It was perfectly clear that the Spanish captain was in Dan's power. Every moment he weakened, though he continued from time to time to make frantic thrusts at the Irishman. Faintness from loss of blood was coming over him, and it was with difficulty that he kept on his feet.
"Betther give up, captain dear," said Dan in a most insinuating voice.
"What! I hand my sword over to a common sailor!"
"To the last of the Dalys!" replied Dan, drawing himself up proudly as the Spaniard had done. "It's a king I'd be if I had my rights."
"Three cheers for King Dan!" shouted a voice.
"Young Glory!"
But Dan never turned his head. He was making passes at the Spanish captain as if he meant to pin him to the mast.
"Surrender!" cried Dan once more.
"To you, never!"
"But to me, captain," said a voice that caused Dan to start. "I am the commander of the Nashville."