“Skirmishers’ independent fire,” the American said. “If it comes nearer, it’s a sign the Whites have whipped; if it dies down, it’s a sign the Whites are whipped. Say,” he continued, to one of the Red officers at the church-door, “we here are American and English citizens. Don’t you think to gaol us, but send us to our Consuls.” He repeated this pointedly in Spanish. “We’re not going to stand for being gaoled,” he said.
“This is no gaol,” the officer explained, “but a shelter till affairs are resolved. Whom do you wish to see?”
“The American Consul.”
“And you?”
“The English Consul,” the Englishman said.
“And you?”
“I want to go to my hotel, the Santiago,” Hi said.
“It is closed.”
“Then to the English Club.”
“That, too, is closed.”