" he growled, rather than spoke, "I suppose you're a human
being."

"Faith, an' if you are, I'm not."

The Spaniard's face grew dark with passion.

"Silence! I ask you if you have any request to make. If possible, it
shall be carried out."

"Shure, an' I have, then."

"Quick! my men are waiting. Speak!"

"It's Young Glory I'd like to spake to. I'd like to shake his hand--"
Dan's voice faltered here--"before I die."

"That young wretch!" cried the Spaniard, savagely. "So you're his
friend?"

"The truest he iver had."

"Then, as Young Glory is not yet in our hands, your request is denied."

Dan's eyes twinkled with fun. The nearness of death could not depress
him.

"Shure, it's in no hurry I am. I can wait till you catch him."

The Spanish captain glared fiercely at Dan. Then he faced round towards
his men.

"Are your rifles loaded?" he cried.

"Yes, yes, senor capitan!"

"Shoulder arms, then. Wait for the word."

Dan stared round, taking his last look of the earth.

The brave fellow had refused to have his eyes bandaged, and now he was
staring defiantly at the men who were to be his executioners.

"They may miss you, senor, the first time," said the Spaniard. "Our men
can't fire as straight as you Yankees."

Dan Daly understood what this speech meant. It was virtually a command
to the firing party not to kill at the first volley. They intended to
prolong Dan's agony.

"Ah! you tremble," cried the Spaniard, gleefully.

Dan held out his hand.

"Faith, it's not you can make my hand shake. It's firm as a rock."

The Spaniard bit his lips with passion. He saw that he could not subdue
the proud spirit of the American sailor, and he had hoped to see him
writhing on the ground with fear, begging for mercy.

"Yankees are animals, not men," he said, savagely. "No matter, the world
is about to be rid of one of them."

"We shall see."

The words were not spoken by Dan, yet they seemed to come from the spot
where he was standing.

Instantly the door in the wall was thrown open, and a man dashed
through. He seemed to be a Spaniard, for he was wearing the Spanish
costume.

Before the officer could raise a hand to defend himself, the stranger
was within a yard of him, holding a six-shooter at his head.

Dan was paralyzed with astonishment.

The firing party had lowered their rifles. They had broken their ranks,
and were talking together excitedly and rapidly.

By this time the Spanish officer h