Lieutenant Diego Bernal sprang to his feet and again seized Henry's right hand in both of his.
"Senor," he exclaimed, "it is an honor to me to deem myself your friend!" Alonzo Menocal arose from his chair and came across the room.

Paul's hand moved to the butt of the pistol in his belt, but the intentions of the West Indian were not hostile.
"Thou hast conquered," he said to Henry in his queer thee- and thou-English.

"Thou art not only the taller and the larger, but also the stronger and the more skillful.

It is the first time that Alonzo Menocal was ever picked up, carried across a room, and put down in his chair, as a mother puts her baby to bed." He put out his hand in quite an American fashion, and Henry shook it, glad that the man was good-natured.

More applause greeted this act of friendship by the two and, taking advantage of it, the five went out, accompanied by Lieutenant Bernal, all in great good humor.
Night was coming on, and they felt that it was time to return to "The Galleon." A man was already lighting the smoking oil lamps that hung from the wooden arms of the posts, and from one of the forts a sentinel was calling the hour.
New Orleans looked better under the softening hue of the twilight.