FAIR MARGARET

By

H. RIDER HAGGARD

_Author of "King Solomons Mines" "She" "Jess" etc. _

WITH 15 ILLUSTRATIONS BY J. R. SKELTON

London: HUTCHINSON & CO. Paternoster Row 1907. 

CONTENTS

CHAPTER IHOW PETER MET THE SPANIARD

CHAPTER IIJOHN CASTELL

CHAPTER IIIPETER GATHERS VIOLETS

CHAPTER IVLOVERS DEAR

CHAPTER VCASTELL'S SECRET

CHAPTER VIFAREWELL

CHAPTER VIINEWS FROM SPAIN

CHAPTER VIIID'AGUILAR SPEAKS

CHAPTER IXTHE SNARE

CHAPTER XTHE CHASE

CHAPTER XITHE MEETING ON THE SEA

CHAPTER XIIFATHER HENRIQUES

CHAPTER XIIITHE ADVENTURE OF THE INN

CHAPTER XIVINEZ AND HER GARDEN

CHAPTER XVPETER PLAYS A PART

CHAPTER XVIBETTY SHOWS HER TEETH

CHAPTER XVIITHE PLOT

CHAPTER XVIIITHE HOLY HERMANDAD

CHAPTER XIXBETTY PAYS HER DEBTS

CHAPTER XXISABELLA OF SPAIN

CHAPTER XXIBETTY STATES HER CASE

CHAPTER XXIITHE DOOM OF JOHN CASTELL

CHAPTER XXIIIFATHER HENRIQUES AND THE BAKER'S OVEN

CHAPTER XXIVTHE FALCON STOOPS

CHAPTER XXVHOW THE _MARGARET_ WON OUT TO SEA

ENVOI

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS;

"A DOVE, COMRADES!--A DOVE!"

CASTELL DECLARES HIMSELF A JEW

"YOU MEAN THAT YOU WISH TO MURDER ME"

MARGARET APPEARED DESCENDING THE BROAD OAK STAIRS

IN ANOTHER MOMENT THAT STEEL WOULD HAVE PIERCED HIS HEART

THE GALE CAUGHT HIM AND BLEW HIM TO AND FRO

"LADY, " HE SAID, "THIS IS NO DEED OF MINE"

A CRUEL-LOOKING KNIFE AND A NAKED ARM PROJECTEDTHROUGH THE PANELLING

"MY NAME IS INEZ. YOU WANDER STILL, SEŅOR"

"THERE ARE OTHERS WHERE THEY CAME FROM"

"TO-DAY I DARE TO HOPE THAT IT MAY BE OTHERWISE"

"WAY! MAKE WAY FOR THE MARCHIONESS OF MORELLA!"

"I CUT HIM DOWN, AND BY MISFORTUNE KILLED HIM"

"WE ARE PLAYERS IN A STRANGE GAME, MY LADY MARGARET"

"YOU WILL HAVE TO FIGHT ME FIRST, PETER"

FAIR MARGARET

CHAPTER I

HOW PETER MET THE SPANIARD

It was a spring afternoon in the sixth year of the reign of King HenryVII. Of England. There had been a great show in London, for that day hisGrace opened the newly convened Parliament, and announced to hisfaithful people--who received the news with much cheering, since war isever popular at first--his intention of invading France, and of leadingthe English armies in person. In Parliament itself, it is true, thegeneral enthusiasm was somewhat dashed when allusion was made to thefinding of the needful funds; but the crowds without, formed for themost part of persons who would not be called upon to pay the money, didnot suffer that side of the question to trouble them. So when theirgracious liege appeared, surrounded by his glittering escort of noblesand men-at-arms, they threw their caps into the air, and shoutedthemselves hoarse. 

The king himself, although he was still young in years, already a weary-looking man with a fine, pinched face, smiled a little sarcastically attheir clamour; but, remembering how glad he should be to hear it whostill sat upon a somewhat doubtful throne, said a few soft words, andsending for two or three of the leaders of the people, gave them hisroyal hand, and suffered certain children to touch his robe that theymight be cured of the Evil. Then, having paused a while to receivepetitions from poor folk, which he handed to one of his officers to beread, amidst renewed shouting he passed on to the great feast that wasmade ready in his palace of Westminster. 

Among those who rode near to him was the ambassador, de Ayala, accredited to the English Court by the Spanish sovereigns, Ferdinand andIsabella, and his following of splendidly attired lords and secretaries. That Spain was much in favour there was evident from his place in theprocession. How could it be otherwise, indeed, seeing that already, fouryears or more before, at the age of twelve months, Prince Arthur, theeldest son of the king, had been formally affianced to the InfantaCatherine, daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, aged one year and ninemonths? For in those days it was thought well that the affections ofprinces and princesses should be directed early into such paths as theirroyal parents and governors considered likely to prove most profitableto themselves. 

At the ambassador's left hand, mounted on a fine black horse, anddressed richly, but simply, in black velvet, with a cap of the samematerial in which was fastened a single pearl, rode a tall cavalier. Hewas about five-and-thirty years of age, and very handsome, havingpiercing black eyes and a stern, clean-cut face. 

In every man, it is said, there can be found a resemblance, often faroff and fanciful enough, to some beast or bird or other creature, andcertainly in this case it was not hard to discover. The man resembled aneagle, which, whether by chance or design, was the crest he bore uponhis servants' livery, and the trappings of his horse. The unflinchingeyes, the hooked nose, the air of pride and mastery, the thin, longhand, the quick grace of movement, all suggested that king of birds, suggested also, as his motto said, that what he sought he would find, and what he found he would keep. Just now he was watching the interviewbetween the English king and the leaders of the crowd whom his Grace hadbeen pleased to summon, with an air of mingled amusement and contempt. 

"You find the scene strange, Marquis, " said the ambassador, glancing athim shrewdly. 

"Seņor, here in England, if it pleases your Excellency, " he answeredgravely, "Seņor d'Aguilar. The marquis you mentioned lives in Spain--anaccredited envoy to the Moors of Granada; the Seņor d'Aguilar, a humbleservant of Holy Church, " and he crossed himself, "travels abroad--uponthe Church's business, and that of their Majesties'. "

"And his own too, sometimes, I believe, " answered the ambassador drily. "But to be frank, what I do not understand about you, Seņor d'Aguilar, as I know that you have abandoned political ambitions, is why you do notenter my profession, and put on the black robe once and for all. Whatdid I say--black? With your opportunities and connections it might bered by now, with a hat to match. "

The Seņor d'Aguilar smiled a little as he replied. 

"You said, I think, that sometimes I travel on my own business. Well, there is your answer. You are right, I have abandoned worldlyambitions--most of them. They are troublesome, and for some people, ifthey be born too high and yet not altogether rightly, very dangerous. The acorn of ambition often grows into an oak from which men hang. "

"Or into a log upon which men's heads can be cut off. Seņor, Icongratulate you. You have the wisdom that grasps the substance and letsthe shadows flit. It is really very rare. "

"You asked why I do not change the cut of my garments, " went ond'Aguilar, without noticing the interruption. "Excellency, to be frank, because of my own business. I have failings like other men. Forinstance, wealth is that substance of which you spoke, rule is theshadow; he who has the wealth has the real rule. Again, bright eyes maydraw me, or a hate may seek its slaking, and these things do not suitrobes, black or red. "

"Yet many such things have been done by those who wore them, " repliedthe ambassador with meaning. 

"Aye, Excellency, to the discredit of Holy Church, as you, a priest, know better than most men. Let the earth be evil as it must; but let theChurch be like heaven above it, pure, unstained, the vault of prayer, the house of mercy and of righteous judgment, wherein walks no sinnersuch as I, " and again he crossed himself. 

There was a ring of earnestness in the speaker's voice that caused deAyala, who knew something of his private reputation, to look at himcuriously. 

"A true fanatic, and therefore to us a useful man, " he thought tohimself, "though one who knows how to make the best of two worlds aswell as most of them;" but aloud he said, "No wonder that our Churchrejoices in such a son, and that her enemies tremble when he lifts hersword. But, Seņor, you have not told me what you think of all thisceremony and people. "

"The people I know well, Excellency, for I dwelt among them in pastyears and speak their language; and that is why I have left Granada tolook after itself for a while, and am here to-day, to watch and makereport----" He checked himself, then added, "As for the ceremony, were Ia king I would have it otherwise. Why, in that house just now thosevulgar Commons--for so they call them, do they not?--almost threatenedtheir royal master when he humbly craved a tithe of the country's wealthto fight the country's war. Yes, and I saw him turn pale and tremble atthe rough voices, as though their echoes shook his throne. I tell you, Excellency, that the time will come in this land when those Commons willbe king. Look now at that fellow whom his Grace holds by the hand, calling him 'sir' and 'master, ' and yet whom he knows to be, as I do, aheretic, a Jew in disguise, whose sins, if he had his rights, should bepurged by fire. Why, to my knowledge last night, that Israelite saidthings against the Church----"

"Whereof the Church, or its servant, doubtless made notes to be usedwhen the time comes, " broke in de Ayala. "But the audience is done, andhis Highness beckons us forward to the feast, where there will be noheretics to vex us, and, as it is Lent, not much to eat. Come, Seņor!for we stop the way. "

Three hours had gone by, and the sun sank redly, for even at that springseason it was cold upon the marshy lands of Westminster, and there wasfrost in the air. On the open space opposite to the banqueting-hall, infront of which were gathered squires and grooms with horses, stood andwalked many citizens of London, who, their day's work done, came to seethe king pass by in state. Among these were a man and a lady, the latterattended by a handsome young woman, who were all three sufficientlystriking in appearance to attract some notice in the throng. 

The man, a person of about thirty years of age, dressed in a merchant'srobe of cloth, and wearing a knife in his girdle, seemed over six feetin height, while his companion, in her flowing, fur-trimmed cloak, was, for a woman, also of unusual stature. He was not, strictly speaking, ahandsome man, being somewhat too high of forehead and prominent offeature; moreover, one of his clean-shaven cheeks, the right, was marredby the long, red scar of a sword-cut which stretched from the temple tothe strong chin. His face, however, was open and manly, if rather stern, and the grey eyes were steady and frank. It was not the face of amerchant, but rather that of one of good degree, accustomed to camps andwar. For the rest, his figure was well-built and active, and his voicewhen he spoke, which was seldom, clear and distinct to loudness, butcultivated and pleasant--again, not the voice of a merchant. 

Of the lady's figure little could be seen because of the long cloak thathid it, but the face, which appeared within its hood when she turned andthe dying sunlight filled her eyes, was lovely indeed, for from herbirth to her death-day Margaret Castell--fair Margaret, as she wascalled--had this gift to a degree that is rarely granted to woman. Rounded and flower-like was that face, most delicately tinted also, with rich and curving lips and a broad, snow-white brow. But the wonderof it, what distinguished her above everything else from other beautifulwomen of her time, was to be found in her eyes, for these were not blueor grey, as might have been expected from her general colouring, butlarge, black, and lustrous; soft, too, as the eyes of a deer, andoverhung by curling lashes of an ebon black. The effect of these eyes ofhers shining above those tinted cheeks and beneath the brow of ivorywhiteness was so strange as to be almost startling. They caught thebeholder and held him, as might the sudden sight of a rose in snow, orthe morning star hanging luminous among the mists of dawn. Also, although they were so gentle and modest, if that beholder chanced to bea man on the good side of fifty it was often long before he could forgetthem, especially if he were privileged to see how well they matched thehair of chestnut, shading into black, that waved above them and fell, tress upon tress, upon the shapely shoulders and down to theslender waist. 

Peter Brome, for he was so named, looked a little anxiously about him atthe crowd, then, turning, addressed Margaret in his strong, clear voice. 

"There are rough folk around, " he said; "do you think you should stophere? Your father might be angered, Cousin. "

Here it may be explained that in reality their kinship was of theslightest, a mere dash of blood that came to her through her mother. Still they called each other thus, since it is a convenient title thatmay mean much or nothing. 

"Oh! why not?" she answered in her rich, slow tones, that had in themsome foreign quality, something soft and sweet as the caress of asouthern wind at night. "With you, Cousin, " and she glanced approvinglyat his stalwart, soldier-like form, "I have nothing to fear from men, however rough, and I do greatly want to see the king close by, and sodoes Betty. Don't you, Betty?" and she turned to her companion. 

Betty Dene, whom she addressed, was also a cousin of Margaret, thoughonly a distant connection of Peter Brome. She was of very good blood, but her father, a wild and dissolute man, had broken her mother's heart, and, like that mother, died early, leaving Betty dependent uponMargaret's mother, in whose house she had been brought up. This Bettywas in her way remarkable, both in body and mind. Fair, splendidlyformed, strong, with wide, bold, blue eyes and ripe red lips, such wasthe fashion of her. In speech she was careless and vigorous. Fond of thesociety of men, and fonder still of their admiration, for she wasromantic and vain, Betty at the age of five-and-twenty was yet anhonest girl, and well able to take care of herself, as more than one ofher admirers had discovered. Although her position was humble, at heartshe was very proud of her lineage, ambitious also, her great desirebeing to raise herself by marriage back to the station from which herfather's folly had cast her down--no easy business for one who passed asa waiting-woman and was without fortune. 

For the rest, she loved and admired her cousin Margaret more than anyone on earth, while Peter she liked and respected, none the less perhapsbecause, try as she would--and, being nettled, she did try hardenough--her beauty and other charms left him quite unmoved. 

In answer to Margaret's question she laughed and answered:

"Of course. We are all too busy up in Holborn to get the chance of somany shows that I should wish to miss one. Still, Master Peter is verywise, and I am always counselled to obey him. Also, it will soonbe dark. "

"Well, well, " said Margaret with a sigh and a little shrug of hershoulders, "as you are both against me, perhaps we had best be going. Next time I come out walking, cousin Peter, it shall be with some onewho is more kind. "

Then she turned and began to make her way as quickly as she couldthrough the thickening crowd. Finding this difficult, before Peter couldstop her, for she was very swift in her movements, Margaret bore to theright, entering the space immediately in front of the banqueting-hallwhere the grooms with horses and soldiers were assembled awaiting theirlords, for here there was more room to walk. For a few moments Peter andBetty were unable to escape from the mob which closed in behind her, andthus it came about that Margaret found herself alone among these people, in the midst, indeed, of the guard of the Spanish ambassador de Ayala, men who were notorious for their lawlessness, for they reckoned upontheir master's privilege to protect them. Also, for the most part, theywere just then more or less in liquor. 

One of these fellows, a great, red-haired Scotchman, whom the priest-diplomatist had brought with him from that country, where he had alsobeen ambassador, suddenly perceiving before him a woman who appeared tobe young and pretty, determined to examine her more closely, and to thisend made use of a rude stratagem. Pretending to stumble, he grasped atMargaret's cloak as though to save himself, and with a wrench tore itopen, revealing her beautiful face and graceful figure. 

"A dove, comrades!--a dove!" he shouted in a voice thick with drink, "who has flown here to give me a kiss. " And, casting his long arms abouther, he strove to draw her to him. 

"Peter! Help me, Peter!" cried Margaret as she struggled fiercely in hisgrip. 

"No, no, if you want a saint, my bonny lass, " said the drunkenScotchman, "Andrew is as good as Peter, " at which witticism those of theothers who understood him laughed, for the man's name was Andrew. 

Next instant they laughed again, and to the ruffian Andrew it seemed asthough suddenly he had fallen into the power of a whirlwind. At leastMargaret was wrenched away from him, while he spun round and round tofall violently upon his face. 

"That's Peter!" exclaimed one of the soldiers in Spanish. 

"Yes, " answered another, "and a patron saint worth having"; while athird pulled the recumbent Andrew to his feet. 

The man looked like a devil. His cap had gone, and his fiery red hairwas smeared with mud. Moreover, his nose had been broken on a cobblestone, and blood from it poured all over him, while his little red eyesglared like a ferret's, and his face turned a dirty white with pain andrage. Howling out something in Scotch, of a sudden he drew his sword andrushed straight at his adversary, purposing to kill him. 

Now, Peter had no sword, but only his short knife, which he found notime to draw. In his hand, however, he carried a stout holly staff shodwith iron, and, while Margaret clasped her hands and Betty screamed, onthis he caught the descending blow, and, furious as it was, parried andturned it. Then, before the man could strike again, that staff was up, and Peter had leapt upon him. It fell with fearful force, breaking theScotchman's shoulder and sending him reeling back. 

"Shrewdly struck, Peter! Well done, Peter!" shouted the spectators. 

But Peter neither saw nor heard them, for he was mad with rage at theinsult that had been offered to Margaret. Up flew the iron-tipped staffagain, and down it came, this time full on Andrew's head, which itshattered like an egg-shell, so that the brute fell backwards, dead. 

For a moment there was silence, for the joke had taken a tragic turn. Then one of the Spaniards said, glancing at the prostrate form:

"Name of God! our mate is done for. That merchant hits hard. "

Instantly there arose a murmur among the dead man's comrades, and one ofthem cried:

"Cut him down!"

Understanding that he was to be set on, Peter sprang forward andsnatched the Scotchman's sword from the ground where it had fallen, atthe same time dropping his staff and drawing his dagger with the lefthand. Now he was well armed, and looked so fierce and soldier-like as hefaced his foes, that, although four or five blades were out, they heldback. Then Peter spoke for the first time, for he knew that against somany he had no chance. 

"Englishmen, " he cried in ringing tones, but without shifting his heador glance, "will you see me murdered by these Spanish dogs?"

There was a moment's pause, then a voice behind cried:

"By God! not I, " and a brawny Kentish man-at-arms ranged up beside him, his cloak thrown over his left arm, and his sword in his right hand. 

"Nor I, " said another. "Peter Brome and I have fought together before. "

"Nor I, " shouted a third, "for we were born in the same Essex hundred. "

And so it went on, until there were as many stout Englishmen at his sideas there were Spaniards and Scotchmen before him. 

