"We shall see."

The words were not spoken by Dan, yet they seemed to come from the spot where he was standing.

Instantly the door in the wall was thrown open, and a man dashed through. He seemed to be a Spaniard, for he was wearing the Spanish costume.

Before the officer could raise a hand to defend himself, the stranger was within a yard of him, holding a six-shooter at his head.

Dan was paralyzed with astonishment.

The firing party had lowered their rifles. They had broken their ranks, and were talking together excitedly and rapidly.

By this time the Spanish officer had somewhat recovered from his surprise, and the color which had left his cheeks began to return.

"Who are you?" he demanded, sternly.

"Speak lower, senor, a little lower. I allow no one to address me thus."

"Address you! Caramba! I speak as I please. I am master here!"

The stranger laughed mockingly.

"We won't discuss that point, for I see we shall not agree."

"What do you want?"

"Ah! That's a different question, and I'll give you an answer. You have a prisoner here, an American sailor."

"What of it?"

"He is your prisoner no longer. He is mine."

"You dare to interfere between me and an enemy of your country!"

"I dare do even more than that, senor capitan."

"I will soon put an end to this farce. Hold!"

The officer called to his men, and instantly they were all attention.

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