“Do so,” ordered the captain, a troubled look coming over his face. “In the meantime, my comrades--for such I must call you--let us have some luncheon, and discuss our next steps.” “We do not wish to interfere with your plans, sir,” spoke up Midshipman Stark, who had been conferring with his men, “but if it is all the same to you, we should like to be put ashore as soon as possible.” The captain looked disappointed. “I was hoping to have you with me longer,” he said, “but I would not for the world thwart your inclinations.” “It is not our inclination, sir, but our duty,” rejoined the middy. “We left our ship on an errand of confidence. We have so far been unavoidably detained, but now we wish to get back with all the speed possible.” “I have it!” exclaimed the captain suddenly, “I will put you ashore at Los Olivos. It is not far from here. I do not know if the rebels have infested it, but even if they have I have powerful friends there who will provide you with horses and a means of getting safely into Boca del Sierras.” This was good news for the young man-of-war’s men, who felt it incumbent on them to rejoin their ship as soon as possible. Even as things were, it was likely that news of their continued absence had been cabled home. Luncheon was a peculiar meal. It was served from the scant stores of the _Barrill_, and the already depleted menu was not improved by the addition of the insurgent officers. They bore the news of their defeat with long countenances, but bravely enough put the best face possible on matters, and did not let their gloom interfere with the merriment of the others. “I am going to propose the health of you four brave Americans,” whispered the captain, as the meal drew to a close. “For Heaven’s sake, sir, do nothing of the sort, I beg,” whispered the middy, who sat next to him, and who, fortunately, had been the only one to catch his remark. “It might mean the loss of my commission and the ruin of the others.” “What!” exclaimed the captain in amazement, but in a low voice, “you are never going to acknowledge the magnificent part you played to-day?” “No, sir. We had much rather it would never be mentioned. These insurgent officers do not know who we are. The matter need never go further.” “By the saints, you Americans are beyond me!” exclaimed the captain, “but, my dear young friend, of course the wishes of yourself or of your friends are sacred to me, and shall be obeyed.” “Thank you,” said the middy simply. The damaged condenser was repaired by the engine-room force sufficiently to allow the American party to be landed at Los Olivos that night. They were rowed ashore in plain clothes, borrowed from the friendly officers of the destroyer. Under the captain’s guidance they soon reached the home of his friends, a villa set back in magnificent grounds, on the outskirts of the little town. The officer’s acquaintances willingly agreed to aid the Americans.