their doors, astonished by the fortune that seemed to wait on this unaccountable Don Gabriel's call.
"This is the condition upon which I will grant you life, Roberto Garvanza," Henderson said. "Tell me first, with the honesty of a man who stands condemned, whether there is a British ship in the harbor, as you have said."
"There is," Roberto replied.
Don Abrahan stood beside his son, a few feet parting them, his spare figure drawn erect, his thin face stern and severe. He had not said a word to the young man, although he had seemed on the point of addressing him once, only to frown and turn away. Now he looked at him sharply, drawing his brows as if he peered against the light.
"Then you will order your soldiers back to the pueblo, and you and your father shall ride with us to the harbor. I assure you solemnly that you shall both be shot the moment you attempt to escape, or that any rescue is attempted by your soldiers or friends. You will remain in our company as surety for our safety until we are on board the British vessel, when you may return ashore. On this condition I grant you and your father life. Do you accept the terms?"
"I accept, Don Gabriel," Roberto replied, his head bent, his voice shamed and low.
Don Abrahan turned to him, hand lifted as if to strike him, his face blanched with passion.
"Coward!" the old man denounced him. "Twice this day I have seen you a coward!"
