"He won't pay me my wages," said Mariquita, in a whining, piteous
voice. "He owes me three shillings."

"I don't, you lying little ragamuffin! I only took you on trial."

"He does; and he was beating me, ill-using me," went on Mariquita.

"We can't have no disturbance here," said one of the provost-marshal's
men. "You must come before the provost, both of you; he'll settle your
case in a brace of shakes. Bill, you bring the old man; I'll take
charge of the youngster."

And the two guardians of order marched their prisoners through the
hut-town to a wooden building at the end, where Major Shervinton dealt
out a simple, rough-and-ready justice to the turbulent characters he
ruled.

This was precisely what Mariquita had hoped for. What she sought at
all hazards was to gain speech of the provost-marshal.

They had to wait for him half-an-hour, and when he appeared there were
other cases to be dealt with first.

When it came to Valetta Joe's turn, he stoutly denied the charge of
defrauding and ill-using the lad.

"I don't know about the wages, sir," said one of the assistants, "but
we caught him in the act of cuffing the boy."

"What does he owe you, my lad?" asked Major Shervinton.

"Nothing," replied Mariquita, trembling and in very imperfect English.
"I only wanted to get him here to denounce him as a friend of the
Russians and a spy."

"There's not a word of truth in what he says!" cried Joe, looking at
her with open-mouthed astonishment.

"We have long had our eye upon you, my friend, you know that; and I
shall inquire into this more closely."

"At this moment there is a man--his name is Benito Villegas--in the
bakehouse below the shop," said Mariquita. "He is wounded; you will
find him there. Go and seize him; make him tell you what he has done
with the English officer, Mr. McKay."

"Mr. McKay!" said the provost-marshal, deeply interested at once. "He
is absent--missing! Have you heard anything of him or his fate?"

"Make Benito tell you. He has betrayed him into the Russians' hands."

"This is very important intelligence. What you say shall be verified
at once. See to the prisoners, one of you, and let some one come with
me to Joe's shop."

Major Shervinton made short work of Benito.

"Look here, my fine fellow, you had better make a clean breast of it
all. What have you done with Mr. McKay?"

Benito shook his head, groaned, and pointed to his wounded arm.

"I see you have been hit; but that