“But I am a Spaniard, sir,” proudly replied the young officer drawing himself to his full height.
Frank saw that he could trust him.
“You will deliver these to Señor Chester at La Merced,” he said, “and tell him that two are to be the portion of Señor Barnes, you understand,—one you will keep for your trouble.”
The officer replied that he comprehended his commission perfectly.
“And—and,” Frank hesitated; do what he could his eyes would fill with tears as he felt that he was making what would be his last request; “tell my father that we died like Americans and to break it to our mother as gently as he can. I think that is all—and thank you.”
The young officer seized the boys’ manacled hands and pressed them impulsively.
“Ever after this shall I respect Americans, Señor. Forgive me for what I have to do,—it is my duty. Your commission I swear to execute.”
With a sharp click of his heels he turned to the firing squad and stood at attention with his sword at his shoulder at one end of the line of twelve men.
The boys, standing side by side, heard the first command ring sharply out.
“Ready,—present!”