"What! your friend?" the monk said, in amazement: "why, only a minute ago you were trying to take his life."
"My dear Señor," Davis remarked, ironically, "there are certain remarks whose sense you unhappily never catch. Understand me clearly: I am ready to kill this gentleman, but I will not consent to see him assassinated. That is clear enough, hang it all!"
Fray Antonio burst into a laugh.
"Singular man!" he said.
"Am I not?" Then turning to his adversary, who still stood perfectly quiet, he continued: "My dear Colonel, we will resume, at a later date, the interesting interview which this worthy Padre so untowardly interrupted. For the present, permit me to restore you one of the pistols you so generously lent me; it is undoubted that these scamps will kill us; but, at any rate, we shall have the pleasure of settling three or four of them first."
"Thank you, Davis," the Colonel answered, "I expected nothing less from you. I accept your proposition as frankly as you make it."
And he took the pistol, and cocked it. The American took his place by his side, and bowed to the stranger with mocking courtesy.
"Señores," he said, "you can charge us whenever you think proper, for we are prepared to sustain your charge bravely."
"Ah, ah!" said Fray Antonio, "Then you really mean it?"
"What!—mean it? The question seems to me somewhat simple; I suppose you think the hour and place well chosen for a joke?"