“Now this is more than I will stand!” he exclaimed, “you cannot ignore me, Paul Cotter, until such time you choose, and then call me foul names!”

The Spaniard smiled.  The sight of Braxton Wyatt’s wrath pleased him, but he put out his hand in a detaining gesture.

“Sit down!” he said in a tone so sharp that Wyatt obeyed.  “This is no time for personal quarrels.  As I see it, an embassy has come to us and we must discuss matters of state.  Is it not so, Senor, Senor—­”

“Cotter!  Paul Cotter is my name.”

Paul felt the sneer in the Spaniard’s last words, but he hid his resentment.

“Then your proposition is this,” continued Alvarez, “that I and my men have nothing to do with the Indians, that we make no treaty, no agreement with them, that we abandon this country and go back to New Orleans.  This you propose despite the fact that the region in which we now are belongs to Spain.”

“I would not put it in quite that fashion,” replied Paul calmly.  “I suggest instead that you be our friend.  It is natural for the white races to stand together.  I suggest that you send away, also, the messenger of the tribes who comes seeking your help to slaughter women and children.”

Braxton Wyatt half rose, but again he was put down by the restraining gesture of Francisco Alvarez.

“No personal quarrels, as I stated before,” said the Spaniard, “but to you, Senor Cotter, I wish to say that I have heard your words, but it seems to me they are without weight.  I do not agree with you that the settlements of the Americans cannot be uprooted.  Nor am I sure that your title to Kaintock is good.  It was claimed in the beginning by France, and justly, but a great war gave it by might though not by right to England.  Now Spain has succeeded to France.  Here, throughout all this vast region, there is none to dispute her title.  To the east of the Mississippi great changes are going on, and it may be that Kaintock, also, will revert to my master, the king.”

He waved his hand in a gesture of finality, and a look of satisfaction came into Braxton Wyatt’s eyes.  The renegade glanced triumphantly at Paul, but Paul’s face remained calm.

“You would not proceed to any act of hostility in conjunction with the tribes, when Spain and the colonies are at peace?” said Paul to the Spaniard.

Francisco Alvarez frowned, and assumed a haughty look.

“I make neither promises nor prophecies,” he said, “I have spoken courteously to you, Senor Cotter, although you are a trespasser on the Spanish domain.  I have given you the hospitality of our camp, but I cannot answer questions pertaining to the policy of my government.”

Paul, for the first time, showed asperity.  He, too, drew himself up with a degree of haughtiness, and he looked Don Francisco Alvarez squarely in the eyes, as he replied: 

“I did not come here to ask questions.  I came merely to say that our nations are at peace, and to urge you not to help savages in a war upon white people.”