God preserve—to exchange words with such as you. In Seville—"
"’Tis not Seville, señor, but Antigua, that is cursed with your presence at this time. Were it not that I feel called upon to protect honest folk, it would be beneath my dignity to address you."
"Dignity—in rags?" Garabito scoffed.
"Si, señor! Dignity in rags! There you may mark the true caballero, when his dignity is to be observed through his rags—not that I seek to praise myself, but to damn you more! I count it dignity, señor, to have followed the intrepid De Balboa across the jungle to the Great South Sea, which, I believe, you never have set your eyes upon. My tatters were gained in the service of Spain, señor, and that same king whom you but now wished God to preserve. What hard spots are on my hands came from wielding blade, perhaps, and not from twirling a handkerchief!"
"You are modest concerning yourself!" Garabito observed.
"There was a method in it, señor. Self praise is repugnant to me, but I could think of no other subject quickly. My oratory, you will observe, has served to hold you here until the last of the ladies are gone. If you look about, you will see that the plaza is free of femininity now. My object has been served."
Garabito snarled as a rapid glance around the plaza proved the truth of Botello's words.
"Now—to business, señor!" Botello went on. "Yesterday I told you not to show your face on the plaza at this hour. You have seen fit to disobey my orders."
"Where get you authority to issue such orders, señor? Are you governor, by any chance?"
"The saints forbid! I have useful work to do."
"Is this treason?"
"Let us not change the subject," Botello persisted. "I say you disobeyed my orders."
There was silence then for a moment, while Garabito sputtered in his sudden burst of rage, for he could restrain himself no longer before this man.
"Were it not for his excellency's edict. I'd run you through for the fool you are!" he exclaimed.
"His excellency's edict serves to protect his excellency's friends, I observe. I never yet have been run through, señor; it would be a new experience."
"Boaster!"
"Merely another score to settle—that! Why did you disobey my orders?"
"I failed to see your authority to issue them," Garabito said. "And since I have disobeyed what you please to term your orders, what is your pleasure in the matter?"
"For disobeying, a tweak of the nose is enough to show how I regard you, señor!"
Even as he spoke, Botello reached forward quickly and grasped Pasqual Garabito's prominent nose between his strong fingers. He tweaked. Garabito's head was jerked forward and tears sprang into his eyes. He shrieked his rage as Botello released him and he fell backward, and again his hand went to the hilt of his rapier. Botello stood before him, arms folded across his breast, waiting and ready.
"For that I'll slay you as I would a mad dog!" Garabito roared. "Were I not a loyal man and follower of the laws, I'd do it at the present moment. I shall beseech the governor this night to remove his edict for a day, that I may cross blades with you—though I lower myself to do it."
"You'll be lowered properly if you attempt it!" Rodrigo Ruiz exclaimed, laughing loudly. "Be lowered even to the ground and stretched there while priests mumble!"
"I cannot endure such rabble!" Garabito exclaimed to his friend. "And this fellow—this Botello—to push a quarrel in furtherance of his suit for a lady—"
"Hah!" Botello roared, springing forward again. "No lady has been mentioned save by your lips. And those same lips of yours are too foul, señor—"
"When his excellency removes his edict!" Garabito promised; and he whirled on one heel to continue across the plaza.
"A moment, señor!" Botello called. "The tweak on the nose was for disregarding my orders. There is another score."
"Indeed, señor?"
"But, yes! Sometime since, in conversation with another man, you termed me a lying braggart; did you not?"
"Eavesdropping, eh, señor?"
"Your words were loud enough for half the jungle to hear. You said it—did you not?"
"If I did—"
"It would be an insult to De Balboa, my leader, to let such a statement pass without resentment, señor. It were time you admitted to all here that when you spoke you were beside yourself with anger and had small regard for the truth."
"You scarcely can expect such a thing, señor!" Garabito said, sneering again.
"Then suppose, caballero, that you let your friend hold that dainty handkerchief of yours, and draw blade."
Now Rodrigo Ruiz hurried forward and plucked at Botello's sleeve, whispering what it would mean to urge a quarrel; and for an instant Botello turned his head to tell his friend to go about his own business. In that instant. Garabito whipped out his rapier and lunged forward, a foul stroke, while half a score caballeros cried out their warnings to Botello.
Botello whirled in time to dodge the darting weapon, though it ripped through his clothing.
"Another tatter, eh?" he cried, drawing blade in turn.
He knocked Garabito's sword arm aside, and struck his foe across the cheek with the flat of his hand.
"That for a man of your stamp!" he cried. "As foul with blade as you are with speech and in mind and actions, eh? 'Tis a disgrace to our king if you draw such sword in his cause. On guard, señor! You fight for life now!"
Garabito knew it! And now that the issue was at hand, he entered into the combat with zeal, for Garabito was no mean swordsman. Other men sprang back to give them ample room, and because they feared interruption there was no voice, no sound save that of the ringing blades, the shuffling of feet on the hard-baked earth, and the heavy breathing of the combatants.
Thus for the space of five minutes without advantage to either, and then Botello took a step forward and began to force the fighting, his blade darting in and out like the tongue of a snake. Garabito gave ground, for he was growing weak already, and his wrist was tiring, and he was haunted by the knowing smile of Botello that expressed how this combat was to end.
"Too much high living, señor!" Botello taunted. "Already your wind is gone! Your wrist tires! Hah! I almost reached you then! Say your prayers, señor, while yet there is time—but say them swiftly if you would have them done before your eyes glaze. Hah!"
His blade ripped through Garabito's sleeve, and Garabito gave ground again. The men were cheering the combat now, for it was a sight in the presence of which they could not keep silent. They did not notice that Garabito's friend had darted away.
And now he returned, and with him came the governor's lieutenant and two of the guard; and they charged across the plaza, shrieking cries to the combatants to
