“I knew it would rejoice you,” said Martin Alonzo, very proud of Diego.
“And so it does,” said the admiral.
“And shall I issue bells and beads to the men, and let them barter for the yellow stuff?” asked Martin Alonzo, eagerly; for he was anxious to redeem his promises to his men.
“Not so,” answered the admiral, gravely. “Gold is a monopoly of their majesties and can only be bartered for on their account. And ’tis the same with cotton. All things else the men may procure from the natives.”
“Not barter for gold?” cried Martin Alonzo, in his quick, passionate way.
“Not barter for gold,” repeated the admiral, with all the dignity of his authority.
“And you will not return these rings to the boys?”
“Assuredly not, Martin Alonzo,” said the admiral. “You must see that it would be impossible; though I would be glad to do it for the sake of rewarding their shrewdness.”
“Then,” said Martin Alonzo, his bronzed face all aflame with wrath, “I say you shall yield it up to them. I say you shall,” and he stamped his foot on the hard sand of the beach where they stood.
“Martin Alonzo Pinzon!” said the admiral, in a stern tone, “you do forget yourself.”