mer and Don Anastasio plunging to the bottom
of the bay.

"Oh I s'y, sir," interrupted a voice in vigorous cockney, "this 'ere
tide ain't in the 'abit o' waitin'. If we go to-night, we go this
minute, sir!" It was the skipper, and the skipper's ultimatum.

"W'y yes," drawled the lieutenant colonel, "let's be marching. I forgot
to tell you, I'm in a hurry. Come on, Demijohn," and man and horse went
in search of beds.

Murguia looked venomous, but the plank was drawn on board.

CHAPTER V

THE STORM CENTRE

"God forbid I should be so bold as to press to heaven in my
young days."
--_Titus Andronicus._

The feathering buckets of the paddle wheels began to turn; and _La
Luz_, long, low, narrow, and a racer, moved noiselessly out into the
bay. A few yards only, and the loungers on the wharf could neither see
nor hear her. Except for the muffled binnacle light, there was neither a
ray nor a spark. The anthracite gave almost no smoke. The hull, hardly
three feet above water amidships, was "Union color," and invisible at
night. The waves slipped over her like oil, without the sound of a
splash, almost without breaking. She glided along more and more swiftly.
The silent engines betrayed no hint of their power, though breathing a
force to drive a vessel five times as large.

There were many entrances to the bay, and Murguia had had his steamer
built of light draft especially, to profit by any outlet offering least
danger from the vigilant patrol outside. The skipper had already chosen
his course. Because of the gale, he calculated that the blockaders would
get a considerable offing, lest they flounder mid the shoal waters
inshore. He knew too, even if it were not so dark, that a long, foamy
line of surf curtained the bay from any watchful eye on the open sea. By
the time she reached the beach channels, _La Luz_ had full speed
on. Then, knifing the higher and higher waves, she made a dash for it.

For a slender steamer, and in such weather, the risk was desperate. The
skipper hoped that the blockaders would never credit him with quite the
insanity of it. He held the wheel himself, while beside him his
keenest-sighted quartermaster stood guard with a glass. The agitated
owner was there also, huddled in his black shawl, but the binoculars
glued to his eyes trembled so that he could hardly have seen a
full-rigged armada in broad daylight.

Suddenly the quartermaster tou