The Caribbean by Rob Kidd Page B

those steep stones, using only a few edges for footholds! I so hope nothing terrible has happened to him!”
    Gombo rolled his eyes. “It is not such an amazing trick, climbing a stone wall,” he said gruffly.
    “Well, I didn’t see you volunteering,” Marcella snapped.
    “ I don’t speak Spanish,” Gombo reminded her. “ I could not gather information the way he could by eavesdropping before we got in.”
    “Exactly,” Marcella said. “Just one reason why he’s a hero and you’re not.” They glowered at each other.
    “I’m here,” Diego said, appearing in the low doorway of the inner building of the fort. He had a sword pointed at a Spanish soldier, who was gaping at the four intruders in astonishment. “His friends are tied up in there.” Diego nodded behind him. “And this gentleman has kindly agreed to show us to the office where they are storing the gold for Villanueva.”
    Barbossa’s eyebrows arched. “Villanueva?” he said. “There’s gold for him here?”
    “So I overheard,” Diego said. “A whole chest of it. His deal with the Spanish must be going well.” He nudged the soldier with his sword. “Take us to the gold,” he said in Spanish.
    The soldier nodded, blinking, and led the way inside. Marcella flounced ahead of Gombo, and Barbossa brought up the rear, training his pistol in all directions. But the fort was quiet. They met only two other soldiers on the way to the office, and those were easily taken care of by tying them up and stuffing them into a closet. It seemed that Diego was right—most of them were peacefully enjoying their afternoon naps.
    “Here,” the soldier stammered to Diego in Spanish, stopping at one of the doors. “This is the commander’s office. He has sailed out to meet Villanueva and bring him back here. They should return tomorrow.”
    “Gracias,” Diego said to him. “And in exchange for your help, I will help you as well.” He leaned toward the soldier and whispered, “I have heard a rumor about that Spanish princess everyone is looking for.”
    “Princessa Carolina?” the soldier said eagerly. Marcella caught the name Carolina and looked up with a scowl.
    “Yes,” Diego said, still in Spanish. “I have heard that she took passage on a ship bound for Ireland. It left two days ago, but it was supposed to stop in New York, Boston, Maine, Canada, and Greenland along the way. If they want to find her, they should start by looking in all those places.”
    The soldier nodded, repeating the cities as he tried to memorize them. “ Nueva York , Boston,” he said, “yes, yes, thank you, good sir. They will reward me well for this information!” His face fell. “That is, after they punish us for allowing the fort to be robbed in the first place.”
    Diego felt a twinge of guilt, but it was worth it to throw Carolina’s family off her trail. “Sorry, my friend,” he said. Gombo took the soldier aside, tied him up, and sat him gently down on the floor of another closet to await rescue.
    As they opened the door to the commander’s office, Gombo tilted his head at Diego. “I didn’t understand most of what you said to the man,” he said, “but you did something clever, didn’t you?”
    “I hope so,” Diego said fervently. “I would do anything to protect Carolina.” He didn’t notice Marcella’s face darken angrily.
    The office was small and square with only one window high up in the wall. There was a heavy oak desk, a pair of plain cabinets, a map of the Caribbean hanging on the wall, and one very large chest which looked very promising.
    Barbossa pushed past them and hurried to the chest. It wasn’t even locked—they really must have thought no one would find the fort out in the jungle. He flung open the top, and the crew was downright awed at the sight of the gleaming pile of coins inside. The whole room seemed to be lit up by them. Gombo peeked out into the passageway and closed the door.
    “Quickly now,” Barbossa said.