exclaimed with boisterous
enjoyment; "and four boats now guard around us every night! Oh, they
are a great people, these Spaniards!"

Then he went on to relate how, a few hours after his arrival, a boat had
come alongside from the _Tiburon_, which was also lying in the harbour,
bearing a challenge for him from Lieutenant Silvio Fernandez, her
lieutenant, who demanded satisfaction from him for his insulting
behaviour on the occasion of the yacht being stopped by the gunboat; and
how he had accepted the challenge to fight and, being the challenged
party, had chosen fists as the weapons wherewith the duel was to be
fought: and he made merry over the lieutenant's indignation when he had
declined to accept swords or pistols as a substitute for fists. "Of
course," he concluded, "the fight did not come off, although I remained
in Havana forty-eight hours longer than I originally intended, in order
to give Senor Fernandez every chance."

During dinner, that night, Don Hermoso related to his family and guests
the particulars of the interview that had occurred between him and
Alvaros in the afternoon; and if he had, even for a moment, entertained
the slightest doubt as to the wisdom of the step which he had taken in
declining Alvaros' proposal and dismissing him from the house, it was
finally dissipated when Senorita Isolda expressed in quite unmistakable
terms her relief and gratification.

The next few days sped very pleasantly, for the young people, at any
rate, who passed their time in shooting, or in taking long rides about
the surrounding country; and Senorita Isolda frequently found herself
contrasting the genial, hearty friendliness and chivalrous courtesy of
her brother's English friends with the stiff, haughty, overbearing
manner and overweening conceit of the Spanish officers, who seemed to
think that such attentions as they chose to pay her ought to be regarded
as a vast condescension on their part.

It was about a week after the dismissal of Alvaros by Don Hermoso that,
at the end of a long and fatiguing day's shooting, ending up with a very
pleasant musical evening, the party in the casa Montijo retired,
somewhat late, to their several rooms; and Jack Singleton, weary with
much tramping under the scorching sun, lost no time in disrobing and
flinging himself, with his pyjama suit as his only covering, upon his
bed, where he almost instantly sank into a sound and dreamless sleep.
He had probably been asleep for