‘To set against which door, my honest friend?’
‘The great door on the Plaza, Excellency; the other is an old door of iron.’
‘And they cannot burn it or break it open?’
‘No, Excellency. And, besides, there are loopholes in the thickness of the wall at the side.’
The General smiled on this man as being after his own heart.
‘One may not shoot to-night, my friend. I have already given the order.’
‘But one may prick them with the sword, Excellency?’ suggested the trooper, with a sort of suppressed enthusiasm.
The General shrugged his shoulders, wisely tolerant.
‘Oh yes,’ he answered, ‘I suppose one may prick them with the sword.’
Conyngham, who had been standing half in and half out of the open window, listening to this conversation, now came forward.