"That will do, " said Peter, "we want no more than man to man. Look tothe women, comrades behind there. Now, you murderers, if you would seeEnglish sword-play, come on, or, if you are afraid, let us go in peace. "

"Yes, come on, you foreign cowards, " shouted the mob, who did not lovethese turbulent and privileged guards. 

By now the Spanish blood was up, and the old race-hatred awake. Inbroken English the sergeant of the guard shouted out some filthy insultabout Margaret, and called upon his followers to "cut the throats of theLondon swine. " Swords shone red in the red sunset light, men shiftedtheir feet and bent forward, and in another instant a great and bloodyfray would have begun. 

But it did not begin, for at that moment a tall seņor, who had beenstanding in the shadow and watching all that passed, walked between theopposing lines, as he went striking up the swords with his arm. 

"Have done, " said d'Aguilar quietly, for it was he, speaking in Spanish. "You fools! do you want to see every Spaniard in London torn to pieces?As for that drunken brute, " and he touched the corpse of Andrew with hisfoot, "he brought his death upon himself. Moreover, he was not aSpaniard, there is no blood quarrel. Come, obey me! or must I tell youwho I am?"

"We know you, Marquis, " said the leader in a cowed voice. "Sheath yourswords, comrades; after all, it is no affair of ours. "

The men obeyed somewhat unwillingly; but at this moment arrived theambassador de Ayala, very angry, for he had heard of the death of hisservant, demanding, in a loud voice, that the man who had killed himshould be given up. 

"We will not give him up to a Spanish priest, " shouted the mob. "Comeand take him if you want him, " and once more the tumult grew, whilePeter and his companions made ready to fight. 

Fighting there would have been also, notwithstanding all that d'Aguilarcould do to prevent it; but of a sudden the noise began to die away, anda hush fell upon the place. Then between the uplifted weapons walked ashort, richly clad man, who turned suddenly and faced the mob. It wasKing Henry himself. 

"Who dare to draw swords in my streets, before my very palace doors?" heasked in a cold voice. 

A dozen hands pointed at Peter. 

"Speak, " said the king to him. 

"Margaret, come here, " cried Peter; and the girl was thrust forward tohim. 

"Sire, " he said, "that man, " and he pointed to the corpse of Andrew, "tried to do wrong to this maiden, John Castell's child. I, her cousin, threw him down. He drew his sword and came at me, and I killed him withmy staff. See, it lies there. Then the Spaniards--his comrades--wouldhave cut me down, and I called for English help. Sire, that is all. "

The king looked him up and down. 

"A merchant by your dress, " he said; "but a soldier by your mien. Howare you named?"

"Peter Brome, Sire. "

"Ah! There was a certain Sir Peter Brome who fell at Bosworth Field--notfighting for me, " and he smiled. "Did you know him perchance?"

"He was my father, Sire, and I saw him slain--aye, and slew the slayer. "

"Well can I believe it, " answered Henry, considering him. "But how comesit that Peter Brome's son, who wears that battle scar across his face, is clad in merchant's woollen?"

"Sire, " said Peter coolly, "my father sold his lands, lent his all tothe Crown, and I have never rendered the account. Therefore I must liveas I can. "

The king laughed outright as he replied:

"I like you, Peter Brome, though doubtless you hate me. "

"Not so, Sire. While Richard lived I fought for Richard. Richard isgone; and, if need be, I would fight for Henry, who am an Englishman, and serve England's king. "

"Well said, and I may have need of you yet, nor do I bear you anygrudge. But, I forgot, is it thus that you would fight for me, bycausing riot in my streets, and bringing me into trouble with my goodfriends the Spaniards?"

"Sire, you know the story. "

"I know your story, but who bears witness to it? Do you, maiden, Castellthe merchant's daughter?"

"Aye, Sire. The man whom my cousin killed maltreated me, whose onlywrong was that I waited to see your Grace pass by. Look on mytorn cloak. "

"Little wonder that he killed him for the sake of those eyes of yours, maiden. But this witness may be tainted. " And again he smiled, adding, "Is there no other?"

Betty advanced to speak, but d'Aguilar, stepping forward, lifted hisbonnet from his head, bowed and said in English:

"Your Grace, there is; I saw it all. This gallant gentleman had noblame. It was the servants of my countryman de Ayala who were to blame, at any rate at first, and afterwards came the trouble. "

Now the ambassador de Ayala broke in, claiming satisfaction for thekilling of his man, for he was still very angry, and saying that if itwere not given, he would report the matter to their Majesties of Spain, and let them know how their servants were treated in London. 

At these words Henry grew grave, who, above all things, wished to giveno offence to Ferdinand and Isabella. 

"You have done an ill day's work, Peter Brome, " he said, "and one ofwhich my attorney must consider. Meanwhile, you will be best in safekeeping, " and he turned as though to order his arrest. 

"Sire, " exclaimed Peter, "I live at Master Castell's house in Holborn, nor shall I run away. "

"Who will answer for that, " asked the king, "or that you will not makemore riots on your road thither?"

"I will answer, your Grace, " said d'Aguilar quietly, "if this lady willpermit that I escort her and her cousin home. Also, " he added in a lowvoice, "it seems to me that to hale him to a prison would be more liketo breed a riot than to let him go. "

Henry glanced round him at the great crowd who were gathered watchingthis scene, and saw something in their faces which caused him to agreewith d'Aguilar. 

"So be it, Marquis, " he said. "I have your word, and that of PeterBrome, that he will be forthcoming if called upon. Let that dead man belaid in the Abbey till to-morrow, when this matter shall be inquired of. Excellency, give me your arm; I have greater questions of which I wishto speak with you ere we sleep. "

CHAPTER II

JOHN CASTELL

When the king was gone, Peter turned to those men who had stood by himand thanked them very heartily. Then he said to Margaret:

"Come, Cousin, that is over for this time, and you have had your wishand seen his Grace. Now, the sooner you are safe at home, the better Ishall be pleased. "

"Certainly, " she replied. "I have seen more than I desire to see again. But before we go let us thank this Spanish seņor----" and she paused. 

"D'Aguilar, Lady, or at least that name will serve, " said the Spaniardin his cultured voice, bowing low before her, his eyes fixed all thewhile upon her beautiful face. 

"Seņor d'Aguilar, I thank you, and so does my cousin, Peter Brome, whoselife perhaps you saved--don't you, Peter? Oh! and so will my father. "

"Yes, " answered Peter somewhat sulkily, "I thank him very much; thoughas for my life, I trusted to my own arm and to those of my friendsthere. Good night, Sir. "

"I fear, Seņor, " answered d'Aguilar with a smile, "that we cannot partjust yet. You forget, I have become bond for you, and must thereforeaccompany you to where you live, that I may certify the place. Also, perhaps, it is safest, for these countrymen of mine are revengeful, and, were I not with you, might waylay you. "

Now, seeing from his face that Peter was still bent upon declining thisescort, Margaret interposed quickly. 

"Yes, that is wisest, also my father would wish it. Seņor, I will showyou the way, " and, accompanied by d'Aguilar, who gallantly offered herhis arm, she stepped forward briskly, leaving Peter to follow with hercousin Betty. 

Thus they walked in the twilight across the fields and through thenarrow streets beyond that lay between Westminster and Holborn. In fronttripped Margaret beside her stately cavalier, with whom she was soontalking fast enough in Spanish, a tongue which, for reasons that shallbe explained, she knew well, while behind, the Scotchman's sword stillin his hand, and the handsome Betty on his arm, came Peter Brome in theworst of humours. 

John Castell lived in a large, rambling, many-gabled, house, just offthe main thoroughfare of Holborn, that had at the back of it a gardensurrounded by a high wall. Of this ancient place the front part servedas a shop, a store for merchandise, and an office, for Castell was avery wealthy trader--how wealthy none quite knew--who exported woollenand other goods to Spain under the royal licence, bringing thence in hisown ships fine, raw Spanish wool to be manufactured in England, and withit velvet, silks, and wine from Granada; also beautiful inlaid armour ofToledo steel. Sometimes, too, he dealt in silver and copper from themountain mines, for Castell was a banker as well as a merchant, orrather what answered to that description in those days. 

It was said that beneath his shop were dungeon-like store-vaults, builtof thick cemented stone, with iron doors through which no thief couldbreak, and filled with precious things. However this might be, certainlyin that great house, which in the time of the Plantagenets had been thefortified palace of a noble, existed chambers whereof he alone knew thesecret, since no one else, not even his daughter or Peter, ever crossedtheir threshold. Also, there slept in it a number of men-servants, verystout fellows, who wore knives or swords beneath their cloaks, andwatched at night to see that all was well. For the rest, theliving-rooms of this house where Castell, Margaret his daughter, andPeter dwelt, were large and comfortable, being new panelled with oakafter the Tudor fashion, and having deep windows that looked out uponthe garden. 

When Peter and Betty reached the door, not that which led into the shop, but another, it was to find that Margaret and d'Aguilar, who werewalking very quickly, must have already passed it, since it was shut, and they had vanished. At his knock--a hard one--a serving-man opened, and Peter strode through the vestibule, or ante-chamber, into the hall, where for the most part they ate and sat, for thence he heard the soundof voices. It was a fine room, lit by hanging lamps of olive oil, andhaving a large, open hearth where a fire burned pleasantly, while theoaken table in front of it was set for supper. Margaret, who had thrownoff her cloak, stood warming herself at the fire, and the Seņord'Aguilar, comfortably seated in a big chair, which he seemed to haveknown for years, leaned back, his bonnet in his hand, and watchedher idly. 

Facing them stood John Castell, a stout, dark-bearded man of betweenfifty and sixty years of age, with a clever, clean-cut face and piercingblack eyes. Now, in the privacy of his home, he was very richly attiredin a robe trimmed with the costliest fur, and fastened with a gold chainthat had a jewel on its clasp. When Castell served in his shop or sat inhis counting-house no merchant in London was more plainly dressed; butat night, loving magnificence at heart, it was his custom thus toindulge in it, even when there were none to see him. From the way inwhich he stood, and the look upon his face, Peter knew at once that hewas much disturbed. Hearing his step, Castell wheeled round andaddressed him at once in the clear, decided voice which was hischaracteristic. 

"What is this I am told, Peter? A man killed by you before the palacegates? A broil! A public riot in which things went near to greatbloodshed between the English, with you at the head of them, and thebodyguard of his Excellency, de Ayala. You arrested by the king, andbailed out by this seņor. Is all this true?"

"Quite, " answered Peter calmly. 

"Then I am ruined; we are all ruined. Oh! it was an evil hour when Itook one of your bloodthirsty trade into my house. What have youto say?"

"Only that I want my supper, " said Peter. "Those who began the story canfinish it, for I think their tongues are nimbler than my own, " and heglanced wrathfully at Margaret, who laughed outright, while even thesolemn d'Aguilar smiled. 

"Father, " broke in Margaret, "do not be angry with cousin Peter, whoseonly fault is that he hits too hard. It is I who am to blame, for Iwished to stop to see the king against his will and Betty's, andthen--then that brute, " and her eyes filled with tears of shame andanger, "caught hold of me, and Peter threw him down, and afterwards, when he attacked him with a sword, Peter killed him with his staff, and--all the rest happened. "

"It was beautifully done, " said d'Aguilar in his soft voice and foreignaccent. "I saw it all, and made sure that you were dead. The parry Iunderstood, but the way you got your smashing blow in before he couldthrust again--ah! that----"

"Well, well, " said Castell, "let us eat first and talk afterwards. Seņord'Aguilar, you will honour my poor board, will you not, though it ishard to come from a king's feast to a merchant's fare?"

"It is I who am honoured, " answered d'Aguilar; "and as for the feast, his Grace is sparing in this Lenten season. At least, I could get littleto eat, and, therefore, like the seņor Peter, I am starved. "

Castell rang a silver bell which stood near by, whereon servants broughtin the meal, which was excellent and plentiful. While they were settingit on the table, the merchant went to a cupboard in the wainscoting, andtook thence two flasks, which he uncorked himself with care, saying thathe would give the seņor some wine of his own country. This done, he saida Latin grace and crossed himself, an example which d'Aguilar followed, remarking that he was glad to find that he was in the house of a goodChristian. 

"What else did you think that I should be?" asked Castell, glancing athim shrewdly. 

"I did not think at all, Seņor, " he answered; "but alas! every one isnot a Christian. In Spain, for instance, we have many Moors and--Jews. "

"I know, " said Castell, "for I trade with them both. "

"Then you have never visited Spain?"

"No; I am an English merchant. But try that wine, Seņor; it came fromGranada, and they say that it is good. "

D'Aguilar tasted it, then drank off his glass. 

"It is good, indeed, " he said; "I have not its equal in my own cellarsthere. "

"Do you, then, live in Granada, Seņor d'Aguilar?" asked Castell. 

"Sometimes, when I am not travelling. I have a house there which mymother left me. She loved the town, and bought an old palace from theMoors. Would you not like to see Granada, Seņora?" he asked, turning toMargaret as though to change the subject. "There is a wonderful buildingthere called the Alhambra; it overlooks my house. "

"My daughter is never likely to see it, " broke in Castell; "I do notpurpose that she should visit Spain. "

"Ah! you do not purpose; but who knows? God and His saints alone, " andagain he crossed himself, then fell to describing the beautiesof Granada. 

He was a fine and ready talker, and his voice was very pleasant, soMargaret listened attentively enough, watching his face, and forgettingto eat, while her father and Peter watched them both. At length the mealcame to an end, and when the serving-men had cleared away the dishes, and they were alone, Castell said:

"Now, kinsman Peter, tell me your story. "

So Peter told him, in few words, yet omitting nothing. 

"I find no blame in you, " said the merchant when he had done, "nor do Isee how you could have acted otherwise than you did. It is Margaret whomI blame, for I only gave her leave to walk with you and Betty by theriver, and bade her beware of crowds. "

"Yes, father, the fault is mine, and for it I pray your pardon, " saidMargaret, so meekly that her father could not find the heart to scoldher as he had meant to do. 

"You should ask Peter's pardon, " he muttered, "seeing that he is like tobe laid by the heels in a dungeon over this business, yes, and put uponhis trial for causing the man's death. Remember, he was in the serviceof de Ayala, with whom our liege wishes to stand well, and de Ayala, itseems, is very angry. "

Now Margaret grew frightened, for the thought that harm might come toPeter cut her heart. The colour left her cheek, and once again her eyesswam with tears. 

"Oh! say not so, " she exclaimed. "Peter, will you not fly at once?"

"By no means, " he answered decidedly. "Did I not say it to the king, andis not this foreign lord bond for me?"

"What can be done?" she went on; then, as a thought struck her, turnedto d'Aguilar, and, clasping her slender hands, looked pleadingly intohis face and asked: "Seņor, you who are so powerful, and the friend ofgreat people, will you not help us?"

"Am I not here to do so, Seņora? Although I think that a man who cancall half London to his back, as I saw your cousin do, needs little helpfrom me. But listen, my country has two ambassadors at this Court--deAyala, whom he has offended, and Doctor de Puebla, the friend of theking; and, strangely enough, de Puebla does not love de Ayala. Yet hedoes love money, which perhaps will be forthcoming. Now, if a charge isto be laid over this brawl, it will probably be done, not by thechurchman, de Ayala, but through de Puebla, who knows your laws andCourt, and--do you understand me, Seņor Castell?"

"Yes, " answered the merchant; "but how am I to get at de Puebla? If Iwere to offer him money, he would only ask more. "

"I see that you know his Excellency, " remarked d'Aguilar drily. "You areright, no money should be offered; a present must be made after thepardon is delivered--not before. Oh! de Puebla knows that John Castell'sword is as good in London as it is among the Jews and infidels ofGranada and the merchants of Seville, at both of which places I haveheard it spoken. "

At this speech Castell's eyes flickered, but he only answered:

"May be; but how shall I approach him, Seņor?"

"If you will permit me, that is my task. Now, to what amount will you goto save our friend here from inconvenience? Fifty gold angels?"

"It is too much, " said Castell; "a knave like that is not worth ten. Indeed, he was the assailant, and nothing should be paid at all. "

"Ah! Seņor, the merchant is coming out in you; also the dangerous manwho thinks that right should rule the world, not kings--I mean might. The knave is worth nothing, but de Puebla's word in Henry's ear isworth much. "

"Fifty angels be it then, " said Castell, "and I thank you, Seņor, foryour good offices. Will you take the money now?"

"By no means; not till I bring the debt discharged. Seņor, I will comeagain and let you know how matters stand. Farewell, fair maiden; may thesaints intercede for that dead rogue who brought me into your company, and that of your father and your cousin of the quick eye and thestalwart arm! Till we meet again, " and, still murmuring compliments, hebowed himself out of the room in charge of a manservant. 

"Thomas, " said Castell to this servant when he returned, "you are adiscreet fellow; put on your cap and cloak, follow that Spaniard, seewhere he lodges, and find out all you can about him. Go now, swiftly. "

The man bowed and went, and presently Castell, listening, heard a sidedoor shut behind him. Then he turned and said to the other two:

"I do not like this business. I smell trouble in it, and I do not likethe Spaniard either. "

"He seems a very gallant gentleman, and high-born, " said Margaret. 

"Aye, very gallant--too gallant, and high-born--too high-born, unless Iam mistaken. So gallant and so high-born----" And he checked himself, then added, "Daughter, in your wilfulness you have stirred a great rock. Go to your bed and pray God that it may not fall upon your house andcrush it and us. "

So Margaret crept away frightened, a little indignant also, for afterall, what wrong had she done? And why should her father mistrust thissplendid-looking Spanish cavalier?

When she was gone, Peter, who all this while had said little, looked upand asked straight out:

"What are you afraid of, Sir?"

