"Caramba! but you die!"
"Some day!" answered Dan, coolly, as he parried a furious blow. "Ah! my gold-laced don, you're beginnin' to see that Dan Daly's handled a sword before."
The two men were practically alone. Captain Moret had his back to the mast, and Dan, agile as a cat, despite his age, was hopping merrily round and round him.
The tide of battle had passed them by.
Such of the Spaniards as had not thrown down their arms had retreated in a body towards Lieutenant Tyler's force, with Young Glory and his band of fifty blue jackets in hot pursuit.
"It's your beautiful uniform I'm afther spoilin'," said Dan, as he gave a thrust. "Arrah! but that was a great stroke, though it's meself as says it."
The stroke in question was a severe cut on Captain Moret's sword arm, which caused him instantly to pass his weapon into his left hand.
"Ould gentleman," said Dan, "it's a poor chance ye have. Surrender!"
"Never! While my men fight I will!"
"Begorra, but it's a nuisance ye are. I'm bound to kape ye alive, an' while I'm here I'm afther losin' all the great fight that's goin' on. Ah! it's Dan Daly's the man was born under an unlucky star."