"Halt!"
It was Tavernay who was speaking.
"But he is already halfway across the square."
"Halt!"
And there was no disobeying the command. Captain Tavernay walked to the door.
"A Spanish corporal whom yesterday I degraded to the ranks," said he. "Half a pint of aguardiente, and here's the result."
Captain Tavernay stepped out of the door and leisurely advanced towards the running men. He gave an order, he raised his hand, and the two soldiers who warned him fell back and halted. Certainly Captain Tavernay was accustomed to obedience. The Spanish ex-corporal ran on alone, straight towards Tavernay, but as he ran, as he saw the officer standing there alone, quietly waiting his onslaught, his threats weakened, his pace slackened. He came to a stop in front of Tavernay.
"I must kill yon!" he cried, waving his revolver.
"Yon shall kill me from behind, then," said Tavernay, calmly. "Follow me!" And he turned round, and with the same leisurely deliberation walked back to his room. The ex-corporal hesitated and--obeyed. He followed Captain Tavernay into the room where Stretton stood.
"Place your revolver on the table."