said Pen sternly, and still facing the Spaniard
he took a couple of steps backward towards the wall of the hut.

His assailant did not read his intention, and uttered a snarl of triumph
as he continued his cautious tactics and went on advancing, swinging
himself from side to side as if about to spring; and a dull gleam of
light flashed from the knife he held in his hand.

But the hand Pen had thrust out behind him had not been idle; and Punch,
who lay helplessly upon the bed, uttered a sigh of satisfaction, for
with one quick movement Pen threw forward his right again to where it
came closely in contact with his left, which joined on in throwing
forward horizontally the rifle Pen had caught from where it stood in the
corner of the hut, the muzzle delivering a dull blow in the Spaniard's
chest. There was a sharp _click, click_, and Pen thundered out, "Drop
that knife and run, before it's--fire!"

The man could not understand a word of English, but he plainly
comprehended the young soldier's meaning, for his right hand
relinquished its grasp, the knife fell with a dull sound upon the
earthen floor, and its owner turned and dashed away, while the girl
stood with her hands clasped as she uttered a low sigh full of relief,
and then sank down in a heap upon the floor, sobbing as if her heart
would break.

"One for him, comrade," cried Punch hoarsely. "How would it be to spend
a cartridge over his head? Make him run the faster."

"No need, Punch. This is a bad bit of luck."

"Bad luck!" said Punch. "I call it fine. Only I couldn't come and
help. Yes, fine! Teach him what British soldier means. Oh, can't you
say something to tell that poor girl not to cry like that? Say, old
man," said the boy, dropping into a whisper, "didn't see it before.
Why, he must be her chap!"

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

PUNCH WILL TALK.

"Yes, I suppose you are right, Punch," said Pen, frowning.
"Thick-headed idiot. I have quite taken the skin off my knuckles. Poor
girl," he continued, "she has been cruelly punished for doing a womanly
action."

"Yes; but he's got it too, and serve him right. Oh, didn't I want to
help! But, my word, he will never forget what a British fist is. Yours
will soon be all right. Oh, I wish she wouldn't go on crying like that!
Do say something to her and tell her we are very sorry she got into a
scrape."

"No, you say something," said Pen quietly. But there was no need, for
the girl suddenly sprang