"Santisima Virgen! yes!" she cried. "And you!—you have lashed him like a slave!—the truest, most gallant gentleman in Christendom!"
He muttered something about the mad third mate of a sloop. To this Dr. Cuthbert made hasty reply: "All a mistake, sir,—a most egregious error. Mr. Robinson is, I am certain, precisely what he claimed."
"Nevertheless," broke in the captain, his voice as hard as iron, "the man has been tried, found guilty, and sentenced to one hundred lashes. He has received ninety-seven. There are still three strokes."
"I will bear them for him!" said Alisanda.
"Mademoiselle, do not make yourself ridiculous," he reproved.
"Better that than your cowardly cruelty in seeking to lash to death a citizen of the Republic which revolted from your brutal rule!" she thrust back at him.
He stood for some moments gazing into her scornful eyes. Despite all his harshness and arrogance, I believe he was alike pleased with her spirit and softened by her beauty.
"This man is entered in my crew as a subject of His Majesty," he at last stated, in a tone which invited argument.
"He is not a Briton," she replied. "I know he is an American. I met and travelled with him in his own land. I saw, on the bank of the Ohio, the tomb of his mother, who was slain by the red savages in the pay of your Government. He was a volunteer with an expedition under Lieutenant Pike of the Army of the United States. They crossed the western deserts of Louisiana and the lofty sierras of the West, and came far south into New Spain."
"Hold!" exclaimed the captain. "That is incredible."