"Now, by the Mother of God, I agree not with you!" said De Guardiola.

"Now, by the power of God, yet will it come to pass!" affirmed Sir
Mortimer.

The Admiral, to whom Pedro Mexia, an easy man, was making voluble
narration of the latest futile search for Manoa, turned his glance for
a moment from that frank Spaniard. But Mortimer Ferne sat at ease, a
smile upon his beautiful mouth, and his hand, palm uppermost, upon the
board. Opposite him Don Luiz de Guardiola also smiled, and if that
widening of the lips was somewhat tigerish, why, if all accounts were
true, the man himself was of that quality, as cruel, stealthy, and
remorseless as any jaguar in those deep woods behind his castle. The
Admiral returned to his discourse with Mexia, who might drop some useful
hints as to the road to El Dorado.

"We have met before," said De Guardiola. "It was you who led your
landing-party, capturing the battery."

"The fortune of war, senior! What says your proverb--"

"I gave ground, it is true.... There may come an hour when with a whip
of iron I will drive you from Nueva Cordoba. Did you lead the attack
upon the town?"

"Not so, señor. Sir John Nevil very valiantly held that honor, and to
him Nueva Cordoba surrendered."

"Last night--when I thought to take you by-surprise--were you the
leader then?"