“This is an extraordinary statement,” said Bernardo Galvez.  “Your proof?”

“Yes, your proof!” sneered Alvarez, and Braxton Wyatt sneered, too.

“This man,” said Paul, pointing to the renegade, “is from Kentucky.  We were boys together but he deserted the white people, his own people, to go with the red.  He has continually urged the Indian attack upon us and he has brought to Captain Alvarez complete maps of every settlement in Kentucky, Wareville, Marlowe, Lexington, Harrodsburg, and all the others.  Why is he here!  Why has he come to New Orleans, if not to bind the red chiefs and Captain Alvarez together in such an enterprise?”

Alvarez again burst into a laugh, ironical and taunting.  Paul flushed deeply.

“I know,” he exclaimed, “that we cannot bring you absolute proofs, but it is true, nevertheless.  The Indian chiefs, Yellow Panther and Red Eagle, have his agreement made without any authority from you, and there are the maps.”

“A map does not necessarily mean war,” said Alvarez, “even if they should exist, and they do not exist.  I took these people, arms in hand, upon His Majesty’s soil, and it was my intention to bring them to New Orleans for examination and punishment by you.”

“Doubtless it is so,” said Bernardo Galvez, “but you were in no hurry to perform the mission.  I was forced to send a message to you at Beaulieu to come to New Orleans with your prisoners, but it seems they have escaped and come of their own accord.”

“And I may state, your Excellency,” said Henry Ware rising, “that while my comrade, Paul Cotter, was a prisoner at Beaulieu, he was forced into a ring and a professional swordsman was set upon him.  That, Captain Alvarez cannot deny.  It was witnessed by too many people.”

Bernardo Galvez gave Alvarez a surprised and stern look.  The captain winced, but it was only for a moment.

“Is this true, Don Francisco?” asked the Governor General gravely.  “Did you do this thing?”

Alvarez made a gesture as if It were true, but yet a trifle.

“I confess, Your Excellency,” he said.  “I had forgotten the circumstance, but, since I am reminded of it, I will not deny.  The thing seems much worse in the telling than it was in the happening.  The young man had shown great skill with the sword—­he had disarmed me in a little encounter; I admit that, too—­and we wished to test his agility and courage against a master, who was instructed not to hurt him seriously under any circumstances.”

He spoke rapidly and lightly, almost convincingly.  But Henry Ware interrupted.

“His object,” he said, “was to have Paul Cotter killed.”

Bernardo Galvez looked from one to the other and back again.  It was the word of a stranger and a foreigner against that of a Spanish captain in his service, a man of noble lineage, and with powerful friends at the Court of Madrid.  But the seeds of doubt had been sown nevertheless.  The youth, Paul, and his comrade Henry, also, had spoken with singular earnestness.  Moreover, Francisco Alvarez was an ambitious man, and Bernardo Galvez also believed him to be unscrupulous.  If he aimed at the place of Governor General and the commitment of Spain to an alliance with England, it was a daring thing to do.