"Many things, Peter. First, that use will be made of this matter toextort much money from me, who am known to be rich, which is a sin bestabsolved by angels. Secondly, that if I make trouble about paying, otherquestions will be set afoot. "

"What questions?"

"Have you ever heard of the new Christians, Peter, whom the Spaniardscall Maranos?"

He nodded. 

"Then you know that a Marano is a converted Jew. Now, as it chances--Itell you who do not break secrets--my father was a Marano. His name doesnot matter--it is best forgotten; but he fled from Spain to England forreasons of his own, and took that of the country whence hecame--Castile, or Castell. Also, as it is not lawful for Jews to live inEngland, he became converted to the Christian faith--seek not to knowhis motives, they are buried with him. Moreover, he converted me, hisonly child, who was but ten years old, and cared little whether I sworeby 'Father Abraham' or by the 'Blessed Mary. ' The paper of my baptismlies in my strong box still. Well, he was clever, and built up thisbusiness, and died unharmed five-and-twenty years ago, leaving mealready rich. That same year I married an Englishwoman, your mother'ssecond cousin, and loved her and lived happily with her, and gave herall her heart could wish. But after Margaret's birth, three-and-twentyyears gone by, she never had her health, and eight years ago she died. You remember her, since she brought you here when you were a stout lad, and made me promise afterwards that I would always be your friend, forexcept your father, Sir Peter, none other of your well-born and ancientfamily were left. So when Sir Peter--against my counsel, staking his allupon that usurping rogue Richard, who had promised to advance him, andmeanwhile took his money--was killed at Bosworth, leaving you landless, penniless, and out of favour, I offered you a home, and you, being awise man, put off your mail and put on woollen and became a merchant'spartner, though your share of profit was but small. Now, again you havechanged staff for steel, " and he glanced at the Scotchman's sword thatstill lay upon a side table, "and Margaret has loosed that rock of whichI spoke to her. "

"What is the rock, Sir?"

"That Spaniard whom she brought home and found so fine. "

"What of the Spaniard?"

"Wait a while and I will tell you. " And, taking a lamp, he left theroom, returning presently with a letter which was written in cipher, andtranslated upon another sheet in John Castell's own hand. 

"This, " he said, "is from my partner and connection, Juan Bernaldez, aMarano, who lives at Seville, where Ferdinand and Isabella have theircourt. Among other matters he writes this: 'I warn all brethren inEngland to be careful. I have it that a certain one whose name I willnot mention even in cipher, a very powerful and high-born man, and, although he appears to be a pleasure-seeker only, and is certainly of adissolute life, among the greatest bigots in all Spain, has been sent, or is shortly to be sent, from Granada, where he is stationed to watchthe Moors, as an envoy to the Court of England to conclude a secrettreaty with its king. Under this treaty the names of rich Maranos thatare already well known here are to be recorded, so that when the timecomes, and the active persecution of Jews and Maranos begins, they maybe given up and brought to Spain for trial before the Inquisition. Alsohe is to arrange that no Jew or Marano may be allowed to take refuge inEngland. This is for your information, that you may warn any whom itconcerns. '"

"You think that d'Aguilar is this man?" asked Peter, while Castellfolded up the letter and hid it in the pocket of his robe. 

"I do; indeed I have heard already that a fox was on the prowl, and thatmen should look to their hen-houses. Moreover, did you note how hecrossed himself like a priest, and what he said about being among goodChristians? Also, it is Lent and a fast-day, and by ill-fortune, although none of us ate of it, there was meat upon the table, for as youknow, " he added hurriedly, "I am not strict in such matters, who givelittle weight to forms and ceremonies. Well, he observed it, and touchedfish only, although he drank enough of the sweet wine. Doubtless areport of that meat will go to Spain by the next courier. "

"And if it does, what matter? We are in England, and Englishmen will notsuffer their Spanish laws and ways. Perhaps the seņor d'Aguilar learnedas much as that to-night outside the banqueting-hall. There is somethingto be feared from this brawl at home; but while we are safe in London, no more from Spain. "

"I am no coward, but I think there is much more to be feared, Peter. Thearm of the Pope is long, and the arm of the crafty Ferdinand is longer, and both of them grope for the throats and moneybags of heretics. "

"Well, Sir, we are not heretics. "

"No, perhaps not heretics; but we are rich, and the father of one of uswas a Jew, and there is something else in this house which even a trueson of Holy Church might desire, " and he looked at the door throughwhich Margaret had passed to her chamber. 

Peter understood, for his long arms moved uneasily, and his grey eyesflashed. 

"I will go to bed, " he said; "I wish to think. "

"Nay, lad, " answered Castell, "fill your glass and stay awhile. I havewords to say to you, and there is no time like the present. Who knowswhat may happen to-morrow?"

CHAPTER III

PETER GATHERS VIOLETS

Peter obeyed, sat down in a big oak chair by the dying fire, and waitedin his silent fashion. 

"Listen, " said Castell. "Fifteen months ago you told me something, didyou not?"

Peter nodded. 

"What was it, then?"

"That I loved my cousin Margaret, and asked your leave to tell her so. "

"And what did I answer?"

"That you forbade me because you had not proved me enough, and she hadnot proved herself enough; because, moreover, she would be very wealthy, and with her beauty might look high in marriage, although but amerchant's daughter. "

"Well, and then?"

"And then--nothing, " and Peter sipped his wine deliberately and put itdown upon the table. 

"You are a very silent man, even where your courting is concerned, " saidCastell, searching him with his sharp eyes. 

"I am silent because there is no more to say. You bade me be silent, andI have remained so. "

"What! Even when you saw those gay lords making their addresses toMargaret, and when she grew angry because you gave no sign, and wasminded to yield to one or the other of them?"

"Yes, even then--it was hard, but even then. Do I not eat your bread?and shall I take advantage of you when you have forbid me?"

Castell looked at him again, and this time there were respect andaffection in his glance. 

"Silent and stern, but honest, " he said as though to himself, thenadded, "A hard trial, but I saw it, and helped you in the best way bysending those suitors--who were worthless fellows--about their business. Now, say, are you still of the same mind towards Margaret?"

"I seldom change my mind, Sir, and on such a business, never. "

"Good! Then I give you my leave to find out what her mind may be. "

In the joy which he could not control, Peter's face flushed. Then, asthough he were ashamed of showing emotion, even at such a moment, hetook up his glass and drank a little of the wine before he answered. 

"I thank you; it is more than I dared to hope. But it is right that Ishould say, Sir, that I am no match for my cousin Margaret. The landswhich should have been mine are gone, and I have nothing save what youpay me for my poor help in this trade; whereas she has, or willhave, much. "

Castell's eyes twinkled; the answer amused him. 

"At least you have an upright heart, " he said, "for what other man insuch a case would argue against himself? Also, you are of good blood, and not ill to look on, or so some maids might think; whilst as forwealth, what said the wise king of my people?--that ofttimes riches makethemselves wings and fly away. Moreover, man, I have learned to love andhonour you, and sooner would I leave my only child in your hands than inthose of any lord in England. "

"I know not what to say, " broke in Peter. 

"Then say nothing. It is your custom, and a good one--only listen. Justnow you spoke of your Essex lands in the fair Vale of Dedham as gone. Well, they have come back, for last month I bought them all, and more, at a price larger than I wished to give because others sought them, andbut this day I have paid in gold and taken delivery of the title. It ismade out in your name, Peter Brome, and whether you marry my daughter, or whether you marry her not, yours they shall be when I am gone, sinceI promised my dead wife to befriend you, and as a child she lived therein your Hall. "

Now moved out of his calm, the young man sprang from his seat, and, after the pious fashion of the time, addressed his patron saint, onwhose feast-day he was born. 

"Saint Peter, I thank thee--"

"I asked you to be silent, " interrupted Castell, breaking him short. "Moreover, after God, it is one John who should be thanked, not St. Peter, who has no more to do with these lands than Father Abraham or thepatient Job. Well, thanks or no thanks, those estates are yours, thoughI had not meant to tell you of them yet. But now I have something topropose to you. Say, first, does Margaret think aught of that woodenface and those shut lips of yours?"

"How can I know? I have never asked her; you forbade me. "

"Pshaw! Living in one house as you do, at your age I would have knownall there was to know on such a matter, and yet kept my word. But there, the blood is different, and you are somewhat over-honest for a lover. Was she frightened for you, now, when that knave made at you withthe sword?"

Peter considered the question, then answered:

"I know not. I did not look to see; I looked at the Scotchman with hissword, for if I had not, I should have been dead, not he. But she wascertainly frightened when the fellow caught hold of her, for then shecalled for me loud enough. "

"And what is that? What woman in London would not call for such a one asPeter Brome in her trouble? Well, you must ask her, and that soon, ifyou can find the words. Take a lesson from that Spanish don, and scrapeand bow and flatter and tell stories of the war and turn verses to hereyes and hair. Oh, Peter! are you a fool, that I at my age should haveto teach you how to court a woman?"

"Mayhap, Sir. At least I can do none of these things, and poesy weariesme to read, much more to write. But I can ask a question and takean answer. "

Castell shook his head impatiently. 

"Ask the question, man, if you will, but never take the answer if it isagainst you. Wait rather, and ask it again--"

"And, " went on Peter without noticing, his grey eyes lighting with asudden fire, "if need be, I can break that fine Spaniard's bones asthough he were a twig. "

"Ah!" said Castell, "perhaps you will be called upon to make your wordsgood before all is done. For my part, I think his bones will take somebreaking. Well, ask in your own way--only ask and let me hear the answerbefore to-morrow night. Now it grows late, and I have still something tosay. I am in danger here. My wealth is noised abroad, and many covet it, some in high places, I think. Peter, it is in my mind to have done withall this trading, and to withdraw me to spend my old age where none willtake any notice of me, down at that Hall of yours in Dedham, if you willgive me lodging. Indeed for a year and more, ever since you spoke to meon the subject of Margaret, I have been calling in my moneys from Spainand England, and placing them out at safe interest in small sums, orbuying jewels with them, or lending them to other merchants whom Itrust, and who will not rob me or mine. Peter, you have worked well forme, but you are no chapman; it is not in your blood. Therefore, sincethere is enough for all of us and more, I shall pass this business andits goodwill over to others, to be managed in their name, but on shares, and if it please God we will keep next Yule at Dedham. "

As he spoke the door at the far end of the hall opened, and through itcame that serving-man who had been bidden to follow the Spaniard. 

"Well, " said Castell, "what tidings?"

The man bowed and said:

"I followed the Don as you bade me to his lodging, which I reachedwithout his seeing me, though from time to time he stopped to look abouthim. He rests near the palace of Westminster, in the same big housewhere dwells the ambassador de Ayala, and those who stood round liftedtheir bonnets to him. 

"Watching I saw some of these go to a tavern, a low place that is openall night, and, following them there, called for a drink and listened totheir talk, who know the Spanish tongue well, having worked for fiveyears in your worship's house at Seville. They spoke of the frayto-night, and said that if they could catch that long-legged fellow, meaning Master Brome yonder, they would put a knife into him, since hehad shamed them by killing the Scotch knave, who was their officer andthe best swordsman in their company, with a staff, and then setting hisBritish bulldogs on them. I fell into talk with them, saying that I wasan English sailor from Spain, which they were too drunk to question, andasked who might be the tall don who had interfered in the fray beforethe king came. They told me he is a rich seņor named d'Aguilar, but illto serve in Lent because he is so strict a churchman, although notstrict in other matters. I answered that to me he looked like a greatnoble, whereon one of them said that I was right, that there was noblood in Spain higher than his, but unfortunately, there was a bend inits stream, also an inkpot had been upset into it. "

"What does that mean?" asked Peter. 

"It is a Spanish saying, " answered Castell, "which signifies that a manis born illegitimate, and has Moorish blood in his veins. "

"Then I asked what he was doing here, and the man answered that I hadbest put that question to the Holy Father and to the Queen of Spain. Lastly, after I had given the soldier another cup, I asked where the donlived, and whether he had any other name. He replied that he lived atGranada for the most part, and that if I called on him there I shouldsee some pretty ladies and other nice things. As for his name, it wasthe Marquis of Nichel. I said that meant Marquis of Nothing, whereon thesoldier answered that I seemed very curious, and that was just what hemeant to tell me--nothing. Also he called to his comrades that hebelieved I was a spy, so I thought it time to be going, as they weredrunk enough to do me a mischief. "

"Good, " said Castell. "You are watchman tonight, Thomas, are you not?See that all doors are barred so that we may sleep without fear ofSpanish thieves. Rest you well, Peter. Nay, I do not come yet; I haveletters to send to Spain by the ship which sails to-morrow night. "

When Peter had gone, John Castell extinguished all the lamps save one. This he took in his hand and passed from the hall into an apartment thatin old days, when this was a noble's house, had been the private chapel. There was an altar in it, and over the altar a crucifix. For a fewmoments Castell knelt before the altar, for even now, at dead of night, how knew he what eyes might watch him? Then he rose and, lamp in hand, glided behind it, lifted some tapestry, and pressed a spring in thepanelling beneath. It opened, revealing a small secret chamber built inthe thickness of the wall and without windows; a mere cupboard that onceperhaps had been a place where a priest might robe or keep thesacred vessels. 

In this chamber was a plain oak table on which stood candles and an arkof wood, also some rolls of parchment. Before this table he knelt down, and put up earnest prayers to the God of Abraham, for, although hisfather had caused him to be baptized into the Christian Church as achild, John Castell remained a Jew. For this good reason, then, he wasso much afraid, knowing that, although his daughter and Peter knewnothing of his secret, there were others who did, and that were itrevealed ruin and perhaps death would be his portion and that of hishouse, since in those days there was no greater crime than to adore Godotherwise than Holy Church allowed. Yet for many years he had taken therisk, and worshipped on as his fathers did before him. 

His prayer finished, he left the place, closing the spring-door behindhim, and passed to his office, where he sat till the morning light, first writing a letter to his correspondent at Seville, and thenpainfully translating it into cipher by aid of a secret key. His taskdone, and the cipher letter sealed and directed, he burned the draft, extinguished his lamp, and, going to the window, watched the rising ofthe sun. In the garden beneath blackbirds sang, and the pale primroseswere abloom. 

"I wonder, " he said aloud, "whether when those flowers come again Ishall live to see them. Almost I feel as though the rope were tighteningabout my throat at last; it came upon me while that accursed Spaniardcrossed himself at my table. Well, so be it; I will hide the truth whileI can, but if they catch me I'll not deny it. The money is safe, most ofit; my wealth they shall never get, and now I will make my daughter safealso, as with Peter she must be. I would I had not put it off so long;but I hankered after a great marriage for her, which, being a Christian, she well might make. I'll mend that fault; before to-morrow's morn sheshall be plighted to him, and before May-day his wife. God of myfathers, give us one month more of peace and safety, and then, because Ihave denied Thee openly, take my life in payment if Thou wilt. "

Before John Castell went to bed Peter was already awake--indeed, he hadslept but little that night. How could he sleep whose fortunes hadchanged thus wondrously between sun set and rise? Yesterday he was but amerchant's assistant--a poor trade for one who had been trained to arms, and borne them bravely. To-day he was a gentleman again, owner of thebroad lands where he was bred, and that had been his forefathers' formany a generation. Yesterday he was a lover without hope, for in himselfhe had never believed that the rich John Castell would suffer him, alandless man, to pay court to his daughter, one of the loveliest andwealthiest maids in London. He had asked his leave in past days, andbeen refused, as he had expected that he would be refused, andthenceforward, being on his honour as it were, he had said no tenderword to Margaret, nor pressed her hand, nor even looked into her eyesand sighed. Yet at times it had seemed to him that she would not havebeen ill-pleased if he had done one of these things, or all; that shewondered, indeed, that he did not, and thought none the better of himfor his abstinence. Moreover, now he learned that her father wonderedalso, and this was a strange reward of virtue. 

For Peter loved Margaret with heart and soul and body. Since he, a lad, had played with her, a child, he loved her, and no other woman. She washis thought by day and his dream by night, his hope, his eternal star. Heaven he pictured as a place where for ever he would be with Margaret, earth without her could be nothing but a hell. That was why he hadstayed on in Castell's shop, bending his proud neck to this tradesman'syoke, doing the bidding and taking the rough words of chapmen and oflordly customers, filling in bills of exchange, and cheapening bargains, all without a sign or murmur, though oftentimes he felt as though hisgorge would burst with loathing of the life. Indeed, that was why he hadcome there at all, who otherwise would have been far away, hewing a roadto fame and fortune, or digging out a grave with his broadsword. Forhere at least he could be near to Margaret, could touch her hand at mornand evening, could watch the light shine in her beauteous eyes, andsometimes, as she bent over him, feel her breath upon his hair. And nowhis purgatory was at an end, and of a sudden the gates of joy were open. 

But what if Margaret should prove the angel with the flaming sword whoforbade him entrance to his paradise? He trembled at the thought. Well, if so, so it must be; he was not the man to force her fancy, or call herfather to his aid. He would do his best to win her, and if he failed, why then he would bless her, and let her go. 

Peter could lie abed no longer, but rose and dressed himself, althoughthe dawn was not fully come. By his open window he said his prayers, thanking God for mercies past, and praying that He would bless him inhis great emprise. Presently the sun rose, and there came a greatlonging on him to be alone in the countryside, he who was country-bornand hated towns, with only the sky and the birds and the treesfor company. 

