did not see the Spaniard before him, nor Braxton Wyatt, the renegade, nor
the surrounding woods, but he saw instead great states and mighty cities.

The Spaniard, despite his displeasure, was impressed by the words of the
youth, but he took hold of himself bodily, as it were, and shook off the
spell. A challenging light sprang into his cold blue eyes.

"I do not know so much about warriors," he said, "but kings may be and are
able to do what they will. If my master should choose to put forth his
strength, even to send his far-extended arm into these woods, to what
would your tiny settlements amount? A pinch of sand before a puff of wind.
Whiff! You are gone. Nor could your people east of the mountains help you,
because they, on bended knee, will soon be receiving their own lesson from
the King of England."

Francisco Alvarez snapped his fingers, as if Paul and his people were
annihilated by a single derisive gesture. Paul reddened and a dangerous
flash came into his eyes. But the natural diplomatist in him took control,
and he replied with the utmost calmness.

"It may be so, but It is not a question that should arise. The King of
Spain is at peace with us. We even hear, deep in the woods as we are, that
he may take our part against England. France already is helping us. So I
have come to ask you to take no share in plots against us, not to listen
to evil counsels, and not to turn ear to traitors, who, having been
traitors to one people, can readily be traitors to another."

Braxton Wyatt leaped to his feet, his face blazing with wrath, and his
hand flew to the hilt of the knife at his belt.