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Prisoner of Morro, A

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<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> <h3>A STARTLING DISCOVERY.</h3> It may seem strange that they were able to sleep in the perilous situation they were in; but they were men who were used to holding their lives in their hands. They say that Napoleon could take a nap, during a lull in battle, while he was waiting for his reserves to be brought up. The men were cold and damp, of course, but it was impossible for them to light a fire, even had they dared to take such a risk. But the darkness was their principal shield. But all the cold in the world could not have kept Clif awake; he and the rest of the men were soon fast asleep, hidden away in the enemy's country, and surrounded by perils innumerable, yet resting as quietly as if they were at home. And none of them awakened either, as the dark night wore on. The day began to break over the mountains to the eastward, and the gay sunbeams streamed into the room to find the sailors still undisturbed and unconscious. The sun had risen and was half an hour up in the sky before any of the Americans showed signs of awakening. One of the sailors turned over and then sat up and stared about him. It was not strange that the man wondered where he was, for a moment; he had been through so much during the previous day. He found himself seated in a little bare apare apartment half charred by fire, and having damp straw for flooring. His companions, including the officer, were stretched out upon it. They seemed in blissful ignorance of the fact that it was damp. The sailor rose to his feet; he was rather stiff and sore, and somewhat hungry, but he felt that he ought to be glad to be alive. And then he stole quickly over to the tiny window to look out; naturally enough he was a little curious to see what sort of a place it was they had hit on in the darkness. There was light, then, plenty of it—too much in fact, so the man thought. It showed him everything. And the everything must have included something rather startling. For the sailor acted in a most surprising way. He took a single glance out of the window; and then he staggered back as if some one had shot him. The man's face was as white as a sheet. He stood for a moment seemingly dazed, his eyes staring vacantly. And then suddenly he made a leap across the room and seized Clif by the shoulder. It was a startling way for Clif to be awakened; the face of that man had a sort of nightmare look. "What is it?" Clif gasped. "Quick!" "The window!" panted the sailor. "Look!". The man in his excitement had awakened the rest and they were sitting up staring at him. Clif meanwhile had rushed to the window, and when he looked out he acted just as the sailor had done. It might be well to describe in a few words what he saw. There was a small clearing around the deserted building, and beyond that a heavy wood. Clif remembered having made his way through those woods. And now somebody else had done likewise. There was a squad of a dozen soldiers standing on the clearing's edge. And they were Spaniards! "Can they have surrounded us?" gasped the cadet. "Or perhaps they don't know we're here," whispered one of the men. The full meaning of that startling discovery was made evident to them an instant later. The officer of the Spaniards was standing to one side watching a man, who, with bowed head, was carefully scanning the ground. And he was coming slowly toward the building. "They're tracking us," whispered Clif. And just then the man raised up his head and Clif got a glimpse of his face. "The villain!" he gasped. It was Ignacio! Yes, it was the villainous Spanish spy. He and his Spanish companions must have succeeded in getting ashore. And they had tracked their unsuspecting enemies to their hiding-place. "I wish I had killed him!" Clif muttered half to himself. One of the sailors heard him, and he drew his revolver significantly. "It's not too late, sir," he said. But Clif held up his hand. "No, no," he whispered. "Not yet!" That suggestion called him back to action. Not yet—because they had not yet been discovered. Ignacio was apparently off the scent; he did not know whether his victims had dodged the building or had the temerity to enter. And instantly Clif leaped forward, over to the other side of the building. If none of the enemy was there it might not be too late for flight. "If they are," Clif muttered to himself, "by jingo, they've still got the building to capture." Whatever was to be done had to be done quickly, for Ignacio was a cunning fellow, and wouldn't be apt to delay very long. Clif gazed out in the other direction and saw to his delight that the thicket came close to the house, and there were no Spaniards in sight. He called in a low voice to the men, who stole silently over toward him. "Quick!" he gasped. "Out, for your lives!" It was a thrilling moment, and Clif was trembling with eagerness. One by one he watched the men crawl out of the low window and gather in the shelter of the building. And a moment later he himself dropped down; the instant he struck the ground he started forward. "To the woods!" he whispered. "And not a sound, for your lives." And the men sprang softly forward, not even pausing to glance over their shoulders to see if they were discovered. Clif fancied at that instant that he was safe. The building was between him and the Spaniards. But he did not know that at that moment Ignacio had observed a footprint in the damp ground that made him aware that they had gone into the building; he rushed around to the other side just in time to see a blue uniform vanish in the thicket. The next moment a wild yell came from his throat. "Mira!" he shrieked. "Forward! Here they are now!" <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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