"Father and my brother," said he, folding his arms, "I read a tale of blood, fire and battle at sea and along the coast. White men slaying white men, which is good—so they slay enough!"
"A battle at sea? Do you mean ships?" I questioned uneasily.
"And on land, brother. Spanish soldiers have been espied wounded and yet shouting with singing and laughing. Galleons have sailed from Porto Bello and Carthagena."
"God send Adam is not beset!" said I.
"Amen!" quoth Sir Richard. "Nay, never despond, Martin, for if he be the man you say he shall not easily be outwitted."
"Ah, sir, I think on my dear lady."
"And I also, Martin. But she is in the hands of God Who hath cherished her thus far."
"Moreover, oh, father and my brother, yonder my people do send you greeting and will entertain you for so long as you will."
"Wherefore we thank you, Atlamatzin, good friend, you and them, but if fire and battle are abroad we must on so soon as we may." So saying, Sir Richard got to his feet and we did the like and, taking up our gear, set off with what speed we might.