In this dark, hot place not over-roomy at the best--were gathered twelve
or fifteen villainous-appearing men, sitting at tables and drinking
together, waited upon by the Jew and his wife. Our hero had no trouble
in discovering which of this lot of men was Captain Sylvia, for not
only did Captain Morgan direct his glance full of war upon him, but the
Spaniard was clad with more particularity and with more show of finery
than any of the others who were there.

Him Captain Morgan approached and demanded his papers, whereunto the
other replied with such a jabber of Spanish and English that no man
could have understood what he said. To this Captain Morgan in turn
replied that he must have those papers, no matter what it might cost him
to obtain them, and thereupon drew a pistol from his sling and presented
it at the other's head.

At this threatening action the innkeeper's wife fell a-screaming, and
the Jew, as in a frenzy, besought them not to tear the house down about
his ears.

Our hero could hardly tell what followed, only that all of a sudden
there was a prodigious uproar of combat. Knives flashed everywhere,
and then a pistol was fired so close to his head that he stood like one
stunned, hearing some one crying out in a loud voice, but not knowing
whether it was a friend or a foe who had been shot. Then another pistol
shot so deafened what was left of Master Harry's hearing that his ears
rang for above an hour afterward. By this time the whole place was
full of gunpowder smoke, and there was the sound of blows and oaths and
outcrying and the clashing of knives.

As Master Harry, who had no great stomach for such a combat, and no very