"That I so offended," broke in I, rather foolishly, "is the fault of my being an Englishman, not a Spaniard, Sir Don." Then the fellow whom Ludar had flogged suddenly found words and broke out in a torrent of rage with his accusations, which grew as he went on, and bade fair--had he but had breath to make an end of them--to picture us as very fiends. 'Twas a fine sight, by the glare of the swinging lanthorns, to see Don Alonzo stand there, calm and grave, with the admirable curl of his lips deepening as the fellow raved himself out. When the story was done, he turned shortly on him and said something in Spanish, which sent the wretch slinking off with his tail between his legs--a pitiful object to behold, but for the scowl of hate he bestowed on Ludar and me in passing. "As for you, Senor printer," said Don Alonzo, turning contemptuously to me, "you shall not make me believe all Englishmen are boors. I commend the top of the main-mast to Senor as a spot of Spanish territory where he may learn better manners. Sir Ludar,"--and he turned to Ludar before I could say a word, his bearing changing to that of a gentleman who speaks to a gentleman--"I desire a letter of import to reach the Duke- Admiral by an honourable hand. Will you take the cock-boat and deliver it?" This sudden compliment--for it was nothing short--staggered Ludar for a moment, and he looked quickly up to see if the Don were not trifling with him. But Don Alonzo was grave and serious. So Ludar said, shortly: "I will;" and the interview ended. It went sorely against my stomach then to have to mount to my perch in the main-tops, and I felt a little hurt that Ludar had put in never a word on my behalf. I remember reflecting, as I slowly scrambled to my penance, how strange it was that for so small a difference of demeanour I should be sent aloft, while Ludar was appointed to a task of honour. But I understood not Spaniards--thank Heaven!--nor did I know much about gentlemen. At the foot of the mast Ludar came up. "I am sorry for you, Humphrey," said he. "Yet you are like to get a better view of the fight than most. I shall see you soon again if the waves are kind to me, and the Englishman's shot falls wide." "Think you not, he means you to escape and get clear?" said I. "Would I were with you!" "Humphrey, you were ever a fool," said he, gravely. "Expect me back soon, and if I come not, 'twill not be my fault or yours. Get aloft, comrade, and keep a good look-out." So I went up very sadly. And presently from my high perch I heard the running of a cord and the splash of oars, and saw, on the pale water below me, a black shadow glide out from the ship's side, and lose itself in the darkness. CHAPTER TWENTY SIX. HOW LUDAR BROUGHT BACK THE DUKE'S LETTER.