"I suppose the Commandant told you to give me a lift out with this box?" I asked in Spanish.
"No, señor padre."
The man was exceedingly good-natured, evidently one who had profound respect for the cloth.
"Caramba!" I growled angrily, using the Spanish tongue so he might not miss my meaning. "He promised it only a moment ago, when he looked in. He must have forgotten. There is no sense in having such a great chest lumbering up the entire room. Know you how it ever came there?"
"It was the señor Lieutenant's state-room, padre, before the prisoners were brought aboard. I think it might be his sea-chest."
"Well, the Commandant said it could be removed, so out it goes. It leaves no space for us to kneel in prayer."
I bent down as I spoke, exerting all my strength, and succeeded in dragging the heavy, iron-bound chest forward, across the threshold. My heart beat fiercely in misgiving lest the guard might feel moved to interfere, but he never stirred; merely gazed at my movements in stolid wonder. Concealing from him all the interior possible with my body, I spoke a brief word of farewell to the prisoner, supposed to be safely within, then closed and locked the door.
"Here," I said authoratively, my cheeks flushed with delight at so successful an issue, "lay hold on one end of this, and give me a lift."
Obligingly, and apparently without a moment's reflection as to his duty, the soldier, young in years and doubtless a new recruit, leaned his gun against the mast, bending down with hand upon the rope handle.
"Where to, señor padre?"
"The Commandant said it might be placed in the store-room. 'Twill stow away safely enough there, and bother nobody. Know you where that is?"
"Ay; only a step this way."
"Lead on then, yet Saint Cecilia! it makes no light load. The Lieutenant must have kept his stock of wine within."
I durst not venture bearing the thing farther, fearful lest we might run afoul of others of the guard who would prove more suspicious than this honest fellow, besides, all my hasty plan of escape hung now upon the faith retained, that the half-open cuddy door had direct communication with the provisions stored below. Surely they could never be loaded and unloaded by means of the distant hatch-ladder. So dull and unintelligent in the dim light appeared the face of the fellow opposite, as we strained forward beneath the weight of the chest, I ventured upon a question.
"How does the cook get out all that provender from here?"
"I know not, señor padre; but I think there will be opening from the store-room to the upper deck. They were at work there yesterday while I was on guard."