Don Porfidio was genial despite his exceeding gruff ways.
"Cospita, hombre, you speak fairly. If the chit of a girl has forgiven what right have I to hold out, though truth to tell I have made many a vow to the Virgin to flay your back when next we met, on account of your wretched flight. Since you ask it so sincerely, and there was always a warm corner of my tough old heart for you Senor Roderic, I see no reason why we should not shake hands and resume our former friendship."
This pleased Owen, who was just in the act of putting out his hand when a rough voice outside was heard calling:
"Senor de Brabant, have you slain the pig of a Yankee spy—is it safe to enter?"
At which Don Porfidio uttered a choking exclamation and letting his hand drop to his side stared at the face of the young American as though the truth had flashed through his brain like an electric bolt.
CHAPTER VIII.
"ADIOS, BELOVED!"
The old Porto Rican dignitary quickly recovered his speech—indeed, it was seldom he could be found in a position where his vocal organs suffered a relapse, since it was almost as natural for Don Porfidio to fume and roar as it was to draw breath.
Suspicion, which had lain dormant in his breast during the last few minutes, on account of his surprise at discovering the identity of his opponent in the sword duel, now once more leaped into a fierce flame.