as he re-enters the sala grande and is greeted by Ashley, who has just left Captain Guerra.
"My dear Senor Ashley," he observes dryly, "let me give you a piece of advice."
"With pleasure, general. I am always open to kindly counsel, although I do not always follow it."
"Do not let your interest in a young lady lead you into mixing with the affairs of a country toward which you are expected to maintain a strict neutrality," is Murillo's blunt remark.
"I don't think I catch your drift, general," drawls Jack. But he does, and the gleam of quiet triumph in his blue eyes irritates Murillo.
"I have warned you," says the latter, and turns on his heel.
"So I am suspected," thinks Ashley. "I imagined the fair Isabel would like to know to whom to ascribe her confusion. And now to undeceive Juanita."
But Juanita is not to be found. There are few guests remaining in the sala and she is not among them.
Ashley explores the garden, with like success. Then he questions the line of volante drivers drawn up before the entrance to the palace grounds. Have any of them seen Senorita de Quesada? None that he interrogates have had that pleasure, and the Pearl of the Antilles is known by sight to nearly all of them. Ashley is in despair.
"The Senorita de Quesada?" queries one of the Cuban jehus, who has just joined the group. "The senorita and another lady were driven away in a volante not ten minutes ago."
"In what direction?" demands Ashley.
"To Santos."
"To Santos? Heavens, man, they cannot go to Santos at this hour of night unescorted!"
Unescorted? Is not Captain Huerta and his men all the escort that one could desire?
This intelligence is a frightful strain upon Ashley's composure, as he thinks of Juanita, Isabel, Captain Huerta and the deserted La Quinta de Quesada.
