"Men," he cried to some of his soldiers who had landed. "Seize this boat
at once! It is my property, taken from me by these American thieves!"
The soldiers moved to obey, but the little Catalan, Lieutenant Diego
Bernal stepped forward. Never was he more mincing, and it is likely that
he never felt more satisfaction than he did now at the role that he was
about to play.
"Gently! Gently! my good captain," he said. "I am a port officer and boats
cannot be seized at will in His Most Catholic Majesty's city of New
Orleans."
His manner stung Alvarez, who replied hotly:
"I repeat, it is my boat! It was stolen from me by these thieves from
Kaintock!"
"But that must be proved," and the lieutenant's voice was very soft and
silky. "The law is still administered in the City of New Orleans. And let
me assure you, my good captain, that the matter of the boat is a trifle.
What really concerns is your delay in coming to New Orleans with your
American captives, whom you held at your place of Beaulieu. His
Excellency, the Governor General, Don Bernardo Galvez, is very much afraid
that you have involved Spain in serious difficulties with a friendly
people."
Alvarez looked fiercely at Bernal. How much did this man know? But the
little lieutenant merely stroked his mustache, and his face was
expressionless.
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