But here in London was no country, wherever he went he would meet men;moreover, he remembered that it might be best that just now he shouldnot wander through the streets unguarded, lest he should find Spaniardswatching to take him unawares. Well, there was the garden; he would gothither, and walk a while. So he descended the broad oak stairs, and, unbolting a door, entered this garden, which, though not too well kept, was large for London, covering an acre of ground perhaps, surrounded bya high wall, and having walks, and at the end of it a group of ancientelms, beneath which was a seat hidden from the house. In summer this wasMargaret's favourite bower, for she too loved Nature and the land, andall the things it bore. Indeed, this garden was her joy, and the flowersthat grew there were for the most part of her own planting--primroses, snowdrops, violets, and, in the shadow of the trees, longhartstongue ferns. 

For a while Peter walked up and down the central path, and, as itchanced, Margaret, who also had risen early and not slept too well, looking through her window curtains, saw him wandering there, andwondered what he did at this hour; also, why he was dressed in theclothes he wore on Sundays and holidays. Perhaps, she thought, hisweekday garments had been torn or muddied in last night's fray. Then shefell to thinking how bravely he had borne him in that fray. She saw itall again; the great red-headed rascal tossed up and whirled to theearth by his strong arms; saw Peter face that gleaming steel withnothing but a staff; saw the straight blows fall, and the fellow goreeling to the earth, slain with a single stroke. 

Ah! her cousin, Peter Brome, was a man indeed, though a strange one, andremembering certain things that did not please her, she shrugged herivory shoulders, turned red, and pouted. Why, that Spaniard had saidmore civil words to her in an hour than had Peter in two years, and hewas handsome and noble-looking also; but then the Spaniard was--aSpaniard, and other men were--other men, whereas Peter was--Peter, acreature apart, one who cared as little for women as he did for trade. 

Why, then, if he cared for neither women nor trade, did he stop here?she wondered. To gather wealth? She did not think it; he seemed to haveno leanings that way either. It was a mystery. Still, she could wish toget to the bottom of Peter's heart, just to see what was hid there, since no man has a right to be a riddle to his loving cousin. Yes, andone day she would do it, cost what it might. 

Meanwhile, she remembered that she had never thanked Peter for the bravepart which he had played, and, indeed, had left him to walk home withBetty, a journey that, as she gathered from her sprightly cousin's talkwhile she undressed her, neither of them had much enjoyed. For Betty, beit said here, was angry with Peter, who, it seemed, once had told herthat she was a handsome, silly fool, who thought too much of men and toolittle of her business. Well, since after the day's work had begun shewould find no opportunity, she would go down and thank Peter now, andsee if she could make him talk for once. 

So Margaret threw her fur-trimmed cloak about her, drawing its hood overher head, for the April air was cold, and followed Peter into thegarden. When she reached it, however, there was no Peter to be seen, whereon she reproached herself for having come to that damp place soearly and meditated return. Then, thinking that it would look foolish ifany had chanced to see her, she walked down the path pretending to seekfor violets, and found none. Thus she came to the group of great elms atthe end, and, glancing between their ancient boles, saw Peter standingthere. Now, too, she understood why she could find no violets, for Peterhad gathered them all, and was engaged, awkwardly enough, in trying totie them and some leaves into a little posy by the help of a stem ofgrass. With his left hand he held the violets, with his right one end ofthe grass, and since he lacked fingers to clasp the other, this heattempted with his teeth. Now he drew it tight, and now the brittlegrass stem broke, the violets were scattered, and Peter used words thathe should not have uttered even when alone. 

"I knew you would break it, but I never thought you could lose yourtemper over so small a thing, Peter, " said Margaret; and he in theshadow looked up to see her standing there in the sunlight, fresh andlovely as the spring itself. 

Solemnly, in severe reproof, she shook her head, from which the hood hadfallen back, but there was a smile upon her lips, and laughter in hereyes. Oh! she was beautiful, and at the sight of her Peter's heart stoodstill. Then, remembering what he had just said, and certain other thingsthat Master Castell had said, he blushed so deeply that her own cheekswent red in sympathy. It was foolish, but she could not help it, forabout Peter this morning there was something strange, something thatbred blushes. 

"For whom are you gathering violets so early, " she asked, "when youought to be praying for that Scotchman's soul?"

"I care nothing for his soul, " answered Peter testily. "If the brute hadone, he can look after it himself; and I was gathering theviolets--for you. "

She stared. Peter was not in the habit of making her presents offlowers. No wonder he had looked strange. 

"Then I will help you to tie them. Do you know why I am up so early? Itis for your sake. I behaved badly to you last night, for I was crossbecause you wanted to thwart me about seeing the king. I never thankedyou for all you did, you brave Peter, though I thanked you enough in myheart. Do you know that when you stood there with that sword, in themiddle of those Englishmen, you looked quite noble? Come out into thesunlight, and I will thank you properly. "

In his agitation Peter let the remainder of the flowers fall. Then anidea struck him, and he answered:

"Look! I can't; if you are really grateful for nothing at all, come inhere and help me to pick up these violets--a pest on theirshort stalks!"

She hesitated a little, then by degrees drew nearer, and, bending down, began to find the flowers one by one. Peter had scattered them wide, sothat at first the pair were some way apart, but when only a fewremained, they drew close. Now there was but one violet left, and, bothstretching for it, their hands met. Margaret held the violet, and Peterheld Margaret's fingers. Thus linked they straightened themselves, andas they rose their faces were very near together and oh! most sweet wereMargaret's wonderful eyes; while in the eyes of Peter there shone aflame. For a second they looked at each other, and then of a sudden hekissed her on the lips. 

CHAPTER IV

LOVERS DEAR

"Peter!" gasped Margaret--"_Peter!_"

But Peter made no answer, only he who had been red of face went white, so that the mark of the sword-cut across his cheek showed like a scarletline upon a cloth. 

"Peter!" repeated Margaret, pulling at her hand which he still held, "doyou know what you have done?"

"It seems that you do, so what need is there for me to tell you?" hemuttered. 

"Then it was not an accident; you really meant it, and you are notashamed. "

"If it was, I hope that I may meet with more such accidents. "

"Peter, leave go of me. I am going to tell my father, at once. "

His face brightened. 

"Tell him by all means, " he said; "he won't mind. He told me----"

"Peter, how dare you add falsehood to--to--you know what. Do you mean tosay that my father told you to kiss me, and at six o'clock in themorning, too?"

"He said nothing about kissing, but I suppose he meant it. He said thatI might ask you to marry me. "

"That, " replied Margaret, "is a very different thing. If you had askedme to marry you, and, after thinking it over for a long while, I hadanswered Yes, which of course I should not have done, then, perhaps, before we were married you might have--Well, Peter, you have begun atthe wrong end, which is very shameless and wicked of you, and I shallnever speak to you again. "

"I daresay, " said Peter resignedly; "all the more reason why I shouldspeak to you while I have the chance. No, you shan't go till you haveheard me. Listen. I have been in love with you since you were twelveyears old--"

"That must be another falsehood, Peter, or you have gone mad. If you hadbeen in love with me for eleven years, you would have said so. "

"I wanted to, always, but your father refused me leave. I asked himfifteen months ago, but he put me on my word to say nothing. "

"To say nothing--yes, but he could not make you promise to shownothing. "

"I thought that the one thing meant the other; I see now that I havebeen a fool, and, I suppose, have overstayed my market, " and he lookedso depressed that Margaret relented a little. 

"Well, " she said, "at any rate it was honest, and of course I am gladthat you were honest. "

"You said just now that I told falsehoods--twice; if I am honest, howcan I tell falsehoods?"

"I don't know. Why do you ask me riddles? Let me go and try to forgetall this. "

"Not till you have answered me outright. Will you marry me, Margaret? Ifyou won't, there will be no need for you to go, for I shall go andtrouble you no more. You know what I am, and all about me, and I havenothing more to say except that, although you may find many finerhusbands, you won't find one who would love and care for you better. Iknow that you are very beautiful and very rich, while I am neither onenor the other, and often I have wished to Heaven that you were not sobeautiful, for sometimes that brings trouble on women who are honest andonly have one heart to give, or so rich either. But thus things are, andI cannot change them, and, however poor my chance of hitting the dove, Idetermined to shoot my bolt and make way for the next archer. Is thereany chance at all, Margaret? Tell me, and put me out of pain, for I amnot good at so much talking. "

Now Margaret began to grow disturbed; her wayward assurance departedfrom her. 

"It is not fitting, " she murmured, "and I do not wish--I will speak tomy father; he shall give you your answer. "

"No need to trouble him, Margaret. He has given it already. His greatdesire is that we should marry, for he seeks to leave this trade and tolive with us in the Vale of Dedham, in Essex, where he has bought backmy father's land. "

"You are full of strange tidings this morning, Peter. "

"Yes, Margaret, our wheel of life that went so slow turns fast enoughto-day, for God above has laid His whip upon the horses of our Fate, and they begin to gallop, whither I know not. Must they run side byside, or separate? It is for you to say. "

"Peter, " she said, "will you not give me a little time?"

"Aye, Margaret, ten whole minutes by the clock, and then if it is nay, all your life, for I pack my chest and go. It will be said that I fearedto be taken for that soldier's death. "

"You are unkind to press me so. "

"Nay, it is kindest to both of us. Do you then love some other man?"

"I must confess I do, " she murmured, looking at him out of the cornersof her eyes. 

Now Peter, strong as he was, turned faint, and in his agitation let goher hand which she lifted, the violets still between her fingers, considering it as though it were a new thing to her. 

"I have no right to ask you who he is, " he muttered, striving to controlhimself. 

"Nay, but, Peter, I will tell you. It is my father--what other manshould I love?"

"Margaret!" he said in wrath, "you are fooling me. "

"How so? What other man should I love--unless, indeed, it wereyourself?"

"I can bear no more of this play, " he said. "Mistress Margaret, I bidyou farewell. God go with you!" And he brushed past her. 

"Peter, " she said when he had gone a few yards, "would you have theseviolets as a farewell gift?"

He turned and hesitated. 

"Come, then, and take them. "

So back he came, and with little trembling fingers she began to fastenthe flowers to his doublet, bending ever nearer as she fastened, untilher breath played upon his face, and her hair brushed his bonnet. Then, it matters not how, once more the violets fell to earth, and she sighed, and her hands fell also, and he put his strong arms round her and drewher to him and kissed her again and yet again on the hair and eyes andlips; nor did Margaret forbid him. 

At length she thrust him from her and, taking him by the hand, led himto the seat beneath the elms, and bade him sit at one end of it, whileshe sat at the other. 

"Peter, " she whispered, "I wish to speak with you when I can get mybreath. Peter, you think poorly of me, do you not? No--be silent; it ismy turn to talk. You think that I am heartless, and have been playingwith you. Well, I only did it to make sure that you really do love me, since, after that--accident of a while ago (when we were picking up theviolets, I mean), you would have been in honour bound to say it, wouldyou not? Well, now I am quite sure, so I will tell you something. I loveyou many times as well as you love me, and have done so for quite aslong. Otherwise, should I not have married some other suitor, of whomthere have been plenty? Aye, and I will tell you this to my sin andshame, that once I grew so angry with you because you would not speak orgive some little sign, that I went near to it. But at the last I couldnot, and sent him about his business also. Peter, when I saw you lastnight facing that swordsman with but a staff, and thought that you mustdie, oh! then I knew all the truth, and my heart was nigh to bursting, as, had you died, it would have burst. But now it is all done with, andwe know each other's secret, and nothing shall ever part us more tilldeath comes to one or both. "

Thus Margaret spoke, while he drank in her words as desert sands, parched by years of drought, drink in the rain--and watched her face, out of which all mischief and mockery had departed, leaving it that of amost beauteous and most earnest woman, to whom a sense of the weight oflife, with its mingled joys and sorrows, had come home suddenly. Whenshe had finished, this silent man, to whom even his great happinessbrought few words, said only:

"God has been very good to us. Let us thank God. "

So they did, then, even there, seated side by side upon the bench, because the grass was too wet for them to kneel on, praying in theirsimple, childlike faith that the Power which had brought them together, and taught them to love each other, would bless them in that love andprotect them from all harms, enemies, and evils through many a longyear of life. 

Their prayer finished, they sat together on the seat, now talking, andnow silent in their joy, while all too fast the time wore on. Atlength--it was after one of these spells of blissful silence--a changecame over them, such a change as falls upon some peaceful scene when, unexpected and complete, a black stormcloud sweeps across the sun, and, in place of its warm light, pours down gloom full of the promise oftempest and of rain. Apprehension got a hold of them. They were bothafraid of what they could not guess. 

"Come, " she said, "it is time to go in. My father will miss us. "

So without more words or endearments they rose and walked side by sideout of the shelter of the elms into the open garden. Their heads werebent, for they were lost in thought, and thus it came about thatMargaret saw her feet pass suddenly into the shadow of a man, and, looking up, perceived standing in front of her, grave, alert, amused, none other than the Seņor d'Aguilar. She uttered a little stifledscream, while Peter, with the impulse that causes a brave and startledhound to rush at that which frightens it, gave a leap forward towardsthe Spaniard. 

"Mother of God! do you take me for a thief?" he asked in a laughingvoice, as he stepped to one side to avoid him. 

"Your pardon, " said Peter, shaking himself together; "but you surprisedus appearing so suddenly where we never thought to see you. "

"Any more than I thought to see you here, for this seems a strange placeto linger on so cold a morning, " and he looked at them again with hiscurious, mocking eyes that appeared to read the secret of their souls, while they grew red as roses beneath his scrutiny. "Permit me toexplain, " he went on. "I came here thus early on your service, to warnyou, Master Peter, not to go abroad to-day, since a writ is out for yourarrest, and as yet I have had no time to quash it by friendlysettlement. Well, as it chanced, I met that handsome lady who was withyou yesterday, returning from her marketing--a friendly soul--she saysshe is your cousin. She brought me to the house, and having learned thatyour father, whom I wished to see, was at his prayers, good man, in theold chapel, led me to its door and left me to seek him. I entered, butcould not find him, so, having waited a while, strayed into this gardenthrough the open door, purposing to walk here till some one shouldappear, and, you see, I have been fortunate beyond my expectationsor deserts. "

"So!" said Peter shortly, for the man's manner and elaboratedexplanations filled him with disgust. "Let us seek Master Castell thathe may hear the story. "

"And we thank you much for coming to warn us, " murmured Margaret. "Iwill go find my father, " and she slipped past him towards the door. 

D'Aguilar watched her enter it, then turned to Peter and said:

"You English are a hardy folk who take the spring air so early. Well, insuch company I would do the same. Truly she is a beauteous maiden. Ihave some experience of the sex, but never do I remember one so fair. "

"My cousin is well enough, " answered Peter coldly, for this Spaniard'svery evident admiration of Margaret did not please him. 

"Yes, " answered d'Aguilar, taking no notice of his tone, "she is wellenough to fill the place, not of a merchant's daughter, but of a greatlady--a countess reigning over towns and lands, or a queen even; theroyal robes and ornaments would become that carriage and that brow. "

"My cousin seeks no such state who is happy in her quiet lot, " answeredPeter again; then added quickly, "See, here comes Master Castellseeking you. "

D'Aguilar advanced and greeted the merchant courteously, noticing as hedid so that, notwithstanding his efforts to appear unconcerned, Castellseemed ill at ease. 

"I am an early visitor, " he said, "but I knew that you business folkrise with the lark, and I wished to catch our friend here before he wentout, " and he repeated to him the reason of his coming. 

"I thank you, Seņor, " answered Castell. "You are very good to me andmine. I am sorry that you have been kept waiting. They tell me that youlooked for me in the chapel, but I was not there, who had already leftit for my office. "

"So I found. It is a quaint place, that old chapel of yours, and while Iwaited I went to the altar and told my beads there, which I had no timeto do before I left my lodgings. "

Castell started almost imperceptibly, and glanced at d'Aguilar with hisquick eyes, then turned the subject and asked if he would not breakfastwith them. He declined, however, saying that he must be about theirbusiness and his own, then promptly proposed that he should come tosupper on the following night that was--Sunday--and make report howthings had gone, a suggestion that Castell could not but accept. 

So he bowed and smiled himself out of the house, and walked thoughtfullyinto Holborn, for it had pleased him to pay this visit on foot, andunattended. At the corner whom should he meet again but the tall, fair-haired Betty, returning from some errand which she had found itconvenient to fulfil just then. 

"What, " he said, "you once more! The saints are very kind to me thismorning. Come, Seņora, walk a little way with me, for I would ask you afew questions. "

Betty hesitated, then gave way. It was seldom that she found the chanceof walking through Holborn with such a noble-looking cavalier. 

"Never look at your working-dress, " he said. 

"With such a shape, what matters the robe that covers it?"--a complimentat which Betty blushed, for she was proud of her fine figure. 

"Would you like a mantilla of real Spanish lace for your head andshoulders? Well, you shall have one that I brought from Spain with me, for I know no other lady in the land whom it would become better. But, Mistress Betty, you told me wrong about your master. I went to thechapel and he was not there. "

"He was there, Seņor, " she answered, eager to set herself right withthis most agreeable and discriminating foreigner, "for I saw him go in amoment before, and he did not come out again. "

"Then, Seņora, where could he have hidden himself? Has the place acrypt?"

"None that I have heard of; but, " she added, "there is a kind of littleroom behind the altar. "

"Indeed. How do you know that? I saw no room. "

"Because one day I heard a voice behind the tapestry, Seņor, and, lifting it, saw a sliding door left open, and Master Castell kneelingbefore a table and saying his prayers aloud. "

"How strange! And what was there on the table?"

"Only a queer-shaped box of wood like a little house, and twocandlesticks, and some rolls of parchment. But I forgot, Seņor; Ipromised Master Castell to say nothing about that place, for he turnedand saw me, and came at me like a watchdog out of its kennel. You won'tsay that I told you, will you, Seņor?"

"Not I; your good master's private cupboard does not interest me. Now Iwant to know something more. Why is that beautiful cousin of yours notmarried? Has she no suitors?"

