"
And then she turned and left him.
One evening as the dark came creeping over the purple waters, the
_Tampico_ cluttered up to the mouth of the harbor of San Blanco City.
Captain Merrithew and Mr. Howland stood on the bridge, while Virginia
and most of her guests were assembled at the rail, all eyes straining
shoreward. A rattle of musketry tore through the evening air--a
muzzle-loading cannon spoke grouchily; then all was still. A sailboat
was drifting out to sea and the fishermen, being hailed, informed those
on the steamship that revolutionists were pounding at the city walls
and pounding hard, but thus far without avail. The uprising, as usual,
they said, had its inception in the fastnesses of Monte-Cristi and,
spreading through the country, had brought up with a bang against the
walls of the city itself.
Mr. Howland was seriously perturbed.
"We must get in quickly and land our guns, Captain," he said. "It's
too bad we have this party with us. However, you must not consider
their comfort. If you land this cargo of ordnance, we can break the
revolution easily and pleasantly."
He glanced at the Blancan navy--two gunboats, formerly pleasure yachts,
and a "battleship," once a steam-lighter--which lay at strategic
intervals across the harbor mouth and moved impatiently.
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