Wheeling suddenly around, we saw a boy eighteen years of age or thereabouts, who was regarding us with an expression which might equally well have been one of friendship or enmity. "We're from the _Essex_," Phil replied, and as he spoke the stranger came toward us. "Can you speak Spanish?" he asked; whereat I replied glibly:-- "Not a word, and more's the pity, else we might have had companions in our sight-seeing." "If that's all you're wanting, come with me. I'll show you a good time." "Do you live here?" I asked, fancying that he spoke like one lately from England. "Yes, for the time being; and since I have nothing better to do, suppose we travel together." Every person in the town had been so friendly toward us that we had no reason to suspect evil, and even though we had considered the possibility that any one was wickedly disposed, why should harm come to us who were of so little importance? Phil was so delighted at the idea of making a friend in this place where almost nothing but Spanish was spoken, that he accepted the proposition without delay, and at once we three set off in company. Oliver Benson was the name of this friendly appearing lad, as we soon learned; and before we had been together half an hour he knew very nearly as much as we ourselves concerning our position and life aboard the _Essex_. "Boys are not of much account on Yankee ships, according to your story," he said, in a peculiar tone; and Phil replied glibly:-- "It doesn't seem so, except when there's a lot of dirty work to be done. If we never went back to the _Essex_, I reckon there wouldn't be much mourning over our loss." I insisted that Master Hackett at least would miss us, and declared that my cousin Stephen's heart would be sore with grief if any accident happened to either of us; but Benson laughed me to scorn. "If you failed to return there isn't one aboard who'd remember your absence after four-and-twenty hours," he said. "An enemy might work his will on you and stand no chance of coming to grief, for I doubt not but that the frigate will sail by to-morrow." "We have no enemies here," Phil replied with a laugh, "therefore we needn't spend time discussing that question." I noted a peculiar expression on Benson's face, but gave no great heed to it, for at that instant he had turned down a narrow street and was unlocking the door of a stone dwelling. "Do you live here?" Phil asked. "Yes; and I count on showing you two lads what a Chilian dinner is like. It will be something to talk about when you get home." He held the door open as invitation for us to enter; and although there was absolutely no reason why I should suspect him of having unfriendly designs upon us, I hesitated about going in. "Go on," Phil said, pushing me forward. "We're fortunate in having run across Benson, for there are not many lads, either here or at home, who would spend their time entertaining strangers."