"Then I rejoice that I have spared you so much fatigue," Don Abrahan said, inclining his thin body in graceful obeisance, sombrero in his hand. "I am sure Mr. Henderson has repaid you, many times over, all that he ever owed you legally," Helena said. "He has told me that he came into your service in February; it is now July. You cannot rate the services of an American with those of an ignorant peon, Don Abrahan. Be generous; call it paid." "What he owes me is another matter," Roberto said. He had found the grace to remove his hat on Helena's appearance; in his fierce show of hungry vengeance now he let it fall, the hand that had held it clenched, the other on his pistol. Helena surveyed him in this dramatic pose with cool curiosity, running her eyes over him as if searching the cause of his animosity against a man whom he had degraded to a servile station. "Although I might forgive his debt, under such kindly argument by his lovely advocate, that would not free him of his assault upon my son. But you are mistaken in the matter of his debt to me; the man has lied." "He cannot escape," Roberto said fiercely, bending toward her as he spoke, his face flushed, his eyes drawn small. "It is impossible for him to reach the north and join the Americans who plot against our country there," Don Abrahan declared. "The road is guarded well, he cannot pass." "I doubt if he thinks of escaping--to the north, or anywhere, at present, Don Abrahan. A man who has done no wrong has nothing to fear." "There is no reason in the heart of youth, only fire and sympathy," Don Abrahan said. "Yankee men of this common type are brutes. This one I saw strike his captain down with a broken oar, like a savage. What weapon he held when he assaulted my son we do not know, but the bruise of it is still to be seen on his face. No, the man cannot be permitted to go free and unpunished. The safety of the community demands his correction." "He told me he struck Roberto with his hand, and no weapon," Helena said, indignant over the charge, unwise in her revelation, as she realized almost immediately. "So, you have been alone with him again!" Roberto accused. "Silence!" Don Abrahan commanded, turning stern face upon his son. "I was not alone with him; John Toberman was present." "What cruelty to say she was alone with a man!" said Doña Carlota. "The four angels who guard her chamber are not more innocent, Don Roberto." "Then if you will call Toberman and order him to lead us to the sailor's hiding-place," Don Abrahan suggested, yet with the imperative inflection of a command. "I heard him among your men, he is not one to sleep when an invasion like this is going on. Call at the door, or send Simon around to the patio."