"Suitors, Seņor? Yes, plenty of them, but she sends them all about theirbusiness, and seems to have no mind that way. "

"Perhaps she is in love with her cousin, that long-legged, strong-armed, wooden-headed Master Brome. "

"Oh! no, Seņor, I don't think so; no lady could be in love with him--heis too stern and silent. "

"I agree with you, Seņora. Then perhaps he is in love with her. "

Betty shook her head, and replied:

"Peter Brome doesn't think anything of women, Seņor. At least he neverspeaks to or of them. "

"Which shows that probably he thinks about them all the more. Well, well, it is no affair of ours, is it? Only I am glad to hear that thereis nothing between them, since your mistress ought to marry high, and bea great lady, not a mere merchant's wife. "

"Yes, Seņor. Though Peter Brome is not a merchant, at least by birth, heis high-born, and should be Sir Peter Brome if his father had not foughton the wrong side and sold his land. He is a soldier, and a very braveone, they say, as all might see last night. "

"No doubt, and perhaps would make a great captain, if he had the chance, with his stern face and silent tongue. But, Seņora Betty, say, how comesit that, being so handsome, " and he bowed, "you are not married either?I am sure it can be from no lack of suitors. "

Again Betty, foolish girl, flushed with pleasure at the compliment. 

"You are right, Seņor, " she answered. "I have plenty of them; but I amlike my cousin--they do not please me. Although my father lost hisfortune, I come of good blood, and I suppose that is why I do not carefor these low-born men, and would rather remain as I am than marryone of them. "

"You are quite right, " said d'Aguilar in his sympathetic voice. "Do notstain your blood. Marry in your own class, or not at all, which, indeed, should not be difficult for one so beautiful and charming. " And helooked into her large eyes with tender admiration. 

This quality, indeed, soon began to demonstrate itself so actively, forthey were now in the fields where few people wandered, that Betty, whoalthough vain was proud and upright, thought it wise to recollect thatshe must be turning homewards. So, in spite of his protests, she lefthim and departed, walking upon air. 

How splendid and handsome this foreign gentleman was, she thought toherself, really a great cavalier, and surely he admired her truly. Whyshould he not? Such things had often been. Many a rich lady whom sheknew was not half so handsome or so well born as herself, and would makehim a worse wife--that is, and the thought chilled her somewhat--if hewere not already married. 

From all of which it will be seen that d'Aguilar had quickly succeededin the plan which only presented itself to him a few hours before. Bettywas already half in love with him. Not that he had any desire to possessthis beautiful but foolish woman's heart, who saw in her only a usefultool, a stepping-stone by means of which he might draw near to Margaret. 

For with Margaret, it may be said at once, he was quite in love. At thesight of her sweet yet imperial beauty, as he saw her first, dishevelled, angry, frightened, in the crowd outside the king'sbanqueting-hall, his southern blood had taken sudden fire. Finishedvoluptuary though he was, the sensation he experienced then was quitenew to him. He longed for this woman as he had never longed for anyother, and, what is more, he desired to make her his wife. Why not?Although there was a flaw in it, his rank was high, and therefore shewas beneath him; but for this her loveliness would atone, and she hadwit and learning enough to fill any place that he could give her. Also, great as was his wealth, his wanton, spendthrift way of life had broughthim many debts, and she was the only child of one of the richestmerchants in England, whose dower, doubtless, would be a fortune thatmany a royal princess might envy. Why not again? He would turn Inez andthose others adrift--at any rate, for a while--and make her mistress ofhis palace there in Granada. Instantly, as is often the fashion of thosewho have Eastern blood in their veins, d'Aguilar had made up his mind, yes, before he left her father's table on the previous night. He wouldmarry Margaret and no other woman. 

Yet at once he had seen many difficulties in his path. To begin with, hemistrusted him of Peter, that strong, quiet man who could kill a greatarmed knave with his stick, and at a word call half London to his side. Peter, he was sure, being human, must be in love with Margaret, and hewas a rival to be feared. Well, if Margaret had no thoughts of Peter, this mattered nothing, and if she had--and what were they doing togetherin the garden that morning?--Peter must be got rid of, that was all. Itwas easy enough if he chose to adopt certain means; there were many ofthose Spanish fellows who would not mind sticking a knife into his backin the dark. 

But sinful as he was, at such steps his conscience halted. Whateverd'Aguilar had done, he had never caused a man to be actually murdered, he who was a bigot, who atoned for his misdoings by periods of remorseand prayer, in which he placed his purse and talents at the service ofthe Church, as he was doing at this moment. No, murder must not bethought of; for how could any absolution wash him clean of that stain?But there were other ways. For instance, had not this Peter, inself-defence it is true, killed one of the servants of an ambassador ofSpain? Perhaps, however, it would not be necessary to make use of them. It had seemed to him that the lady was not ill pleased with him, and, after all, he had much to offer. He would court her fairly, and if hewere rejected by her, or by her father, then it would be time enough toact. Meanwhile, he would keep the sword hanging over the head of Peter, pretending that it was he alone who had prevented it from falling, andlearn all that he could as to Castell and his history. 

Here, indeed, Fortune, in the shape of the foolish Betty, had favouredhim. Without a doubt, as he had heard in Spain, and been sure from themoment that he first saw him, Castell was still secretly a Jew. MistressBetty's story of the room behind the altar, with the ark and the candlesand the rolls of the Law, proved as much. At least here was evidenceenough to send him to the fires of the Inquisition in Spain, and, perhaps, to drive him out of England. Now, if John Castell, the SpanishJew, should not wish, for any reason, to give him his daughter inmarriage, would not a hint and an extract from the Commissions of theirMajesties of Spain and the Holy Father suffice to make him changehis mind?

Thus pondering, d'Aguilar regained his lodgings, where his first taskwas to enter in a book all that Betty had told him, and all that he hadobserved in the house of John Castell. 

CHAPTER V

CASTELL'S SECRET

In John Castell's house it was the habit, as in most others in thosedays, for his dependents, clerks, and shopmen to eat their morning andmid-day meals with him in the hall, seated at two lower tables, all ofthem save Betty, his daughter's cousin and companion, who sat with themat the upper board. This morning Betty's place was empty, and presentlyCastell, lifting his eyes, for he was lost in thought, noted it, andasked where she might be--a question that neither Margaret nor Petercould answer. 

One of the servants at the lower table, however--it was that man who hadbeen sent to follow d'Aguilar on the previous night--said that as hecame down Holborn a while before he had seen her walking with theSpanish don, a saying at which his master looked grave. 

Just as they were finishing their meal, a very silent one, for none ofthem seemed to have anything to say, and after the servants had left thehall, Betty arrived, flushed as though with running. 

"Where have you been that you are so late?" asked Castell. 

"To seek the linen for the new sheets, but it was not ready, " sheanswered glibly. "The mercer kept you waiting long, " remarked Castellquietly. "Did you meet any one?"

"Only the folk in the street. "

"I will ask you no more questions, lest I should cause you to lie andbring you into sin, " said Castell sternly. "Girl, how far did you walkwith the Seņor d'Aguilar, and what was your business with him?"

Now Betty knew that she had been seen, and that it was useless to denythe truth. 

"Only a little way, " she answered, "and that because he prayed me toshow him his path. "

"Listen, Betty, " went on Castell, taking no notice of her words. "Youare old enough to guard yourself, therefore as to your walking abroadwith gallants who can mean you no good I say nothing. But know this--noone who has knowledge of the matters of my house, " and he looked at herkeenly, "shall mix with any Spaniard. If you are found alone with thisseņor any more, that hour I have done with you, and you never pass mydoor again. Nay, no words. Take your food and eat it elsewhere. "

So she departed half weeping, but very angry, for Betty was strong andobstinate by nature. When she had gone, Margaret, who was fond of hercousin, tried to say some words on her behalf; but her fatherstopped her. 

"Pshaw!" he said, "I know the girl; she is vain as a peacock, and, remembering her gentle birth and good looks, seeks to marry above herstation; while for some purpose of his own--an ill one, I'll warrant--that Spaniard plays upon her weakness, which, if it be not curbed, maybring trouble on us all. Now, enough of Betty Dene; I must to my work. "

"Sir, " said Peter, speaking for the first time, "we would have aprivate word with you. "

"A private word, " he said, looking up anxiously. "Well, speak on. No, this place is not private; I think its walls have ears. Follow me, " andhe led the way into the old chapel, whereof, when they had all passedit, he bolted the door. "Now, " he said, "what is it?"

"Sir, " answered Peter, standing before him, "having your leave at last, I asked your daughter in marriage this morning. "

"At least you lose no time, friend Peter; unless you had called her fromher bed and made your offer through the door you could not have done itquicker. Well, well, you ever were a man of deeds, not words, and whatsays my Margaret?"

"An hour ago she said she was content, " answered Peter. 

"A cautious man also, " went on Castell with a twinkle in his eye, "whoremembers that women have been known to change their minds within anhour. After such long thought, what say you now, Margaret?"

"That I am angry with Peter, " she answered, stamping her small foot, "for if he does not trust me for an hour, how can he trust me for hislife and mine?"

"Nay, Margaret, you do not understand me, " said Peter. "I wished not tobind you, that is all, in case----"

"Now you are saying it again, " she broke in vexed, and yet amused. "Doso a third time, and I will you at your word. "

"It seems best that I should remain silent. Speak you, " said Peterhumbly. 

"Aye, for truly you are a master of silence, as I should know, if anydo, " replied Margaret, bethinking her of the weary months and years ofwaiting. "Well, I will answer for you. --Father, Peter was right; I amcontent to marry him, though to do so will be to enter the Order of theSilent Brothers. Yes, I am content; not for himself, indeed, who has somany faults, but for myself, who chance to love him, " and she smiledsweetly enough. 

"Do not jest on such matters, Margaret. "

"Why not, father? Peter is solemn enough for both of us--look at him. Let us laugh while we may, for who knows when tears may come?"

"A good saying, " answered Castell with a sigh. "So you two have plightedyour troth, and, my children, I am glad of it, for who knows when thosetears of which Margaret spoke may come, and then you can wipe away eachother's? Take now her hand, Peter, and swear by the Rood, that symbolwhich you worship"--here Peter glanced at him, but he went on--"swear, both of you that come what may, together or separate, through goodreport or evil report, through poverty or wealth, through peace orpersecutions, through temptation or through blood, through every good orill that can befall you in this world of bittersweet, you will remainfaithful to your troth until you be wed, and after you are wed, faithfulto each other till death do part you. "

These words he spoke to them in a voice that was earnest almost topassion, searching their faces the while with his quick eyes as thoughhe would read their very hearts. His mood crept from him to them; onceagain they felt something of that fear which had fallen on them in thegarden when they passed into the shadow of the Spaniard. Very solemnlythen, and with little of true lovers' joy, did they take each other'shands and swear by the Cross and Him Who hung on it, that through thesethings, and all others they could not foretell, they would, if needwere, be faithful to the death. 

"And beyond it also, " added Peter; while Margaret bowed her stately headin sweet assent. 

"Children, " said Castell, "you will be rich--few richer in thisland--though mayhap it would be wise that you should not show all yourwealth at once, or ape the place of a great house, lest envy should fallupon your heads and crush you. Be content to wait, and rank will findyou in its season, or if not you, your children. Peter, I tell you now, lest I should forget it, that the list of all my moneys and otherpossessions in chattels or lands or ships or merchandise is buriedbeneath the floor of my office, just under where my chair stands. Liftthe boards and dig away a foot of rubbish, and you will find a stonetrap, and below an iron box with the deeds, inventories, and some veryprecious jewels. Also, if by any mischance that box should be lost, duplicates of nearly all these papers are in the hands of my good friendand partner in our inland British trade, Simon Levett, whom you know. Remember my words, both of you. "

"Father, " broke in Margaret in an anxious voice, "why do you speak ofthe future thus?--I mean, as though you had no share in it? Do youfear aught?"

"Yes, daughter, much, or rather I expect, I do not fear, who amprepared and desire to meet all things as they come. You have sworn thatoath, have you not? And you will keep it, will you not?"

"Aye!" they answered with one breath. 

"Then prepare you to feel the weight of the first of those trialswhereof it speaks, for I will no longer hold back the truth from you. Children, I, whom for all these years you have thought of your ownfaith, am a Jew as my forefathers were before me, back to the daysof Abraham. "

The effect of this declaration upon its hearers was remarkable. Peter'sjaw dropped, and for the second time that day his face went white; whileMargaret sank down into a chair that stood near by, and stared at himhelplessly. In those times it was a very terrible thing to be a Jew. Castell looked from one to the other, and, feeling the insult of theirsilence, grew angry. 

"What!" he exclaimed in a bitter voice, "are you like all the others? Doyou scorn me also because I am of a race more ancient and honourablethan those of any of your mushroom lords and kings? You know my life:say, what have I done wrong? Have I caught Christian children andcrucified them to death? Have I defrauded my neighbour or oppressed thepoor? Have I mocked your symbol of the Host? Have I conspired againstthe rulers of this land? Have I been a false friend or a cruel father?You shake your heads; then why do you stare at me as though I were athing accursed and unclean? Have I not a right to the faith of myfathers? May I not worship God in my own fashion?" And he looked atPeter, a challenge in his eyes. "Sir, " answered Peter, "without adoubt you may, or so it seems to me. But then, why for all these yearshave you appeared to worship Him in ours?"

At this blunt question, so characteristic of the speaker, Castell seemedto shrink like a pin-pricked bladder, or some bold fighter who hassuddenly received a sword-thrust in his vitals. All courage went out ofthe man, his fiery eyes grew tame, he appeared to become visiblysmaller, and to put on something of the air of those mendicants of hisown race, who whine out their woes and beg alms of the passer-by. Whennext he spoke, it was as a suppliant for merciful judgment at the handsof his own child and her lover. 

"Judge me not harshly, " he said. "Think what it is to be a Jew--anoutcast, a thing that the lowest may spurn and spit at, one beyond thelaw, one who can be hunted from land to land like a mad wolf, andtortured to death, when caught, for the sport of gentle Christians, whofirst have stripped him of his gains and very garments. And then thinkwhat it means to escape all these woes and terrors, and, by the doffingof a bonnet, and the mumbling of certain prayers with the lips inpublic, to find sanctuary, peace, and protection within the walls ofMother Church, and thus fostered, to grow rich and great. "

He paused as though for a reply, but as they did not speak, went on:

"Moreover, as a child, I was baptized into your Church; but my heart, like that of my father, remained with the Jews, and where the heart goesthe feet follow. "

"That makes it worse, " said Peter, as though speaking to himself. 

"My father taught me thus, " Castell went on, as though pleading his casebefore a court of law. 

"We must answer for our own sins, " said Peter again. 

Then at length Castell took fire. 

"You young folk, who as yet know little of the terrors of the world, reproach me with cold looks and colder words, " he said; "but I wonder, should you ever come to such a pass as mine, whether you will find theheart to meet it half as bravely? Why do you think that I have told youthis secret, that I might have kept from you as I kept it from yourmother, Margaret? I say because it is a part of my penance for the sinwhich I have sinned. Aye, I know well that my God is a jealous God, andthat this sin will fall back on my head, and that I shall pay its priceto the last groat, though when and how the blow will strike me I knownot. Go you, Peter, or you, Margaret, and denounce me if you will. Yourpriests will speak well of you for the deed, and open to you a shorterroad to Heaven, and I shall not blame you, nor lessen your wealth by asingle golden noble. "

"Do not speak so madly, Sir, " said Peter; "these matters are between youand God. What have we to do with them, and who made us judges over you?We only pray that your fears may come to nothing, and that you may reachyour grave in peace and honour. "

"I thank you for your generous words, which are such as befit yournature, " said Castell gently; "but what says Margaret?"

"I, father?" she answered, wildly. "Oh! I have nothing to say. He isright. It is between you and God; but it is hard that I must lose mylove so soon. " Peter looked up, and Castell answered:

"Lose him! Why, what did he swear but now?"

"I care not what he swore; but how can I ask him, who is of noble, Christian birth, to marry the daughter of a Jew who all his life haspassed himself off as a worshipper of that Jesus Whom he denies?"

Now Peter held up his hand. 

"Have done with such talk, " he said. "Were your father Judas himself, what is that to you and me? You are mine and I am yours till death partus, nor shall the faith of another man stand between us for an hour. Sir, we thank you for your confidence, and of this be sure, thatalthough it makes us sorrowful, we do not love or honour you the lessbecause now we know the truth. "

Margaret rose from her chair, looked a while at her father, then with asob threw herself suddenly upon his breast. 

"Forgive me if I spoke bitterly, " she said, "who, not knowing that I washalf a Jewess, have been taught to hate their race. What is it to me ofwhat faith you are, who think of you only as my dearest father?"

"Why weep then?" asked Castell, stroking her hair tenderly. 

"Because you are in danger, or so you say, and if anything happened toyou--oh! what shall I do then?"

"Accept it as the will of God, and bear the blow bravely, as I hope todo, should it fall, " he answered, and, kissing her, left the chapel. 

"It seems that joy and trouble go hand in hand, " said Margaret, lookingup presently. 

"Yes, Sweet, they were ever twins; but provided we have our share of thefirst, do not let us quarrel with the second. A pest on the priests andall their bigotry, say I! Christ sought to convert the Jews, not to killthem; and for my part I can honour the man who clings to his own faith, aye, and forgive him because they forced him to feign to belong to ours. Pray then that neither of us may live to commit a greater sin, and thatwe may soon be wed and dwell in peace away from London, where we canshelter him. "

"I do--I do, " she answered, drawing close to Peter, and soon they forgottheir fears and doubts in each other's arms. 

On the following morning, that of Sunday, Peter, Margaret, and Bettywent together to Mass at St. Paul's church; but Castell said that he wasill, and did not come. Indeed, now that his conscience was stirred as tothe double life he had led so long, he purposed, if he could avoid it, to worship in a Christian church no more. Therefore he said that he wassick; and they, knowing that this sickness was of the heart, answerednothing. But privately they wondered what he would do who could notalways remain sick, since not to go to church and partake of itsSacraments was to be published as a heretic. 

