"Silence! This night you have played the traitor to Ferdinand, to Spain, and to us. Is it not so?"
"No, senor general," replied the other stoutly.
"Through your instrumentality, the attack on Almarez has failed."
"Ira se en humo!"[*] replied the priest, doggedly.
[*] It will end in smoke,—a Spanish saying.
"Do you mock us, rascal?'
"No, cavalier; but no true Spaniard likes to be questioned thus imperiously."
"You speak somewhat boldly for a priest. But daylight is already breaking, and we must retire into concealment, or abandon the attempt altogether. Point out some track by which we may retreat, or, priest and Spaniard as you are, I will order a drum-head court-martial, and have you shot as a traitor and spy, or leaguer with the enemy."
"Gracios excellenze!" urged the padre.
"Your entreaties are of no avail. You have deceived us with the usual treachery of your nation, false monk!"