Once I knew a cavalier of the name of de Garcia, but he is dead.' 'You lie,' I answered; whereon one of De Garcia's companions struck me across the mouth.
'Gently, friend,' said de Garcia; 'do not defile your hand by striking such rats as this, or if you must strike, use a stick.

You have heard that he confesses to passing under a false name and to being an Englishman, and therefore one of our country's foes.

To this I add upon my word of honour that to my knowledge he is a spy and a would-be murderer.

Now, gentlemen, under the commission of his majesty's representative, we are judges here, but since you may think that, having been called a liar openly by this English dog, I might be minded to deal unjustly with him, I prefer to leave the matter in your hands.' Now I tried to speak once more, but the Spaniard who had struck me, a ferocious-looking villain, drew his sword and swore that he would run me through if I dared to open my lips.

So I thought it well to keep silent.
'This Englishman would grace a yardarm very well,' he said.
De Garcia, who had begun to hum a tune indifferently, smiled, looking first at the yard and then at my neck, and the hate in his eyes seemed to burn me.
'I have a better thought than that,' said the third officer.