strong within him, and his fingers tingled to clasp the skipper's hand,
and failing that, he tightly gripped Poole's arm, as the lad's father
said--

"No, Don Ramon, I can't leave you in the lurch like this. You and your
fellows must come with me."

"No," said the Don proudly; "my place is here," and he drew himself up,
looking every inch in the broadening light the soldier and the man.

What more the skipper would have spoken remained unsaid, for _crack,
crack, crack_! sounding smothered amongst the trees, came the reports of
the rifles and the replies made by Don Ramon's vedettes as they were
driven in, and the skipper's eyes flashed as he placed a little whistle
to his lips and blew shrilly, bringing his own men together at the run.

Then taking in the position in one quick glance, he could see a puff of
smoke arising from the direction of the river and the boat, telling only
too plainly that even had he wished to escape with his men, the way to
safety was cut off.

But in those moments no such idea entered his head, any more than it did
that of Fitz or Poole. The way was open to the hacienda, and joining
hands with the Spanish Don, he began to retire towards the defence he
had prepared, and in a very few minutes the house had been reached, and
the breastworks manned by the mingled force, consisting of Don Ramon's
followers and the schooner's crew, whose shots began to tell in such a
way that the enemy's advance was checked, and the bright sun rose above
the distant jungle, lighting up the enemy at bay.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

THE NON-COMBATANT.

"Here, you, Mr Burnett, you are a non-combatant," said the skipper,
suddenly coming upon Fitz, after going round the walls of the hacienda
with Don Ramon, and seeing that they were manned to the best advantage.

"Oh, yes, sir, I don't want to fight," replied the boy carelessly, and
wincing rather with annoyance as he saw the Spaniard give him a peculiar
look.

"But you look as if you do, fingering that double-barrelled gun."

"Do you wish me to give it up, sir?"

"No, certainly not. Keep it for your defence. You don't know how you
will be situated, and it may keep one of the enemy from attacking you.
The sight of it will be enough. You, Poole, keep well in shelter. I
don't want you to be running risks."

"I shan't run risks, father, unless you do," replied Poole. "I shall
keep close beside you all the time."

"No," said the skipper sharply, "you w