Paul looked at him accusingly, and Francisco Alvarez unable to sustain his
straight gaze, turned his eyes aside. But Braxton Wyatt's face was full of
triumph, although he kept silent.
Paul thought rapidly. It seemed to him a traitorous design and he did not
doubt that Wyatt had instigated it, but he must submit at present. He was
powerless inside a ring of fifty soldiers. Without a word, he sat down
again on the little grassy knoll and it pleased Alvarez to affect a great
politeness, and to play with his prisoner as a cat with a mouse. He
insisted that he eat and he made his men bring him the tenderest of food,
deer meat and wild turkey, and fish, freshly caught. Finally he opened a
flask and poured wine in a small silver cup.
"It is the wine of Xeres, Senor Cotter," he said, "and you can judge how
precious it is, as it must be a full five thousand miles from its
birthplace."
He handed the little cup in grandiose manner to Paul, and Paul, meeting
his humor, accepted it in like fashion. He had not tasted wine often in
his life and he found it a strong fluid, but, in this crisis, it
strengthened him and put a new sparkle in his blood.
"Thanks," he said as he politely returned the empty cup, and resumed his
seat on the knoll.
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