But if he did not accompany them himself, Castell, without theirknowledge, sent two of his stoutest servants, bidding these keep near tothem and see that they came home safe. 

Now, when they left the church, Peter saw two Spaniards, whose faces hethought he knew, who seemed to be watching them, but, as he lost sightof them presently in the throng, said nothing. Their shortest way homeran across some fields and gardens where there were few houses. Thislane, then, they followed, talking earnestly to each other, and notingnothing till Betty behind called out to them to beware. Then Peterlooked up and saw the two Spaniards scrambling through a gap in thefence not six paces ahead of them, saw also that they laid their handsupon their sword-hilts. 

"Let us pass them boldly, " he muttered to Margaret; "I'll not turn myback on a brace of Spaniards, " but he also laid his hand upon the hiltof the sword he wore beneath his cloak, and bade her get behind him. 

Thus, then, they came face to face. Now, the Spaniards, who wereevil-looking fellows, bowed courteously enough, and asked if he were notMaster Peter Brome. They spoke in Spanish; but, like Margaret Peter knewthis tongue, if not too well, having been taught it as a child, andpractised it much since he came into the service of John Castell, whoused it largely in his trade. 

"Yes, " he answered. "What is your business with me?"

"We have a message for you, Seņor, from a certain comrade of ours, oneAndrew, a Scotchman, whom you met a few nights ago, " replied thespokesman of the pair. "He is dead, but still he sends his message, andit is that we should ask you to join him at once. Now, all of usbrothers have sworn to deliver that message, and to see that you keepthe tryst. If some of us should chance to fail, then others will meetyou with the message until you keep that tryst. "

"You mean that you wish to murder me, " said Peter, setting his mouth anddrawing the sword from beneath his cloak. "Well, come on, cowards, andwe will see whom Andrew gets for company in hell to-day. Run back, Margaret and Betty--run. " And he tore off his cloak and threw it overhis left arm. 

So for a moment they stood, for he looked fierce and ill to deal with. Then, just as they began to feint in front of him, there came a rush offeet, and on either side of Peter appeared the two stout serving-men, also sword in hand. 

"I am glad of your company, " he said, catching sight of them out of thecorners of his eyes. "Now, Seņors Cut-throats, do you still wish todeliver that message?"

The answer of the Spaniards, who saw themselves thus unexpectedlyout-matched, was to turn and run, whereon one of the serving-men, picking up a big stone that lay in the path, hurled it after them withall his force. It struck the hindmost Spaniard full in the back, and soheavy was the blow that he fell on to his face in the mud, whence herose and limped away, cursing them with strange, Spanish oaths, andvowing vengeance. 

"Now, " said Peter, "I think that we may go home in safety, for no moremessengers will come from Andrew to-day. "

"No, " gasped Margaret, "not to-day, but to-morrow or the next day theywill come, and oh! how will it end?"

"That God knows alone, " answered Peter gravely as he sheathed his sword. 

When the story of this attempt was told to Castell he seemed muchdisturbed. 

"It is clear that they have a blood-feud against you on account of thatScotchman whom you killed in self-defence, " he said anxiously. "Alsothese Spaniards are very revengeful, nor have they forgiven you forcalling the English to your aid against them. Peter, I fear that if yougo abroad they will murder you. "

"Well, I cannot stay indoors always, like a rat in a drain, " said Petercrossly, "so what is to be done? Appeal to the law?"

"No; for you have just broken the law by killing a man. I think you hadbest go away for a while till this storm blows over. "

"Go away! Peter go away?" broke in Margaret, dismayed. 

"Yes, " answered her father. "Listen, daughter. You cannot be married atonce. It is not seemly; moreover, notice must be given and arrangementmade. A month hence will be soon enough, and that is not long for you towait who only became affianced yesterday. Also, until you are wed, noword must be said to any one of this betrothal of yours, lest thoseSpaniards should lay their feud at your door also, and work you somemischief. Let none know of it, I charge you, and in company be distantto each other, as though there were nothing between you. "

"As you will, Sir, " replied Peter; "but for my part I do not like allthese hidings of the truth, which ever lead to future trouble. I say, let me bide here and take my chance, and let us be wed as soon asmay be. "

"That your wife may be made a widow before the week is out, or the houseburnt about our ears by these rascals and their following? No, no, Peter; walk softly that you may walk safely. We will hear the report ofthe Spaniard d'Aguilar, and afterwards take counsel. "

CHAPTER VI

FAREWELL

D'Aguilar came to supper that night as he had promised, and this timenot on foot and unattended, but with pomp and circumstance as befitted agreat lord. First appeared two running footmen to clear the way; thenfollowed D'Aguilar, mounted on a fine white horse, and splendidlyapparelled in a velvet cloak and a hat with nodding ostrich plumes, while after him rode four men-at-arms in his livery. 

"We asked one guest, or rather he asked himself, and we have got seven, to say nothing of their horses, " grumbled Castell, watching theirapproach from an upper window. "Well, we must make the best of it. Peter, go, see that man and beast are fed, and fully, that they may notgrumble at our hospitality. The guard can eat in the little hall withour own folk. Margaret, put on your richest robe and your jewels, thosewhich you wore when I took you to that city feast last summer. We willshow these fine, foreign birds that we London merchants have bravefeathers also. "

Peter hesitated, misdoubting him of the wisdom of this display, who, ifhe could have his will, would have sent the Spaniard's following to thetavern, and received him in sober garments to a simple meal. 

But Castell, who seemed somewhat disturbed that night, who loved, moreover, to show his wealth at times after the fashion of a Jew, beganto fume and ask if he must go himself. So the end of it was that Peterwent, shaking his head, while, urged to it by her father, Margaretdeparted also to array herself. 

A few minutes later Castell, in his costliest feast-day robe, greetedd'Aguilar in the ante-hall, and, the two of them being alone, asked himhow matters went as regarded de Ayala and the man who had been killed. 

"Well and ill, " answered d'Aguilar. "Doctor de Puebla, with whom I hopedto deal, has left London in a huff, for he says that there is not roomfor two Spanish ambassadors at Court, so I had to fall back upon deAyala after all. Indeed, twice have I seen that exalted priest upon thesubject of the well-deserved death of his villainous servant, and, aftermuch difficulty, for having lost several men in such brawls, he thoughthis honour touched, he took the fifty gold angels--to be transmitted tothe fellow's family, of course, or so he said--and gave a receipt. Hereit is, " and he handed a paper to Castell, who read it carefully. 

It was to the effect that Peter Brome, having paid a sum of fifty angelsto the relatives of Andrew Pherson, a servant of the Spanish ambassador, which Andrew the said Peter had killed in a brawl, the said ambassadorundertook not to prosecute or otherwise molest the said Peter on accountof the manslaughter which he had committed. 

"But no money has been paid, " said Castell. 

"Indeed yes, I paid it. De Ayala gives no receipts against promises. "

"I thank you for your courtesy, Seņor. You shall have the gold beforeyou leave this house. Few would have trusted a stranger thus far. "

D'Aguilar waved his hand. 

"Make no mention of such a trifle. I would ask you to accept it as atoken of my regard for your family, only that would be to affront sowealthy a man. But listen, I have more to say. You are, or rather yourkinsman Peter, is still in the wood. De Ayala has pardoned him; butthere remains the King of England, whose law he has broken. Well, thisday I have seen the King, who, by the way, talked of you as a worthyman, saying that he had always thought only a Jew could be so wealthy, and that he knew you were not, since you had been reported to him as agood son of the Church, " and he paused, looking at Castell. 

"I fear his Grace magnifies my wealth, which is but small, " answeredCastell coolly, leaving the rest of his speech unnoticed. "But what saidhis Grace?"

"I showed him de Ayala's receipt, and he answered that if his Excellencywas satisfied, he was satisfied, and for his part would not order anyprocess to issue; but he bade me tell you and Peter Brome that if hecaused more tumult in his streets, whatever the provocation, andespecially if that tumult were between English and Spaniards, he wouldhang him at once with trial or without it. All of which he said veryangrily, for the last thing which his Highness desires just now is anynoise between Spain and England. "

"That is bad, " answered Castell, "for this very morning there was nearto being such a tumult, " and he told the story of how the two Spaniardshad waylaid Peter, and one of them been knocked down by the serving-manwith a stone. At this news d'Aguilar shook his head. 

"Then that is just where the trouble lies, " he exclaimed. "I know itfrom my people, who keep me well informed, that all those servants of deAyala, and there are more than twenty of them, have sworn an oath by theVirgin of Seville that before they leave this land they will have yourkinsman's blood in payment for that of Andrew Pherson, who, although aScotchman, was their officer, and a brave man whom they loved much. Now, if they attack him, as they will, there must be a brawl, for Peterfights well, and if there is a brawl, though Peter and the English getthe best of it, as very likely they may, Peter will certainly be hanged, for so the King has promised. "

"Before they leave the land? When do they leave it?"

"De Ayala sails within a month, and his folk with him, for hisco-ambassador, the Doctor de Puebla, will bear with him no more, and haswritten from the country house where he is sulking that one of themmust go. "

"Then I think it is best, Seņor, that Peter should travel for a month. "

"Friend Castell, you are wise; I think so too, and, I counsel you, arrange it at once. Hush! here comes the lady, your daughter. "

As he spoke, Margaret appeared descending the broad oak stairs which ledinto the ante-room. Holding a lamp in her hand, she was in full light, whereas the two men stood in the shadow. She wore a low-cut dress ofcrimson velvet, embroidered about the bodice with dead gold, whichenhanced the dazzling whiteness of her shapely neck and bosom. Round herthroat hung a string of great pearls, and on her head was a net ofgold, studded with smaller pearls, from beneath which her glorious, chestnut-black hair flowed down in rippling waves almost to her knees. Having her father's bidding so to do, she had adorned herself thus thatshe might look her fairest, not in the eyes of their guest, but in thoseof her new-affianced husband. So fair was she seen thus that d'Aguilar, the artist, the adorer of loveliness, caught his breath and shivered atthe sight of her. 

"By the eleven thousand virgins!" he said, "your daughter is morebeautiful than all of them put together. She should be crowned a queen, and bewitch the world. "

"Nay, nay, Seņor, " answered Castell hurriedly; "let her remain humbleand honest, and bewitch her husband. "

"So I should say if I were the husband, " he muttered, then steppedforward, bowing, to meet her. 

Now the light of the silver lamp she held on high flowed over the two ofthem, d'Aguilar and Margaret, and certainly they seemed a well-matchedpair. Both were tall and cast by Nature in a rich and splendid mould;both had that high air of breeding which comes with ancient blood--forwhat bloods are more ancient than those of the Jew and theEastern?--both were slow and stately of movement, low-voiced, anddignified of speech. Castell noted it and was afraid, he knew notof what. 

Peter, entering the room by another door, clad only in his grey clothes, for he would not put on gay garments for the Spaniard, noted it also, and with the quick instinct of love knew this magnificent foreigner fora rival and an enemy. But he was not afraid, only jealous and angry. Indeed, nothing would have pleased him better then than that theSpaniard should have struck him in the face, so that within five minutesit might be shown which of them was the better man. It must come tothis, he felt, and very glad would he have been if it could come at thebeginning and not at the end, so that one or the other of them might besaved much trouble. Then he remembered that he had promised to say orshow nothing of how things stood between him and Margaret, and, comingforward, he greeted d'Aguilar quietly but coldly, telling him that hishorses had been stabled, and his retinue accommodated. 

The Spaniard thanked him very heartily, and they passed in to supper. Itwas a strange meal for all four of them, yet outwardly pleasant enough. Forgetting his cares, Castell drank gaily, and began to talk of the manychanges which he had seen in his life, and of the rise and fall ofkings. D'Aguilar talked also, of the Spanish wars and policy, for in thefirst he had seen much service, and of the other he knew every turn. Itwas easy to see that he was one of those who mixed with courts, and hadthe ear of ministers and majesty. Margaret also, being keen-witted andanxious to learn of the great world that lay beyond Holborn and Londontown, asked questions, seeking to know, amongst other things, what werethe true characters of Ferdinand, King of Aragon, and Isabella his wife, the famous queen. 

"I will tell you in few words, Seņora. Ferdinand is the most ambitiousman in Europe, false also if it serves his purpose. He lives for selfand gain--that money and power. These are his gods, for he has no truereligion. He is not clever but, being very cunning, he will succeed andleave a famous name behind him. "

"An ugly picture, " said Margaret. "And what of his queen?"

"She, " answered d'Aguilar, "is a great woman, who knows how to use thetemper of her time and so attain her ends. To the world she shows atender heart, but beneath it lies hid an iron resolution. "

"What are those ends?" asked Margaret again. 

"To bring all Spain under her rule; utterly to crush the Moors and taketheir territories; to make the Church of Christ triumphant upon earth;to stamp out heresy; to convert or destroy the Jews, " he added slowly, and as he spoke the words, Peter, watching, saw his eyes open andglitter like a snake's--"to bring their bodies to the purifying flames, and their vast wealth into her treasury, and thus earn the praise of thefaithful upon earth, and for herself a throne in heaven. "

For a while there was silence after this speech, then Margaret saidboldly:

"If heavenly thrones are built of human blood and tears, what stone andmortar do they use in hell, I wonder?" Then, without pausing for ananswer, she rose, saying that she was weary, curtseyed to d'Aguilar, herfather and Peter, each in turn, and left the hall. 

When she had gone the talk flagged, and presently d'Aguilar asked forhis men and horses and departed also, saying as he went:

"Friend Castell, you will repeat my news to your good kinsman here. Ipray for all your sakes that he may bow his head to what cannot behelped, and thus keep it safe upon his shoulders. "

"What meant the man?" asked Peter, when the sound of the horses' hoofshad died away. 

Castell told him of what had passed between him and d'Aguilar beforesupper, and showed him de Ayala's receipt, adding in a vexed voice:

"I have forgotten to repay him the gold; it shall be sent to-morrow. "

"Have no fear; he will come for it, " answered Peter coldly. "Now, if Ihave my way, I will take the risk of these Spaniards' swords and KingHenry's rope, and bide here. "

"That you must not do, " said Castell earnestly, "for my sake andMargaret's, if not for yours. Would you make her a widow before she is awife? Listen: it is my wish that you travel down to Essex to takedelivery of your father's land in the Vale of Dedham and see to therepairing of the mansion house, which, I am told, needs it much. Then, when these Spaniards are gone, you can return and at once be married, say one short month hence. "

"Will not you and Margaret come with me to Dedham?"

Castell shook his head. 

"It is not possible. I must wind up my affairs, and Margaret cannot gowith you alone. Moreover, there is no place for her to lodge. I willkeep her here till you return. "

"Yes, Sir; but will you keep her safe? The cozening words of Spaniardsare sometimes more deadly than their swords. "

"I think that Margaret has a medicine against all such arts, " answeredher father with a little smile, and left him. 

On the morrow when Castell told Margaret that her lover must leave herfor a while that night--for this Peter would not do himself--she prayedhim even with tears that he would not send him so far from her, or thatthey might all go together. But he reasoned with her kindly, showing herthat the latter was impossible, and that if Peter did not go at once itwas probable that Peter would soon be dead, whereas, if he went, therewould be but one short month of waiting till the Spaniards had sailed, after which they might be married and live in peace and safety. 

So she came to see that this was best and wisest, and gave way; but oh!heavy were those hours, and sore was their parting. Essex was no farjourney, and to enter into lands which only two days before Peterbelieved he had lost for ever, no sad errand, while the promise that atthe end of a single month he should return to claim his bride hungbefore them like a star. Yet they were sad-hearted, both of them, andthat star seemed very far away. 

Margaret was afraid lest Peter might be waylaid upon the road, but helaughed at her, saying that her father was sending six stout men withhim as an escort, and thus companioned he feared no Spaniards. Peter, for his part, was afraid lest d'Aguilar might make love to her while hewas away. But now she laughed at him, saying that all her heart was his, and that she had none to give to d'Aguilar or any other man. Moreover, that England was a free land in which women, who were no king's wards, could not be led whither they did not wish to go. So it seemed that theyhad naught to fear, save the daily chance of life and death. And yetthey were afraid. 

"Dear love, " said Margaret to him after she had thought a while, "ourroad looks straight and easy, and yet there may be pitfalls in it thatwe cannot guess. Therefore you must swear one thing to me: That whateveryou shall hear or whatever may happen, you will never doubt me as Ishall never doubt you. If, for instance, you should be told that I havediscarded you, and given myself to some other husband; if even youshould believe that you see it signed by my hand, or if you think thatyou hear it told to you by my voice--still, I say, believe it not. "

"How could such a thing be?" asked Peter anxiously. 

"I do not suppose that it could be; I only paint the worst that mighthappen as a lesson for us both. Heretofore my life has been calm as asummer's day; but who knows when winter storms may rise, and often Ihave thought that I was born to know wind and rain and lightning as wellas peace and sunshine. Remember that my father is a Jew, and that to theJews and their children terrible things chance at times. Why, all thiswealth might vanish in an hour, and you might find me in a prison, orclad in rags begging my bread. Now do you swear?" and she held towardshim the gold crucifix that hung upon her bosom. 

"Aye, " he said, "I swear it by this holy token and by your lips, " and hekissed first the cross and then her mouth, adding, "Shall I ask the sameoath of you?"

She laughed. 

"If you will; but it is not needful. Peter, I think that I know you toowell; I think that your heart will never stir even if I be dead and youmarried to another. And yet men are men, and women have wiles, so I willswear this: That should you slip, perchance, and I live to learn it, Iwill try not to judge you harshly. " And again she laughed, she who wasso certain of her empire over this man's heart and body. 

