“You will have every opportunity of finding out, if you are foolish enough to attack the fort.”
“You advise us then to retreat?”
“I most certainly do.”
“And why, Donna, if you hate our country, are you so anxious that we shall not be cut to pieces by your scrap-iron?”
The girl shrugged her pretty shoulders.
“It doesn’t matter in the least to me what you do,” she said, rising to her feet. “Am I your prisoner, Señor Nelson?”
“No,” cried the young man, also springing up; “I am yours, and have been ever since you looked at me.”
Again the girl shrugged her shoulders. She seemed to be in no humour for light compliments, and betrayed an eagerness to be gone.
“I have your permission, then, to depart? Do you intend to keep your word?”
“If you will keep yours, Donna.”