a trifle.
What really concerns is your delay in coming to New Orleans with your
American captives, whom you held at your place of Beaulieu. His
Excellency, the Governor General, Don Bernardo Galvez, is very much afraid
that you have involved Spain in serious difficulties with a friendly
people."

Alvarez looked fiercely at Bernal. How much did this man know? But the
little lieutenant merely stroked his mustache, and his face was
expressionless.

"If explanations are due," said Alvarez, "I shall make them to Don
Bernardo."

"Very good! very good!" murmured the lieutenant. "I am quite sure that
Don Bernardo will be greatly pleased."

Alvarez turned angrily, gave some orders to his men, and then stalked away
followed by Wyatt and two others. The renegade had never spoken a word,
but he and the five had exchanged some threatening glances.

Alvarez and Bernal had spoken in Spanish, but Henry and the others
surmised the import of their words. They knew, too, by the manner of
Alvarez that the little triumph had been with Bernal.

"He wanted the boat, did he not?" said Henry.

"Yes," replied the lieutenant, "but you can sleep in it to-night. I warn
you, however, to see Bernardo Galvez in the morning as soon as you can.
After all, you are Americans and foreigners, while Alvarez is a Spaniard
and one of us. You will have much to overcome."

They perceived the truth of his suggestion and thanked him. He gave them a
friendly good night and went away. The five went on board "The Galleon"
and prepared for sleep, having dismissed their watchman with ample pay.

As the boat was securely tied there was no need to keep a watch and all
prepared for the night. But they did not go to sleep yet, although they
did not talk, every one being occupied with his own thoughts.

Paul sat at the stern of the boat leaning against the side, and his eyes
were on New Orleans, where he saw the formless shapes of buildings and
twinkling lights here and there. The city, in a way, attracted him and,
in another way, it repelled him. It interested him, but he had no desire
to live there. It was a port, a gate, as it were, opening into the vast
old world, to which belonged the centuries, and of which he had read and
thought so much, but the single taste of it turned Paul's heart with a
stronger affection than ever toward the New World to which he belonged.
The great forests of the north seemed clean and fresh to him as they had
seemed to Jim. There