Hornos, a point
beyond our own pickets. Here we "took the water", wading waist-deep.

This was about ten o'clock. The tide was just setting out, and the
night, by good fortune, was as dark as pitch.

As the swell rolled in we were buried to the neck, and when it rolled
back again we bent forward; so that at no time could much of our bodies
be seen above the surface.

In this manner, half wading, half swimming, we kept up to the town.

It was a toilsome journey, but the water was warm, and the sand on the
bottom firm and level. We were strengthened--I at least--by hope and
the knowledge of danger. Doubtless my companion felt the latter
stimulant as much as I.

We soon reached the battlements of Santiago, where we proceeded with
increased caution. We could see the sentry up against the sky, pacing
along the parapet. His shrill cry startled us. We thought we had been
discovered. The darkness alone prevented this.

At length we passed him, and came opposite the city, whose battlements
rested upon the water's edge.

The tide was at ebb, and a bed of black, weed-covered rocks lay between
the sea and the bastion.

We approached these with caution, and, crawling over the slippery
boulders, after a hundred yards or so found ourselves in the entrance of
one of the conductors.

Here we halted to rest ourselves, sitting down upon a ledge of rock. We
were in no more danger here than in our own tents, yet within twenty
feet were men who, had they known our proximity