Then one man only ran to his side, and they two advanced together, trying to shame the Spaniards to attack.
But they were not shamed a bit, but let those two come right on, when, as they reached to within twenty yards of the gate, our men sent up a hearty cheer, for the one who accompanied the Spanish officer was the Englishman.
“Bravo!” cried Colonel Preston. “Hallo, there, you renegade; you’re a brave man after all. Tell the Spanish officer I salute him as one worthy of all respect.”
The officer raised his hat as this was interpreted to him.
“Now tell him,” continued the colonel, “not to risk his life in another advance. An accidental shot might injure him, and I should be most grieved.”
“Are you mocking him, sir? He says,” shouted the man.
For answer, Colonel Preston leaped down from over the gate and advanced, Morgan following him. I saw the Spanish officer start at this, and advance sword in hand to the attack; but Colonel Preston sheathed his.
“Tell him,” he said aloud,—“no, there is no need to tell him; he can understand this.—Sir, I wish to take the hand of a gallant officer in mine,” and he stretched out his hand.
The Spanish officer lowered the point of his sword, and after a moment’s hesitation changed it into his left hand.
“You can tell him that I do not mean treachery or trying to take prisoners,” said the colonel.