ng, senor."

"Faith, an' it's a polite nation I always said ye were."

The first speaker, a Spanish officer, laughed mockingly as he uttered
this apology.

The man to whom he addressed his words was Dan Daly.

Dan had been a boatswain's mate on the battle ship Indiana, then on the
Cruiser Columbia, and he was now filling a similar position on the
Cruiser Brooklyn. Dan Daly was Young Glory's bosom friend, and the
Irishman had been the companion of the gallant young hero in many of the
daring exploits that had given him world-wide fame.

Dan's position now appeared desperate.

A landing party from the Brooklyn had been surprised by a body of
Spaniards in a small village, not many miles from Matanzas, an important
town on the north coast of Cuba.

After a short but desperate encounter, the American sailors, overwhelmed
by numbers had retired to their boats, leaving Dan Daly behind, a
prisoner in the hands of the Spaniards.

A short, quick trial took place. Dan was denounced as a spy, and
instantly sentenced to death. It was ordered that the sentence should be
carried out at once. So now Dan stood looking death calmly in the face
as he had so often done before.

A file of soldiers was rapidly marching to the place of execution, and
their heavy tread could be plainly heard as each moment they drew
nearer.

The prisoner was standing against a wall, and immediately behind him was
a closed door, which was the rear entrance to a large house in the
village.

The house itself was at least fifty yards from this wall.

"Ah! how are the men?" said the Spanish officer. "So your waiting days
are over."

The file of soldiers drew up about thirty yards from the doomed man, and
as they grounded arms the sound sent a sickening sensation through the
brave Irishman's heart.

"Shure, it's not war, but murther's your trade," said Dan. "It's the
haythins thimselves wouldn't be afther tratin' me this way."

"Talk on," said the Spaniard, coolly, "if it does you any good. It won't
alter matters. You have been condemned, and must die."

"Ah, but it's revenged I'll be."

"How?"

"You won't ask when you see the Stars an' Stripes, the flag of the free,
floatin' over this island."

The Spaniard laughed contemptuously.

"That day will never come. Bah!" he added, stamping on the ground, "why
do I waste time talking to a miserable Yankee spy?"

The man turned away. But in an instant he came back to the prisoner.

"Spy or not,