you will not be surprised to have me order you into confinement until
your case can be reported to Havana"--at this moment came the startling
sound of a volley of musketry, evidently fired close at hand--"and a
decision concerning it received from the Captain-General," concluded
the speaker, paying no heed to the firing.

As Ridge was about to utter a protest, the officer who had left the
room a minute before, re-entered it, saluted with stiff precision, and
stood awaiting orders.

"Lieutenant Navarro," said the General, "you will remove this
gentleman, who is charged with being an American spy, and bid the
officer in charge of the guard-house hold him in closest custody until
he receives further instructions. Adios, Señor Remelios. May your
night's rest be peaceful."

Perceiving that resistance or protest would be useless, Ridge passively
allowed himself to be led away. A file of soldiers stood outside, and,
surrounded by these, he was marched to the guardhouse, where, after
being searched and relieved of everything contained by his pockets, he
was led into a bare, cell-like room.

A wooden stool and a heap of filthy straw in one corner constituted its
sole furnishing. Through a grating in the door came the flickering
light of a lamp burning in the corridor, while outer air was admitted
by a small iron-barred opening in one of the side walls some six feet
above the floor. The place reeked with dampness, and, in spite of
these openings, its air was foul and stifling. A few minutes after
Ridge entered it, and as he sat in dumb despair, vainly striving to
realize his unhappy situation, a soldier brought him a bowl of bean