ivered over to the armed bands of the
revolutionaries, who were by this time springing up like mushrooms all
over the island; and the yacht, under Milsom's command, had been
dispatched to New York for further supplies. And during the whole of
this time, thanks to the fact that the secret had been kept from
everybody but sympathisers whose discretion might be relied on, the
rescue and return of the Montijo family remained unsuspected by the
Spanish authorities.

Then, one morning, a message reached Senor Calderon from Major Alvaros,
to the effect that the latter would arrive at the hacienda that night,
on a business visit, and that all necessary preparations were to be made
for his reception. This message Calderon at once handed to Don Hermoso,
with a request for instructions as to how the matter should be dealt
with; whereupon Jack and Carlos, who happened to be at hand that day, at
once undertook the duty of receiving the Spaniard suitably.

It was nearly five o'clock in the evening when Alvaros, hot, tired, and
dusty from his long ride from Pinar del Rio and his previous journey by
train, drew rein and dismounted before the broad flight of steps leading
up to the gallery which ran round the house, and, handing over his horse
to an obsequious negro who was in waiting, proceeded to ascend the
steps, his brow wrinkled into a frown of displeasure at Calderon's
failure to be present to give him a suitably respectful greeting upon
his arrival. He reached the top of the steps, paused for a moment to
glance around him at the wide prospect visible from the commanding
elevation of the gallery, and then strode forward to enter the house,
the wide folding doors of which stood, as usual, invitingly open. But
as he did so, and ere his foot reached the threshold, he was confronted
by Carlos, who, emerging suddenly from the obscurity of the entrance
hall, levelled a revolver straight at the Spaniard's right eye, so that
before that individual could recover from his astonishment, he found
himself gazing into the grooved barrel.

"Hands up, you villain and murderer!" exclaimed the young Cuban, glaring
savagely along the sights of the levelled weapon into Senor Alvaros'
eye: "hands up; or I will blow your worthless brains out with as little
compunction as that with which I would crush a venomous snake beneath my
heel! Quick! Don't hesitate, or I fire!"

Alvaros did not hesitate; there was that in the expression of Carlos'
eye,