’The great Governor will not believe! And yet I could have even brought something away from the vultures’ tent,’ added Andreas with a smile. Alas! it was only too true. Instead of being surprised at the arrival of a pirate messenger, Don Estevan del Campo seemed greatly relieved. He had up to this hour decided on nothing, and was more excited and more unfit to issue commands than he had been even the day before. Carlo appealed to Don Francisco; but this officer was powerless without the sanction of the Governor, and the more the latter was urged to fight the less he seemed inclined to do so. The Marquis listened to the news the Indian brought, and then ordered some soldiers to go down to the river and conduct the messengers into the castle. They were to be well guarded, and to have their eyes bandaged for fear of discovering any secrets, such as taking notes of the path up the steep hill of Santa Terea. Great was the excitement in the castle when it was known that the pirates had been bold enough to send an envoy. Some suggested that these heralds of robbers should not be received; others, that they should be sent back with threats; others, that hanging was too good for them; whilst Don Francisco declared plainly that a garrison of His Catholic Majesty of Spain had no business to parley with English rascals; but Don Estevan, going from one to the other, listened to all the contradictory advice, merely saying at the end: ’No, no, good sirs, but we must hear what they say. Most likely this herald brings us an unconditional surrender, in which case we shall have trapped the rats without wasting our powder.’ But Don Francisco answered: ’That is not very likely, noble Marquis; there seems no doubt it is Henry Morgan who himself leads the band, and he was never known to surrender. Andreas swears there are a great number of them. If so, they will surely attack us.’ The surmises were at length set at rest by the entrance of the soldiers, who brought with them a short, thick-set man, whose determined face spoke of dauntless courage and daring. With him was a tall fair youth, with a noble but sad and care-worn expression of face. From the windows of their dwelling-room Felipa and Etta had watched the entrance of the new arrivals; and Carlo, who had rushed in to do the same, could not help an exclamation of surprise at the sight of the lad, who was about his own age and size. As for Etta, her admiration found vent in words. ’Look, Felipa, that is an English boy! How handsome he is! He does not look wicked, does he? Perhaps he is Henry Morgan’s son. How I wish these were not wicked pirates! I would talk to them of England, and perhaps they might know my relations and would some day take me back. But the man looks every inch of him like an evil buccaneer.’