We had plenty of news, all this time, from San Fernando, because those local steamers, which had been lying idle for the last few months, resumed their work and ran regularly up to La Laguna. Gerald even found time to write a letter and let me know that preparations were being made for the final attack on Los Angelos and Santa Cruz, but he wrote that there would be some delay as the insurgents in the northern province were not yet ready. They were exhausted, temporarily, by the effort of driving Canilla’s army into the mountains and wanted rest. I knew that if Gerald was there they wouldn’t get much rest, but he couldn’t be in two places at once. He didn’t mention the ex-policeman, so I hoped that the little brute had disappeared for good. From Santa Cruz we heard very contradictory reports, but there was no doubt that President Canilla was making desperate efforts to defend the city, and that the batteries above Los Angelos were practising almost daily. He was issuing fiery proclamations to encourage his troops, but, in spite of them, and in spite of General Zorilla’s popularity, his men were deserting in great numbers. It was known that directly the insurgents commenced to make their final attack on the city, the _Hercules_ was to go across to Los Angelos, to be there in case any trouble arose and she might be wanted to back up the authority of the British Minister. As the _Hector_ was to go to Bermuda you can imagine that every one on board her was rather sorry not to be able to see the end of the revolution. Of course I was especially sorry because of Gerald. You can therefore guess how jolly pleased I was when the Skipper sent for me one morning and told me that he was transferring me to the _Hercules_. One of her lieutenants had been invalided home and I was to take his place. ’Tut, tut, boy!’ he said; ’I chose you because I knew you’d like to keep an eye on that haughty brother of yours.’ It was jolly good of him, and when the local repairs had been completed, and the _Hector_ was fit to steam to Bermuda, I packed my gear, was taken across to the _Hercules_, and, with Ginger and Cousin Bob, watched her slowly crawl past us, out through the northern entrance. The band struck up ’Rolling Home’ and ’Auld Lang Syne,’ and I felt rather mournful to see my old ship steaming away without me, looking, even now, very desolate and dreary with her jerry foretopmast, patched bridge and upperworks, and only her two after funnels. I had a very jolly time aboard the _Hercules_ with Ginger, found Cousin Bob much brighter, and Ginger and I often chuckled to see how his mids. and mine had become as thick as thieves. *CHAPTER XVI* *The Attack on Santa Cruz* _Written by Sub-Lieutenant William Wilson, R.N._