"_Cospita, hombre_, you speak fairly. If the chit of a girl has forgiven what right have I to hold out, though truth to tell I have made many a vow to the Virgin to flay your back when next we met, on account of your wretched flight. Since you ask it so sincerely, and there was always a warm corner of my tough old heart for you Senor Roderic, I see no reason why we should not shake hands and resume our former friendship." This pleased Owen, who was just in the act of putting out his hand when a rough voice outside was heard calling: "Senor de Brabant, have you slain the pig of a Yankee spy--is it safe to enter?" At which Don Porfidio uttered a choking exclamation and letting his hand drop to his side stared at the face of the young American as though the truth had flashed through his brain like an electric bolt. CHAPTER VIII. "ADIOS, BELOVED!" The old Porto Rican dignitary quickly recovered his speech--indeed, it was seldom he could be found in a position where his vocal organs suffered a relapse, since it was almost as natural for Don Porfidio to fume and roar as it was to draw breath. Suspicion, which had lain dormant in his breast during the last few minutes, on account of his surprise at discovering the identity of his opponent in the sword duel, now once more leaped into a fierce flame. He remembered why he had rushed to his bungalow quarters with such hot speed. "The spy, yes, the Yankee spy. _Por Dios!_ I had almost forgotten him. He entered here--Roblado swore it on his honor. I have never as yet seen the rascal and I jumped to the conclusion that you were he. Was it all a mistake, Senor Owen--will you tell me you are not the party Roblado saw--the party he has sworn to tear limb from limb? I await your answer, senor, and give you my word of honor I shall believe what you say," he said, anxiously, eagerly. Roderic smiled. It was not because he lacked in respect for the doughty general, who had backed up his hot words with his sword as a brave man should. The reference to Roblado amused Owen. He pictured that fire-eater who was yearning to spill his blood, waiting outside the door of the house, where the click of the swords came as sweet music to his ear, waiting until these sounds were heard no longer, when in a mixture of hope and fear he called out: "Senor de Brabant, have you slain the pig of a Yankee spy--is it safe to enter?" Of a truth Roblado's heart was as stout as that of the timid lamb gamboling on the green, and when he roared it was as fiercely as a sucking dove. Roderic was ever frank--it is a policy that pays best in the end.