The man seemed to grow yellow as he gazed at the colonel; then, turning away, he spoke hurriedly to the two Spanish officers, who stood gazing at our party for a few moments, then bowed, and stalked back.
“Well, Preston,” said the General; “shall we have to give up?”
“To them?” cried the colonel, sharply. “No! Do you know what Bruton will say?”
“How can I?”
“Well, sir, he will say, ‘let them come, and if they drive us out of here, we will retire into the forest.’ But, bah! I am not afraid. All Spanish bombast. Ah, young Bruton, what do you say to this?” he continued, as they entered the gates, and he caught sight of me.
“I’m not old enough to say anything about it,” I replied; “but I think a great deal.”
“And what do you think?” said the General, smiling, as he laid his hand upon my shoulder.
“That they will be afraid to fight, sir.”