"Bullied me for being here," replied Fitz; "but he said that I might go with you." "He did!" "Yes, and gave me orders to shoot all the niggers who attacked you." "Hooray! Then come on." The two lads hurried off together through the darkness, leaving the hacienda and its defenders behind as they began to retrace their steps along the rough track leading to the corduroy road. "Here, we mustn't talk," whispered Poole. "There's pretty nearly sure to be a post of the enemy somewhere in front. We can't have such luck as to get down there to the river without something in our way. I'll go on first." "That you don't," said Fitz. "If any one goes first I will." "Now, no nonsense!" cried Poole angrily. "I'm boss of this job, and if you don't do as I tell you I'll leave you behind." "I've got your father's orders to come and take care of you," retorted Fitz; "and if you come any of your bounce and cheek now there'll be a row, and it will end in my punching your head." "Poof! Cock-a-doodle-do!" whispered Poole. "There: come on! Let's walk side by side. I'll settle all that with you when the work is done. I say, keep your eyes skinned, and both ears wide open. I'll look to the right, you look to the left. We'll get on that wooden road and follow it down to the wharf." "Pretty wharf it is! I say, I hope those poor fellows haven't been murdered." "Oh, don't talk like that. They've got the boat, and let's hope they're safe. But it's been hard lines for them, waiting there all this time, with nothing to do but nibble their biscuits and kill flies.--Pst!" Fitz imitated his companion's act and stopped short, his eyes striving hard to pierce the gloom in front; but for nearly a minute both stood on the strain. "Nothing," said Poole. "Come on. It was some little animal escaping through the bushes; but make ready." The clicking of the locks of both pieces sounded painfully loud in the silence as they went cautiously on, stopping again and again to listen, each wishing they could hear some sound to relieve the painful tension from which they suffered; but everything living seemed to have been scared away, and they kept on without interruption, while the river instead of getting nearer seemed to grow farther off, till at last Poole slipped on one of the muddy logs which formed the road, and nearly went headlong, but was saved by his companion, who in his effort to hold him up, fetched him a sharp rap on the head with the barrel of his gun. "Thank you," said Poole. "Oh, I only tried to keep you up," said Fitz, breathing hard. "I meant for that affectionate crack you fetched me on the head. I say, this arn't sporting, you know." "What do you mean?" whispered Fitz. "I mean, don't shoot me so as to fill the bag." "Don't fool," cried Fitz angrily. "All right; but don't hit me again like that. It hurts." "Pish! It was an accident. I am afraid--" "So am I," said Poole, taking him up sharply; "horribly."