The roar with which he usually spoke accorded well with his whole disposition.
And yet Roderic had seen this terrible man of war become as meek as a little lamb under the thumb of a pretty girl's hand—Georgia knew how to pull his heart strings and bring him to his knees.
He evidently entered the room in a tremendous whirl of excitement.
"Por Dios! so, I have discovered the villain. Roblado swore he saw him enter here, and ran to inform me three blocks away. I have galloped every foot of the distance, and with each yard I swore a fearful oath to have his life, that of the spy who seeks to ruin me in my own house. You hear, sir—I have come to rid the world of a viper. And yet, I would not have it said that Porfidio de Brabant, with the blood of cavaliers in his veins, descended so low as to strike an unarmed man. Turn about, Yankee, and you will see many swords upon the wall behind you. The light still remains good enough to allow us a few minutes grace. It is all I want—I have not learned my lesson for nothing. What! do you then refuse to defend yourself—then by Our Lady I shall be obliged to spur you on with the flat of my good blade, until I can beat some little courage into your shrinking soul."
He made an aggressive movement, as if about to instantly carry his plan into action.
This was more than Roderic could stand.
He was a fighter by nature, and no man ever had to shake a red flag in front of his eyes in order to arouse his ambition.
Even in the present instance, though he had no desire to meet the general in an affair of honor, the awful threat made by the Porto Rican was too much for his Irish blood.
Consequently he turned to the wall, remembering that his eye had been involuntarily attracted toward a particularly inviting looking slender Hindoo sword made of the finest steel in the world, tempered in Damascus, where the art has been guarded as a secret, lo, these hundreds of years, since the turbulent time of Saracens and Crusaders in fact.
Quickly Roderic snatched this blade from the wall.