"Thank you, " said Peter; "but for my part I will try to stand straightupon my feet, so should any tales be brought to you of me, sift themwell, I pray you. "

Then, forgetting their doubts and dreads, they talked of their marriage, which they fixed for that day month, and of how they would dwell happilyin Dedham Vale. Also Margaret, who well knew the house, named the OldHall, where they should live, for she had stayed there as a child, gavehim many commands as to the new arrangement of its chambers and itsfurnishing, which, as there was money and to spare, could be as costlyas they willed, saying that she would send him down all things by wainso soon as he was ready for them. 

Thus, then, the hours wore away, until at length night came and theytook their last meal together, the three of them, for it was arrangedthat Peter should start at moonrise, when none were about to see him go. It was not a very happy meal, and, though they made a brave show ofeating, but little food passed their lips. Now the horses were ready, and Margaret buckled on Peter's sword and threw his cloak about hisshoulders, and he, having shaken Castell by the hand and bade him guardtheir jewel safely, without more words kissed her in farewell, and went. 

Taking the silver lamp in her hand, she followed him to the ante-room. At the door he turned and saw her standing there gazing after him withwide eyes and a strained, white face. At the sight of her silent painalmost his heart failed him, almost he refused to go. Then heremembered, and went. 

For a while Margaret still stood thus, until the sound of the horses'hoofs had died away indeed. Then she turned and said:

"Father, I know not how it is, but it seems to me that when Peter and Imeet again it will be far off, yes, far off upon the stormy sea--butwhat sea I know not. " And without waiting for an answer she climbed thestairs to her chamber, and there wept herself to sleep. 

Castell watched her depart, then muttered to himself:

"Pray God she is not foresighted like so many of our race; and yet whyis my own heart so heavy? Well, according to my judgment, I have done mybest for him and her, and for myself I care nothing. "

CHAPTER VII

NEWS FROM SPAIN

Peter Brome was a very quiet man, whose voice was not often heard aboutthe place, and yet it was strange how dull and different the big, oldhouse in Holborn seemed without him. Even the handsome Betty, with whomhe was never on the best of terms, since there was much about her ofwhich he disapproved, missed him, and said so to her cousin, who onlyanswered with a sigh. For in the bottom of her heart Betty both fearedand respected Peter. The fear was of his observant eyes and causticwords, which she knew were always words of truth, and the respect forthe general uprightness of his character, especially where her own sexwas concerned. 

In fact, as has been hinted, some little time before, when Peter hadfirst come to live with the Castells, Betty, thinking him a proper manof gentle birth, such a one indeed as she would wish to marry, had madeadvances to him, which, as he did not seem to notice them, became bydegrees more and more marked. What happened at last they two knew alone, but it was something that caused Betty to become very angry, and tospeak of Peter to her friends as a cold-blooded lout who thought only ofwork and gain. The episode was passing, and soon forgotten by the ladyin the press of other affairs; but the respect remained. Moreover, onone or two occasions, when the love of admiration had led her intogriefs, Peter had proved a good friend, and what was better, a friendwho did not talk. Therefore she wished him back again, especially now, when something that was more than mere vanity and desire for excitementhad taken hold of her, and Betty found herself being swept off her feetinto very deep and doubtful waters. 

The shopmen and the servants missed him also, for to him all disputeswere brought for settlement, nor, provided it had not come about throughlack of honesty, were any pains too great for him to take to help themin a trouble. Most of all Castell missed him, since until Peter had gonehe did not know how much he had learned to rely upon him, both in hisbusiness and as a friend. As for Margaret, her life without him was onelong, empty night. 

Thus it chanced that in such a house any change was welcome, and, thoughshe liked him little enough, Margaret was not even displeased when onemorning Betty told her that the lord d'Aguilar was coming to call on herthat day, and purposed to bring her a present. 

"I do not seek his presents, " said Margaret indifferently; then added, "But how do you know that, Betty?"

The young woman coloured, and tossed her head as she answered:

"I know it, Cousin, because, as I was going to visit my old auntyesterday, who lives on the wharf at Westminster, I met him riding, andhe called out to me, saying that he had a gift for you and one forme also. "

"Be careful you do not meet him too often, Betty, when you chance to bevisiting your aunt. These Spaniards are not always over-honest, as youmay learn to your sorrow. "

"I thank you for your good counsel, " said Betty, shortly, "but I, who amolder than you, know enough of men to be able to guard myself, and cankeep them at a distance. "

"I am glad of it, Betty, only sometimes I have thought that the distancewas scarcely wide enough, " answered Margaret, and left the subject, forshe was thinking of other things. 

That afternoon, when Margaret was walking in the garden, Betty, whoseface seemed somewhat flushed, ran up to her and said that the lordd'Aguilar was waiting in the hall. 

"Very good, " answered Margaret, "I will come. Go, tell my father, thathe may join us. But why are you so disturbed and hurried?" she addedwonderingly. 

"Oh!" answered Betty, "he has brought me a present, so fine a present--amantle of the most wonderful lace that ever I saw, and a comb of mottledshell mounted in gold to keep it off the hair. He made me wait while heshowed me how to put it on, and that was why I ran. "

Margaret did not quite see the connection; but she answered slowly:

"Perhaps it would have been wiser if you had run first. I do notunderstand why this fine lord brings you presents. "

"But he has brought one for you also, Cousin, although he would not saywhat it was. "

"That I understand still less. Go, tell my father that the Seņord'Aguilar awaits him. "

Then she went into the hall, and found d'Aguilar looking at anilluminated Book of Hours in which she had been reading, that waswritten in Spanish in one column and in Latin in that opposite. Hegreeted her in his usual graceful way, that, where Margaret wasconcerned, was easy and well-bred without being bold, and said at once:

"So you read Spanish, Seņora?"

"A little. Not very well, I fear. "

"And Latin also?"

"A little again. I have been taught that tongue. By studying them thus Itry to improve myself in both. "

"I perceive that you are learned as you are beautiful, " and he bowedcourteously. 

"I thank you, Seņor; but I lay claim to neither grace. "

"What need is there to claim that which is evident?" replied d'Aguilar;then added, "But I forgot, I have brought you a present, if you will bepleased to accept it. Or, rather, I bring you what is your own, or atthe least your father's. I bargained with his Excellency Don de Ayala, pointing out that fifty gold angels were too much to pay for that deadrogue of his; but he would give me nothing back in money, since withgold he never parts. Yet I won some change from him, and it standswithout your door. It is a Spanish jennet of the true Moorish blood, which, hundreds of years ago, that people brought with them from theEast. He needs it no longer, as he returns to Spain, and it is trainedto bear a lady. " Margaret did not know what to answer, but, fortunately, at that moment her father appeared, and to him d'Aguilarrepeated his tale, adding that he had heard his daughter say that thehorse she rode had fallen with her, so that she could use it no more. 

Now, Castell did not wish to accept this gift, for such he felt it tobe; but d'Aguilar assured him that if he did not he must sell it andreturn him the price in money, as it did not belong to him. So, therebeing no help for it, he thanked him in his daughter's name and his own, and they went into the stable-yard, whither it had been taken, to lookat this horse. 

The moment that Castell saw it he knew that it was a creature of greatvalue, pure white in colour, with a long, low body, small head, gentleeyes, round hoofs, and flowing mane and tail, such a horse, indeed, as aqueen might have ridden. Now again he was confused, being sure that thisbeast had never been given back as a luck-penny, since it would havefetched more than the fifty angels on the market; moreover, it washarnessed with a woman's saddle and bridle of the most beautifullyworked red Cordova leather, to which were attached a silver bit andstirrup. But d'Aguilar smiled, and vowed that things were as he had toldthem, so there was nothing more to be said. Margaret, too, was sopleased with the mare, which she longed to ride, that she forgot herscruples, and tried to believe that this was so. Noting her delight, which she could not conceal as she patted the beautiful beast, d'Aguilar said:

"Now I will ask one thing in return for the bargain that I havemade--that I may see you mount this horse for the first time. You toldme that you and your father were wont to go out together in themorning. Have I your leave, Sir, " and he turned to Castell, "to ridewith you before breakfast, say, at seven of the clock, for I would showthe lady, your daughter, how she should manage a horse of this blood, which is something of a trick?"

"If you will, " answered Castell--"that is, if the weather is fine, " forthe offer was made so courteously that it could scarcely be refused. 

D'Aguilar bowed, and they re-entered the house, talking of othermatters. When they were in the hall again, he asked whether theirkinsman Peter had reached his destination safely, adding:

"I pray you, do not tell me where it is, for I wish to be able to put myhand upon my heart and swear to all concerned, and especially to certainfellows who are still seeking for him, that I know nothing of hishiding-place. "

Castell answered that he had, since but a few minutes before a letterhad come from him announcing his safe arrival, tidings at which Margaretlooked up, then, remembering her promise, said that she was glad to hearof it, as the roads were none too safe, and spoke indifferently ofsomething else. D'Aguilar added that he also was glad, then, rising, took his leave "till seven on the morrow. "

When he had gone, Castell gave Margaret a letter, addressed to her inPeter's stiff, upright hand, which she read eagerly. It began and endedwith sweet words, but, like his speech, was brief and to the point, saying only that he had accomplished his journey without adventure, andwas very glad to find himself again in the old house where he was born, and amongst familiar fields and faces. On the morrow he was to see thetradesmen as to alterations and repairs which were much needed, even themoat being choked with mud and weeds. His last sentence was: "I muchmistrust me of that fine Spaniard, and I am jealous to think that heshould be near to you while I am far away. Beware of him, I say--bewareof him. May the Mother of God and all the saints have you in theirkeeping! Your most true affianced lover. "

This letter Margaret answered before she slept, for the messenger was toreturn at dawn, telling Peter, amongst other things, of the gift whichd'Aguilar had brought her, and how she and her father were forced toaccept it, but bidding him not be jealous, since, although the gift waswelcome, she liked the giver little, who did but count the hours tillher true lover should come back again and take her to himself. 

Next morning she was up early, clothed in her riding-dress, for the daywas very fine, and by seven o'clock d'Aguilar appeared, mounted on agreat horse. Then the Spanish jennet was brought out, and deftly helifted her to the saddle, showing her how she must pull but lightly onthe reins, and urge or check her steed with her voice alone, using nowhip or spur. 

A perfect beast it proved to be, indeed, gentle as a lamb, and easy, yetvery spirited and swift. 

D'Aguilar was a pleasant cavalier also, talking of many things grave andgay, until at length even Castell forgot his thoughts, and grew cheerfulas they cantered forward through the fresh spring morning by heath andhill and woodland, listening to the singing of the birds, and watchingthe husbandmen at their labour. This ride was but the first of severalthat they took, since d'Aguilar knew their hours of exercise, even whenthey changed them, and whether they asked him or not, joined or met themin such a natural fashion that they could not refuse his company. Indeed, they were much puzzled to know how he came to be so wellacquainted with their movements, and even with the direction in whichthey proposed to ride, but supposed that he must have it from thegrooms, although these were commanded to say nothing, and always deniedhaving spoken with him. That Betty should speak of such matters, or evenfind opportunity of doing so, never chanced to cross their minds, whodid not guess that if they rode with d'Aguilar in the morning, Bettyoften walked with him in the evening when she was supposed to be atchurch, or sewing, or visiting her aunt upon the wharf at Westminster. But of these walks the foolish girl said nothing, for her own reasons. 

Now, as they rode together, although he remained very courteous andrespectful, the manner of d'Aguilar towards Margaret grew ever moreclose and intimate. Thus he began to tell her stories, true or false, ofhis past life, which seemed to have been strange and eventful enough; tohint, too, of a certain hidden greatness that pertained to him which hedid not dare to show, and of high ambitions which he had. He spoke alsoof his loneliness, and his desire to lose it in the companionship of akindred heart, if he could find one to share his wealth, his station, and his hopes; while all the time his dark eyes, fixed on Margaret, seemed to say, "The heart I seek is such a one as yours. " At length, at some murmured word or touch, she took affright, and, since she couldnot avoid him abroad, determined to stay at home, and, much as she lovedthe sport, to ride no more till Peter should return. So she gave outthat she had hurt her knee, which made the saddle painful to her, andthe beautiful Spanish mare was left idle in the stable, or mounted onlyby the groom. 

Thus for some days she was rid of d'Aguilar, and employed herself inreading and working, or in writing long letters to Peter, who was busyenough at Dedham, and sent her thence many commissions to fulfil. 

One afternoon Castell was seated in his office deciphering letters whichhad just reached him. The night before his best ship, of over twohundred tons burden, which was named the _Margaret_, after his daughter, had come safely into the mouth of the Thames from Spain. That eveningshe was to reach her berth at Gravesend with the tide, when Castellproposed to go aboard of her to see to the unloading of her cargo. Thiswas the last of his ships which remained unsold, and it was his plan tore-load and victual her at once with goods that were waiting, and sendher back to the port of Seville, where his Spanish partners, in whosename she was already registered, had agreed to take her over at a fixedprice. This done, it was only left for him to hand over his business tothe merchants who had purchased it in London, after which he would befree to depart, a very wealthy man, and spend the evening of his days atpeace in Essex, with his daughter and her husband, as now he so greatlylonged to do. So soon as they were within the river banks the captain ofthis ship, Smith by name, had landed the cargo-master with letters anda manifest of cargo, bidding him hire a horse and bring them to MasterCastell's house in Holborn. This the man had done safely, and it wasthese letters that Castell read. 

One of them was from his partner Bernaldez in Seville; not in answer tothat which he had written on the night of the opening of thishistory--for this there had been no time--yet dealing with matterswhereof it treated. In it was this passage:

"You will remember what I wrote to you of a certain envoy who has beensent to the Court of London, who is called d'Aguilar, for as our cipheris so secret, and it is important that you should be warned, I take therisk of writing his name. Since that letter I have learned moreconcerning this grandee, for such he is. Although he calls himself plainDon d'Aguilar, in truth he is the Marquis of Morella, and on one side, it is said, of royal blood, if not on both, since he is reported to bethe son born out of wedlock of Prince Carlos of Viana, the half-brotherof the king. The tale runs that Carlos, the learned and gentle, fell inlove with a Moorish lady of Aguilar of high birth and great wealth, forshe had rich estates at Granada and elsewhere, and, as he might notmarry her because of the difference of their rank and faiths, lived withher without marriage, of which union one son was born. Before PrinceCarlos died, or was poisoned, and while he was still a prisoner atMorella, he gave to, or procured for this boy the title of marquis, choosing from some fancy the name of Morella, that place where he hadsuffered so much. Also he settled some private lands upon him. After theprince died, the Moorish lady, his lover, who had secretly become aChristian, took her son to live at her palace in Granada, where she diedalso some ten years ago, leaving all her great wealth to him, for shenever married. At this time it is said that his life was in danger, forthe reason that, although he was half a Moor, too much of theblood-royal ran in his veins. But the Marquis was clever, and persuadedthe king and queen that he had no ambition beyond his pleasures. Alsothe Church interceded for him, since to it he proved himself a faithfulson, persecuting all heretics, especially the Jews, and even Moors, although they are of his own blood. So in the end he was confirmed inhis possessions and left alone, although he refused to become a priest. 

"Since then he has been made an agent of the Crown at Granada, andemployed upon various embassies to London, Rome, and elsewhere, onmatters connected with the faith and the establishment of the HolyInquisition. That is why he is again in England at this moment, beingcharged to obtain the names and particulars concerning all Maranossettled there, especially if they trade with Spain. I have seen thenames of those of whom he must inquire most closely, and that is why Iwrite to you so fully, since yours is first upon the list. I think, therefore, that you do wisely to wind up your business with thiscountry, and especially to sell your ships to us outright and quickly, since otherwise they might be seized--like yourself, if you came here. My counsel to you is--hide your wealth, which will be great when we havepaid you all we owe, and go to some place where you will be forgottenfor a while, since that bloodhound d'Aguilar, for so he calls himself, after his mother's birthplace, has not tracked you to London fornothing. As yet, thanks be to God, no suspicion has fallen on any of us;perhaps because we have many in our pay. "

When Castell had finished transcribing all this passage he read itthrough carefully. Then he went into the hall, where a fire burned, forthe day was cold, and threw the translation on to it, watching until itwas consumed, after which he returned to his office, and hid away theletter in a secret cupboard behind the panelling of the wall. This done, he sat himself in his chair to think. 

"My good friend Juan Bernaldez is right, " he said to himself;"d'Aguilar, or the Marquis Morella, does not nose me and the others outfor nothing. Well, I shall not trust myself in Spain, and the money, most of it, except what is still to come from Spain, is put out where itwill never be found by him, at good interest too. All seems safeenough--and yet I would to God that Peter and Margaret were fastmarried, and that we three sat together, out of sight and mind, in theOld Hall at Dedham. I have carried on this game too long. I should haveclosed my books a year ago; but the trade was so good that I could not. I was wise also, who in this one lucky year have nearly doubled myfortune. And yet it would have been safer, before they guessed that Iwas so rich. Greed--mere greed--for I do not need this money which maydestroy us all! Greed! The ancient pitfall of my race. "

As he thought thus there came a knock upon his door. Snatching up a penhe dipped it in the ink-horn and, calling "Enter, " began to add a columnof figures on a paper before him. 

The door opened; but he seemed to take no heed, so diligently did hecount his figures. Yet, although his eyes were fixed upon the paper, insome way that he could not understand he was well aware that d'Aguilarand no other stood in the room behind him, the truth being, no doubt, that unconsciously he had recognised his footstep. For a moment theknowledge turned him cold--he who had just been reading of the missionof this man--and feared what was to come. Yet he acted well. 

