ace?"

"Frightful! captain," replied Pepe, with perfect simplicity of manner;
"for if I can scarce keep from dying of hunger in my place, what would
be the result were I deprived of it? Frightful!"

"To prevent this misfortune, then," continued the captain, "I have
resolved to furnish to those who calumniate you, a proof of the
confidence which may be placed in you, by giving you the post of
_Ensenada_--and this very night."

Pepe involuntarily opened his eyes to their fullest extent.

"That surprises you?" said Don Lucas.

"No," laconically replied the coast-guard.

The captain was unable to conceal from his inferior a slight confusion,
and his voice trembled as he pronounced the interrogation:--

"What! It does not surprise you?"

"No," repeated Pepe, and then added in a tone of flattery: "The captain
Despierto is so well-known for his vigilance and energy, that he may
confide the most important post to the very poorest of his sentinels.
That is why I am not astonished at the confidence he is good enough to
place in me: and now I await the instructions your Honour may be pleased
to give."

Don Lucas, without further parley, proceeded to instruct his sentinel in
his duty for the night. The orders were somewhat diffuse--so much so
that Pepe had a difficulty in comprehending them--but they were wound up
by the captain saying to the coast-guard, as he dismissed him from his
presence--

"And above all, my fine fellow, _don't go to sleep upon your post_!"

"I shall _try_ not to do so, captain," replied Pepe, at the same time
saluting his superior, and taking his leave.

"This fellow is worth his weight in gold," muttered Don Lucas, rubbing
his hands together with an air of satisfaction; "he could not have
suited my purpose better, if he had been expressly made for it!"

CHAPTER TWO.

THE SENTINEL OF LA ENSENADA.

The little bay of Ensenada, thus confided to the vigilance of Pepe the
sleeper, was mysteriously shut in among the cliffs, as if nature had
designed it expressly for smugglers--especially those Spanish
_contrabandistas_ who carry on the trade with a cutlass in one hand and
a carbine in the other.

On account of its isolation, the post was not without danger, especially
on a foggy November night, when the thick vapour suspended in the air
not only rendered the sight useless, but hindered the voice that might
call for assistance from being heard to any distance.

In the soldier who arrive