His ideas, of course, were very raw and incomplete. He was only a boy, and he could not see all of the mischief. He had watched the colored people in their huts, away off behind the plantation house. He had seen them at work in the fields. They seemed to be fat, merry, and not at all discontented. As for their Spanish owners, nothing could be more easy-going and careless than their way of life. Their only apparent difficulty appeared to be in finding something to do. Guert himself found enough, for all this thing was entirely new to him. He enjoyed especially his horseback rides around the country, along forest roads, and into wonderfully lovely nooks of semi-tropical vegetation. He was all the while picking up Spanish words with great rapidity, for there was no other language to be heard, except queer African dialects among the slaves. He progressed all the better, too, because of having made a pretty good beginning before coming there. On the whole, however, his plantation days seemed a long time to look back upon, and here he stood, in the veranda, disposed to consider his situation seriously. "What!" he suddenly exclaimed. "Could I stay here and think of the _Noank_ being out there in a fight? My own mother'd be ashamed of me, if I did!" A light hand was on his shoulder, and a soft, kindly voice said to him:-- "My dear young friend! If I were your mother, I should feel as you say she would. I would have my brave son fighting for his country." "O Señora Paez!" said Guert, whirling to look into her venerable face, "you all have been so good to me! But I cannot stay here while our war for liberty is going on." Before she could speak again, a loud hail came up to them from the gateway at the road, and a man on horseback dashed in at a gallop. "Señora Paez," said Guert, excitedly, "it's Vine Avery! Something's happened." "Guert!" shouted the rider, "we're all ready to sail! Come on! The coast is clear! Come back with me!" "Hurrah! I'm ready," he began. "Go, my dear boy!" interrupted the old señora. "I will call them to say good-by to you. I would not detain you if you were my son. It is your duty!" Quickly enough, the Alvarez household gathered to say farewell to their young guest. They were all brimming with hospitality. They urged him to come again and to consider their house his home. Nevertheless he could see, plainly enough, that not one of them dreamed of detaining him, now. They understood that his post of honor was behind the guns of the _Noank_, and they would have despised him if he had not felt just as he did.