On learning that the matter in hand was the sending on his way of that English mariner toward a certain Gonzales in the mountains, he closed his good eye for a moment as if in meditation.

Then opened it, very lively again.
"Possibly, possibly.

It could be done." A friendly murmur arose in the group in the doorway at the name of Gonzales, the local leader against the French.

Inquiring as to the safety of the road Byrne was glad to learn that no troops of that nation had been seen in the neighbourhood for months.

Not the smallest little detachment of these impious _polizones_.