They came to the back of the stables, and, striking to the right, reached the end of the wall. Here they halted for a moment, while Will glanced around. A light through the open door of the house was reflected on the surface of the lake. To his joy he saw that De Mello's little sailing yacht lay at the jetty. He had feared it might have been removed. Creeping along by the front wall of the stables he came to a spot whence he could see the door. A sentry was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall, his head bent forward as in slumber. It might be possible to get to the jetty without waking him. Will returned to the men, and whispering "Remember!" to Machado, he led the way towards the terrace whence a few steps led down to the jetty.
They were half-way there when, just as they came within the illuminated space, the sentry in a sleepy voice cried, "Who goes there?"
The General began to struggle, and Will pressed the cold muzzle of the revolver to his brow.
"Miguel Machado: you know me," said Machado.
"Ah, Señor Machado, it is you. What have you got there?"
"His Excellency sends a spy to feed the caymans."
"A spy!" cried the man, more wakefully. "Who is it?"
"A wretched Indian, once in the service of the Englishman."
"Is that all? I hoped it was the Englishman who escaped. I was coming to have a look at him, but if it is an Indian it is not worth while. I shall hear him squeal. Is there any news from Bolivar, Señor Machado?"
"Then the Englishmen will be shot to-morrow," said the man. "A good riddance. Come and have a chat on your way back."
During this conversation Will had stood behind Machado so that his face could not be seen. The lamp in the hall was a small one, and the light revealed little. They moved on again, came to the steps, and descending these reached the end of the jetty. The General had been passive since he felt the cold steel against his brow; but now, feeling that his last chance had come, he gave a sudden jerk with his legs which threw Azito down. Instantly Will was upon him, but he was a very powerful man, and, bound though he was, he wriggled and heaved his body with such violence that it was difficult to hold him. In the struggle he managed by some means to get rid of the gag, and shouted at the top of his voice--