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 Will be renewed and rigidly enforced. This is my plan, long nursed and now matured; It is for you to act accordingly.

Enters Castrillon, leading James Travis, who looks pale and exhausted, and whose head is bandaged.

Is that thy captive, say? A beardless boy? That is indeed quite ludicrous. I fain Would know if all insurgents are mere boys.

What if they were? They made your bearded men Retreat this morn in quite a lively style.

Boy, knowest thou before whom thou standest here?

I never saw his face, still every trait His blood-shot eye, his lips so firmly set. His savage grin, his hollow cheeks,—they all Proclaim to me: I stand before "The Butcher."

Here, gentlemen, you can behold anew The fruit of Anglo-Saxon discipline: Gross impudence and wanton disrespect.