Bold as Cruz undoubtedly was, this speech of the colonel had an obviously quieting effect on him, as well as on his followers, who, however, being numerous, and not wanting in courage, stood ready to obey orders.
“Now, I will tell you in few words what I have got to say,” continued the colonel, addressing Cruz. “When you locked the villagers here in their own huts, you forgot, or did not know, that, being a tyrant as well as a scoundrel, you had enemies among your own followers. These have not only set us, your prisoners, free, but have done the same good turn to the villagers, who have been persuaded to join us against you. And now, as our numbers are pretty equal, we give you the option of going away quietly wherever you please, or, if you prefer it, having a fair fight. I may add that if I were backed by my troops, instead of these villagers, I would not give you this option; but as I have no official right to command these men, I now make you the proposal either to retire quietly or fight.”
“Aw—just so,” said the sporting Englishman. “And let me add, as a sort of—aw—freelance that I and my friend here hope sincerely that you will choose to fight.”
“You’s a brick!” exclaimed Quashy, with emphasis, regarding the sportsman for the first time with favour.
Cruz hesitated. He was swayed by a burning thirst for vengeance and a prudent regard for his personal safety. By way of hastening his decision, Colonel Marchbanks added—
“It may be well to remind you that when you unfortunately succeeded in decoying me and my friends into your snares, and captured us, you did not leave my troops without officers. The gentleman now in command will not lose time in following us up, and he is aided by Gauchos who could trace you out though you were to hide your rascally head in the darkest retreats of the Andes. So, you’d better be off at once, or come on.”
“Aw—yes. If I might advise—come on!” suggested the sportsman.
“Das so. Come on!” urged Quashy.
But Cruz refused their well-meant advice. Regarding discretion as the better part of valour, and resolving, no doubt, to “fight another day,” he elected to “be off.” Collecting his men in sulky silence, he speedily rode away.
“Sorry he’s so chicken-hearted,” said the sportsman, forgetting even to “aw” in his disappointment.