“British subjects who venture into a city under martial law must take the consequences. We can show them no more consideration than we show Spanish subjects. They deserve much less, indeed. At this moment a force is being organized in England, with the sanction and encouragement of the British Government, to serve against our troops in these colonies. This is an act of war, and if the king, my master, were of my mind, he would declare war against England. Better an open foe than a treacherous friend. Do you hold a commission in the Legion, señor?”
“No.”
“Know you anybody who does?”
“Yes; I believe that several men with whom I served in Spain have accepted commissions. But you will surely not hold me responsible for the doings of others?”
“Not at all. You have quite enough sins of your own to answer for. You may not actually hold a commission in this force of filibusters, but you are acquainted with people who do; and from your own admission and facts that have come to our knowledge, we believe that you are acting as an intermediary between the rebels in this country and their agents in England. It is an insult to our understanding to tell us that you have come here out of idle curiosity. You have come to spy out the nakedness of the land, and being a soldier you know how spies are dealt with.”
Here the president held a whispered consultation with his colleagues. Then he turned to me, and continued:
“We are of opinion that the charges against you have been fully made out, and the sentence of the court is that you be strangled on the Plaza Major to-morrow morning at seven by the clock.”
“Strangled! Surely, señores, you will not commit so great an infamy? This is a mere mockery of a trial. I have neither seen an indictment nor been confronted by witnesses. Call this a sentence! I call it murder.”
“If you do not moderate your language, prisoner, you will be strangled to-night instead of to-morrow. Remove him, capitan“—to the officer of police. “Let this be your warrant”—writing.
“Grant me at least one favor,” I asked, smothering my indignation, and trying to speak calmly. “I have fought and bled for Spain. Let me at least die a soldier’s death, and allow me before I die to see a priest.”