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Prisoner of Morro, A

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<h2>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> <h3>IN WHICH CLIF MEETS WITH A SURPRISE.</h3> They were now in a perilous position. They could not return to the flagship, and at any moment the Spaniards, finding they were not pursued, might pluck up courage to seek them out and try conclusions with them once more. If they should find them on that narrow strip of beach the story of the conflict might be a different one. And then the disappearance of the boat itself pointed to enemies they had not counted upon. Who could have found and taken it? "Well, now we're in a pretty pickle," exclaimed Clif, when he became satisfied that the boat had really been taken. "Perhaps, sir, this is not the place where we left it," ventured one of the men, catching at that faint hope. "I wish you were right," said Clif, "but there's no doubt about it. The boat has been taken." "There's no doubt of it," the men echoed. "The boat is gone." But to make assurance doubly sure, they searched the beach under Clif's direction, examining every clump of bushes that was large enough to conceal the boat. But the result was a foregone conclusion. The boat was gone. "Now what's to be done, sir?" asked one of the men. What, indeed! "Something's got to be done," said Clif, with determination. "We've got to get off this island before daybreak. It's easy to dodge the Spaniards in the darkness, but entirely a different matter by day. Besides, we seem to have enemies down here as well as back there on the hill." He was scanning the water earnestly as he spoke. It was time, he knew, for the flagship to return to her position opposite that point, and await the return of Clif and his crew. Was she there? He could not tell. The face of the moon was again obscured by clouds as it had been most of the night, and it was impossible for Clif to discern any object at a distance across the water. He strained his eyes trying to catch a glimpse of the ship they had left not many hours ago, but the thought occurred to him, "What good will it do if I do see her?" But even as he looked the sky suddenly brightened in a tiny spot out to sea. A long pencil of light shot up from the water, and a cloud was tinged with a speck of dull white light. "It's the New York!" cried Clif. "The signal of her searchlight to return." They watched that tiny beam of light as though there was hope of succor in its rays, until it suddenly disappeared, and all was dark as before. "Now they are waiting for our appearance," said Clif. "But, unfortunately, we haven't got wings. Hello! What does that mean?" Clif had turned suddenly in a listening attitude toward the land. The others had heard the same sound that had attracted Clif. It was the solitary report of a rifle shot not far in their rear. "The Spaniards must be returning," said Clif. "They have made up their minds that we had no reinforcements because we did not pursue them further. I'll go up and reconnoitre, to see what they are up to." "I'll go, sir," volunteered one of the men before Clif could get away. "You stay here. You may be able to see some way of getting us off." With this he cautiously hurried up the side of the bank, leaving Clif and his companions in the shelter of the bushes below. With ears alert to any sound by land, they anxiously strained their eyes across the water. Could any way be found to cross the expanse that lay between them and the flagship? All were silent for many minutes, and then at last the searchlight of the flagship flashed out once more and swept across the waters before it disappeared. "So near and yet so far," exclaimed Clif. "They are getting impatient for our return." "If we could signal them," suggested one of the men, "they would send a boat." "But we have no means of doing that," said Clif. "We can't shout at them, and a pistol shot would not be heard, except by our friends the enemy." "Perhaps they will send a boat anyhow," persisted the hopeful member of the crew. "Perhaps," assented Clif, "after they get tired of waiting for us." In a short time the scout returned with news that was at least disquieting in their situation. "The Spaniards are after us, sir," he reported. "They seem to have rallied most of their men, and are now near the woods where we met them, cautiously advancing. They have scouts out looking for us, for I barely escaped running into one of them." "They have guessed the trick we played on them," said Clif, "and it will go hard with us if they find us. How near are they, did you say?" "They seem to be in the woods now, but they are advancing steadily. They are scouring the place thoroughly, and may be down on us any moment." "Well, boys, we'll do the best we can, if they do get here," said Clif, quietly. A calm settled upon the band, for now they knew their situation was critical. Their ammunition was nearly exhausted, and if the enemy should succeed in attacking them from the vantage of the hillside, there was little hope of a successful resistance. Should they succeed in eluding the enemy in the darkness, there was no doubt that daybreak would seal their fate. "There's no two ways about it," exclaimed Clif. "We've got to get off this island, and that pretty soon." "See, sir," cried the hopeful member, who had been intently gazing across the water. "They have sent a boat!" Clif looked in the direction in which the other was eagerly pointing. Sure enough, he could discern the outlines of a boat slowly moving toward them some little distance from shore. An involuntary little cheer went up from the others as they, too, saw the boat approaching. "We are saved!" exclaimed Clif, "and these dispatches will soon be in the rear admiral's hands." But suddenly the eager watchers saw the boat stop, then after a few moments veer around, and continue its course down the coast until it was almost abreast of the spot where they stood. Then it as suddenly stopped, and after a moment's pause retraced its course. "What's the matter with those fellows?" exclaimed Clif. "Are they afraid to land?" "Hadn't we better signal them, sir?" suggested the man. "They don't know where we are." The boat had again turned and was apparently patroling up and down, seemingly waiting for just such assistance in locating the position of the waiting sailors. But just as Clif was about to attract their attention by a mighty shout, his practiced ear caught sounds from the hill above that caused him to stop. The Spanish soldiers were unmistakably advancing. "Silence!" he cautioned, in a whisper. "The Spaniards are on the hill above us and the slightest noise will betray us." "But the boat, sir!" exclaimed the man. "We must signal it." "I'll bring it here," said Clif, with a sudden resolve. He began divesting himself of his blouse and trousers as he spoke. "What do you mean to do, sir?" asked the men, wonderingly. "Swim for it," replied Clif. "That's the only way." "But, sir——" "Don't delay me," said Clif. "Every moment is precious now." With this he quietly slid into the water and with quick, powerful strokes shot through the waves toward the boat. Clif was in his element. In the whole ship's crew none excelled him in swimming and diving, and it was with a feeling of confidence that he forced his way through the water. He made not a sound as he went along—for it was to avoid alarming the Spaniards that he had hit upon this plan. The boat was not far from shore and he reached it in a few moments. He was overjoyed to recognize that it was, as he expected, one of the boats from the flagship. There were two occupants of the boat, one at the oars and the other in the stern. Clif did not recognize them, but he did not pause on that account. Time was precious, and the boat must be gotten to shore and the balance of the party taken aboard without delay. "Boat ahoy!" he exclaimed joyously, as he reached the side without having been seen by the occupants. "Take me aboard, men, and then pull for the shore for all you are worth." Clif's sudden appearance and the words he spoke had a startling effect upon the oarsman by whose side Clif made his appearance. The latter started with an oath, and as Clif seized the side of the boat and raised himself partly from the water, his gaze fell upon the glistening barrel of a revolver and back of it he saw a face distorted with rage and hate. "Carramba!" fell upon Clif's ear. "It is an Americano! Death to the American pigs!" The occupants of the boats were Spaniards. <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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