“Not orange water, but plain water,” replied Henry laughing.  “But in Maryland where I was born, and in Kentucky, where I’ve been growing up, the water is very good, clear, pure, and cold.”

“Will you kindly stand up a moment?” said the lieutenant.

Henry promptly stood up and then Lieutenant Diego Bernal, standing by the side of him, was about a head the shorter.  Then the young lieutenant made a wry face.

“And I have drunk wine all my life,” he said plaintively, “and he has drunk only water!”

The two sat down again, and the others laughed.  Their talk and actions had attracted the attention of a number in the room, and a large man with great gold bands in his ears, rose and sauntered over toward them.  He was a dark fellow, evidently a West Indian Spaniard with a dash of Carib.

“I have drunk rum and wine and all other liquors all my life,” he said, “but I am neither little nor weak.”

His tone was truculent, and his flushed face indicated that he had already taken too much.

“Go away, Menocal,” said Monsieur Gilibert, in a voice half soothing, half warning.  “I do not wish my guests to be annoyed.”

But Menocal would not turn away.  He put his hand upon Henry’s shoulder.

“This is a great youth,” he said.  “They grow large in the new country to the north that they call Kaintock, but I, Alonzo Menocal of Santo Domingo, am the stronger.  Stand up, thou youth of Kaintock, by the side of me!”

Henry promptly stood up again, and the young giant towered above Alonzo Menocal of Santo Domingo, tall though the West Indian was.  Moreover he had greater breadth of shoulder and a deeper chest.

“Ha, thou Kaintock!” exclaimed Menocal, “thou art the taller and the larger, but I am the stronger, as I shall quickly prove!”

The size of Henry acted as an irritant upon Menocal, already flushed with intoxicants, and he seized the youth by the waist in an attempt to hurl him to the floor and thus prove his superior strength.  Henry, with an instant, powerful effort, threw oft the encircling arms, seized the West Indian by both shoulders, and made use of a trick that Shif’less Sol had taught him.

He thrust the man backward with a mighty shove, put out his foot, and Menocal went over it.  But the West Indian did not touch the floor.  Henry caught him by the neck and waist, and, with a great heave, lifted him high above his head.  He held him there a moment, and then said gravely to Monsieur Francois Eugene Gilibert: 

“Shall I cast him through yonder window, or put him back in the chair in which he was sitting before he came to us uninvited?”

Monsieur Gilibert looked longingly at the window—­he was a man of strength and dexterity himself—­and he admired great strength and great dexterity in others—­but motives of prudence and humanity prevailed.

“Put him back in his chair,” he said.