"Why do you disturb me, Daughter?" he said testily, and without lookinground. "Have not things gone ill enough with half the cargo destroyed bysea-water, and the rest, that you must trouble me while I sum up mylosses?" And, casting the pen down, he turned his stool roundimpatiently. 

Yes! there sure enough stood d'Aguilar, very handsomely arrayed, andsmiling and bowing as was his custom. 

CHAPTER VIII

D'AGUILAR SPEAKS

"Losses?" said d'Aguilar. "Do I hear the wealthy John Castell, who holdshalf the trade with Spain in the hollow of his hand, talk of losses?"

"Yes, Seņor, you do. Things have gone ill with this ship of mine thathas barely lived through the spring gales. But be seated. "

"Indeed, is that so?" said d'Aguilar as he sat down. "What a lying jadeis rumour! For I was told that they had gone very well. Doubtless, however, what is loss to you would be priceless gain to one like me. "

Castell made no answer, but waited, feeling that his visitor had notcome to speak with him of his trading ventures. 

"Seņor Castell, " said d'Aguilar, with a note of nervousness in hisvoice, "I am here to ask you for something. "

"If it be a loan, Seņor, I fear that the time is not opportune. " And henodded towards the sheet of figures. 

"It is not a loan; it is a gift. "

"Anything in my poor house is yours, " answered Castell courteously, andin Oriental form. 

"I rejoice to hear it, Seņor, for I seek something from your house. "

Castell looked a question at him with his quick black eyes. 

"I seek your daughter, the Seņora Margaret, in marriage. "

Castell stared at him, then a single word broke from his lips. 

"Impossible. "

"Why impossible?" asked d'Aguilar slowly, yet as one who expected somesuch answer. "In age we are not unsuited, nor perhaps in fortune, whileof rank I have enough, more than you guess perhaps. I vaunt not myself, yet women have thought me not uncomely. I should be a good friend to thehouse whence I took a wife, where perchance a day may come when friendswill be needed; and lastly, I desire her not for what she may bring withher, though wealth is always welcome, but--I pray you to believeit--because I love her. "

"I have heard that the Seņor d'Aguilar loves many women, yonder inGranada. "

"As I have heard that the _Margaret_ had a prosperous voyage, SeņorCastell. Rumour, as I said but now, is a lying jade. Yet I will not copyher. I have been no saint. Now I would become one, for Margaret's sake. I will be true to your daughter, Seņor. What say you now?"

Castell only shook his head. 

"Listen, " went on d'Aguilar. "I am more than I seem to be; she who wedsme will not lack for rank and titles. "

"Yes, you are the Marquis de Morella, the reputed son of Prince Carlosof Viana by a Moorish mother, and therefore nephew to his Majestyof Spain. "

D'Aguilar looked at him, then bowed and said:

"Your information is good--as good as mine, almost. Doubtless you do notlike that bar in the blood. Well, if it were not there, I should bewhere Ferdinand is, should I not? So I do not like it either, though itis good blood and ancient--that of those high-bred Moors. Now, may notthe nephew of a king and the son of a princess of Granada be fit to matewith the daughter of--a Jew, yes, a Marano, and of a Christian Englishlady, of good family, but no more?"

Castell lifted his hand as though to speak; but d'Aguilar went on:

"Deny it not, friend; it is not worth while here in private. Was therenot a certain Isaac of Toledo who, hard on fifty years ago, left Spain, for his own reasons, with a little son, and in London became known asJoseph Castell, having, with his son, been baptized into the HolyChurch? Ah! you see you are not the only one who studies genealogies. "

"Well, Seņor, if so, what of it?"

"What of it? Nothing at all, friend Castell. It is an old story, is itnot, and, as that Isaac is long dead and his son has been a goodChristian for nearly fifty years and had a Christian wife and child, whowill trouble himself about such a matter? If he were openly a Hebrewnow, or worse still, if pretending to be a Christian, he in secretpractised the rites of the accursed Jews, why then----"

"Then what?"

"Then, of course, he would be expelled this land, where no Jew maylive, his wealth would be forfeit to its king, whose ward his daughterwould become, to be given in marriage where he willed, while he himself, being Spanish born, might perhaps be handed over to the power of Spain, there to make answer to these charges. But we wander to strange matters. Is that alliance still impossible, Seņor?"

Castell looked him straight in the eyes and answered:

"Yes. "

There was something so bold and direct in his utterance of the word thatfor a moment d'Aguilar seemed to be taken aback. He had not expectedthis sharp denial. 

"It would be courteous to give a reason, " he said presently. 

"The reason is simple, Marquis. My daughter is already betrothed, andwill ere long be wedded. "

D'Aguilar did not seem surprised at this intelligence. 

"To that brawler, your kinsman, Peter Brome, I suppose?" he saidinterrogatively. "I guessed as much, and by the saints I am sorry forher, for he must be a dull lover to one so fair and bright; while as ahusband--" And he shrugged his shoulders. "Friend Castell, for her sakeyou will break off this match. "

"And if I will not, Marquis?"

"Then I must break it off for you in the interest of all of us, including, of course, myself, who love her, and wish to lift her to agreat place, and of yourself, whom I desire should pass your old age inpeace and wealth, and not be hunted to your death like a mad dog. "

"How will you break it, Marquis? by--"

"Oh no, Seņor!" answered d'Aguilar, "not by other men's swords--if thatis what you mean. The worthy Peter is safe from them so far as I amconcerned, though if he should come face to face with mine, then let thebest man win. Have no fear, friend, I do not practise murder, who valuemy own soul too much to soak it in blood, nor would I marry a womanexcept of her own free will. Still, Peter may die, and the fair Margaretmay still place her hand in mine and say, 'I choose you as my husband. '"

"All these things, and many others, may happen, Marquis; but I do notthink it likely that they will happen, and for my part, whilst thankingyou for it, I decline your honourable offer, believing that my daughterwill be more happy in her present humble state with the man she haschosen. Have I your leave to return to my accounts?" And he rose. 

"Yes, Seņor, " answered d'Aguilar, rising also; "but add an item to thoselosses of which you spoke, that of the friendship of Carlos, Marquis deMorella, and on the other side enter again that of his hate. Man!" headded, and his dark, handsome face turned very evil as he spoke, "areyou mad? Think of the little tabernacle behind the altar in your chapel, and what it contains. "

Castell stared at him, then said:

"Come, let us see. Nay, fear no trick; like you I remember my soul, anddo not stain my hands with blood. Follow me, so you will be safe. "

Curiosity, or some other reason, prompted d'Aguilar to obey, andpresently they stood behind the altar. 

"Now, " said Castell, as he drew the tapestry and opened the secret door, "look!" D'Aguilar peered into the place; but where should have beenthe table, the ark, the candlesticks, and the roll of the law of whichBetty had told him, were only old dusty boxes filled with parchments andsome broken furniture. 

"What do you see?" asked Castell. 

"I see, friend, that you are even a cleverer Jew than I thought. Butthis is a matter that you must explain to others in due season. Believeme, I am no inquisitor. " Then without more words he turned and left him. 

When Castell, having shut the secret door and drawn the tapestry, hurried from the chapel, it was to find that the marquis had departed. 

He went back to his office much disturbed, and sat himself down there tothink. Truly Fate, that had so long been his friend, was turning itsface against him. Things could not have gone worse. D'Aguilar haddiscovered the secret of his faith through his spies, and, having bysome accursed mischance fallen in love with his daughter's beauty, wasbecome his bitter enemy because he must refuse her to him. Why must herefuse her? The man was of great position and noble blood; she wouldbecome the wife of one of the first grandees of Spain, one who stoodnearest to the throne. Perhaps--such a thing was possible--she mightlive herself to be queen, or the mother of kings. Moreover, thatmarriage meant safety for himself; it meant a quiet age, a peaceabledeath in his own bed--for, were he fifty times a Marano, who would touchthe father-in-law of the Marquis de Morella? Why? Just because he hadpromised her in marriage to Peter Brome, and through all his life as amerchant he had never yet broken with a bargain because it went againsthimself. That was the answer. Yet almost he could find it in his heartto wish that he had never made that bargain; that he had kept Peter, whohad waited so long, waiting for another month. Well, it was too latenow. He had passed his word, and he would keep it, whatever thecost might be. 

Rising, he called one of the servants, and bade her summon Margaret. Presently she returned, saying that her mistress had gone out walkingwith Betty, adding also that his horse was at the door for him to rideto the river, where he was to pass the night on board his ship. 

Taking paper, he bethought him that he would write to Margaret, warningher against the Spaniard. Then, remembering that she had nothing to fearfrom him, at any rate at present, and that it was not wise to set downsuch matters, he told her only to take good care of herself, and that hewould be back in the morning. 

That evening, when Margaret was in her own little sitting-chamber whichadjoined the great hall, the door opened, and she looked up from thework upon which she was engaged, to see d'Aguilar standing before her. 

"Seņor!" she said, amazed, "how came you here?"

"Seņora, " he answered, closing the door and bowing, "my feet brought me. Had I any other means of coming I think that I should not often beabsent from our side. "

"Spare me your fine words, I pray you, Seņor, " answered Margaret, frowning. "It is not fitting that I should receive you thus alone atnight, my father being absent from the house. " And she made as thoughshe would pass him and reach the door. 

D'Aguilar, who stood in front of it, did not move, so perforce shestopped half way. 

"I found that he was absent, " he said courteously, "and that is why Iventure to address you upon a matter of some importance. Give me a fewminutes of your time, therefore, I beseech you. "

Now, at once the thought entered Margaret's mind that he had some newsof Peter to communicate to her--bad news perhaps. 

"Be seated, and speak on, Seņor, " she said, sinking into a chair, whilehe too sat down, but still in front of the door. 

"Seņora, " he said, "my business in this country is finished, and in afew days I sail hence for Spain. " And he hesitated a moment. 

"I trust that your voyage will be pleasant, " said Margaret, not knowingwhat else to answer. 

"I trust so also, Seņora, since I have come to ask you if you will shareit. Listen, before you refuse. To-day I saw your father, and begged yourhand of him. He would give me no answer, neither yea nor nay, sayingthat you were your own mistress, and that I must seek it fromyour lips. "

"My father said that?" gasped Margaret, astonished, then bethought herthat he might have had reasons for speaking so, and went on rapidly, "Well, it is short and simple. I thank you, Seņor; but stayin England. "

"Even that I would be willing to do for your sake Seņora, though, intruth, I find it a cold and barbarous country. "

"If so, Seņor d'Aguilar, I think that I should go to Spain. I pray youlet me pass. "

"Not till you have heard me out, Seņora, when I trust that your wordswill be more gentle. See now I am a great man in my own country. Although it suits me to pass here incognito as plain Seņor d'Aguilar Iam the Marquis of Morella, the nephew of Ferdinand the King, with somewealth and station, official and private. If you disbelieve me, I canprove it to you. "

"I do not disbelieve, " answered Margaret indifferently, "it may well beso; but what is that to me?"

"Then is it not something, Lady, that I, who have blood-royal in myveins, should seek the daughter of a merchant to be my wife?"

"Nothing at all--to me, who am satisfied with my humble lot. "

"Is it nothing to you that I should love as I do, with all my heart andsoul? Marry me, and I tell you that I will lift you high, yes, perhapseven to the throne. "

She thought a moment, then asked:

"The bribe is great, but how would you do that? Many a maid has beendeceived with false jewels, Seņor. "

"How has it been done before? Not every one loves Ferdinand. I have manyfriends who remember that my father was poisoned by his father andFerdinand's, he being the elder son. Also, my mother was a princess ofthe Moors, and if I, who dwell among them as the envoy of theirMajesties, threw in my sword with theirs--or there are other ways. But Iam speaking things that have never passed my lips before, which, werethey known, would cost me my head--let it serve to show how much Itrust you. "

"I thank you, Seņor, for your trust; but this crown seems to me set upona peak that it is dangerous to climb, and I had sooner sit in safety onthe plain. "

"You reject the pomp, " went on d'Aguilar in his passionate, pleadingvoice, "then will not the love move you? Oh! you shall be worshipped asnever woman was. I swear to you that in your eyes there is a light whichhas set my heart on fire, so that it burns night and day, and will notbe quenched. Your voice is my sweetest music, your hair is a cord thatbinds me to you faster than the prisoner's chain, and, when you pass, for me Venus walks the earth. More, your mind is pure and noble as yourbeauty, and by the aid of it I shall be lifted up through the highplaces of the earth to some white throne in heaven. I love you, my lady, my fair Margaret; because of you, all other women are become coarse andhateful in my sight. See how much I love you, that I, one of the firstgrandees of Spain, do this for your sweet sake, " and suddenly he casthimself upon his knees before her, and lifting the hem of her dresspressed it to his lips. 

Margaret looked down at him, and the anger that was rising in her breastmelted, while with it went her fear. This man was much in earnest; shecould not doubt it. The hand that held her robe trembled like shakenwater, his face was ashen, and in his dark eyes swam tears. What causehad she to be afraid of one who was so much her slave?

"Seņor, " she said very gently, "rise, I pray you. Do not waste all thislove upon one who chances to have caught your fancy, but who is quiteunworthy of it, and far beneath you; one, moreover, by whom it may notbe returned. Seņor, I am already affianced. Therefore, put me out ofyour mind and find some other love. "

He rose and stood in front of her. 

"Affianced, " he said, "I knew it. Nay, I will say no ill of the man; torevile one more fortunate is poor argument. But what is it to me if youare affianced? What to me if you were wed? I should seek you all thesame, who have no choice. Beneath me? You are as far above me as a star, and it would seem as hard to reach. Seek some other love? I tell you, lady, that I have sought many, for not all are so hard to win, and Ihate them every one. You I desire alone, and shall desire till I bedead, aye, and you I will win or die. No, I will not die till you are myown. Have no fear, I will not kill your lover, save perhaps in fairfight; I will not force you to give yourself to me, should I find thechance, but with your own lips I will yet listen to you asking me to beyour husband. I swear it by Him Who died for us. I swear that, layingaside all other ends, to that sole purpose I will devote my days. Yes, and should you chance to pass from earth before me, then I will followyou to the very gates of death and clasp you there. "

Now again Margaret's fear returned to her. This man's passion wasterrible, yet there was a grandeur in it; Peter had never spoken to herin so high a fashion. 

"Seņor, " she said almost pleadingly, "corpses are poor brides; have donewith such sick fancies, which surely must be born of yourEastern blood. "

"It is your blood also, who are half a Jew, and, therefore, at least youshould understand them. "

"Mayhap I do understand, mayhap I think them great in their own fashion, yes, noble even, and admire, if it can be noble to seek to win awayanother man's betrothed. But, Seņor, I am that man's betrothed, and allof me, my body and my soul, is his, nor would I go back upon my word, and so break his heart, to win the empire of the earth. Seņor, once moreI implore you to leave this poor maid to the humble life that she haschosen, and to forget her. "

"Lady, " answered d'Aguilar, "your words are wise and gentle, and I thankyou for them. But I cannot forget you, and that oath I swore just now Iswear again, thus. " And before she could prevent him, or even guess whathe was about to do, he lifted the gold crucifix that hung by a chainabout her neck, kissed it, and let it fall gently back upon her breast, saying, "See, I might have kissed your lips before you could have stayedme, but that I will never do until you give me leave, so in place ofthem I kiss the cross, which till then we both must carry. Lady, my ladyMargaret, within a day or two I sail for Spain, but your image shallsail with me, and I believe that ere long our paths must cross again. How can it be otherwise since the threads of your life and mine wereintertwined on that night outside the Palace of Westminster--intertwined never to be separated till one of us has ceasedto be, and then only for a little while. Lady, for the present, farewell. "

Then swiftly and silently as he had come, d'Aguilar went. 

It was Betty who let him out at the side door, as she had let him in. More, glancing round to see that she was not observed--for it chancednow that Peter was away with some of the best men, and the master wasout with others, no one was on watch this night--leaving the door ajarthat she might re-enter, she followed him a little way, till they cameto an old arch, which in some bygone time had led to a house now pulleddown. Into this dark place Betty slipped, touching d'Aguilar on the armas she did so. For a moment he hesitated, then, muttering some Spanishoath between his teeth, followed her. 

"Well, most fair Betty, " he said, "what word have you for me now?"

"The question is, Seņor Carlos, " answered Betty with scarcely suppressedindignation, "what word you have for me, who dared so much for youto-night? That you have plenty for my cousin, I know, since standing inthe cold garden I could hear you talk, talk, talk, through the shutters, as though for your very life. "

"I pray that those shutters had no hole in them, " reflected d'Aguilar tohimself. "No, there was a curtain also; she can have seen nothing. " Butaloud he answered: "Mistress Betty, you should not stand about in thisbitter wind; you might fall ill, and then what should I suffer?"

"I don't know, nothing perhaps; that would be left to me. What I want tounderstand is, why you plan to come to see me, and then spend an hourwith Margaret?"

"To avert suspicion, most dear Betty. Also I had to talk to her of thisPeter, in whom she seems so greatly interested. You are very shrewd, Betty--tell me, is that to be a match?"

"I think so; I have been told nothing, but I have noticed many things, and almost every day she is writing to him, though why she should carefor that owl of a man I cannot guess. "

"Doubtless because she appreciates solid worth, Betty, as I do in you. Who can account for the impulses of the heart, which come, say some ofthe learned, from heaven, and others, from hell? At least it is noaffair of ours, so let us wish them happiness, and, after they aremarried, a large and healthy family. Meanwhile, dear Betty, are youmaking ready for your voyage to Spain?"

"I don't know, " answered Betty gloomily. "I am not sure that I trust youand your fine words. If you want to marry me, as you swear, and be sureI look for nothing less, why cannot it be before we start, and how am Ito know that you will do so when we get there?"

"You ask many questions, Betty, all of which I have answered before. Ihave told you that I cannot marry you here because of that permissionwhich is necessary on account of the difference in our ranks. Here, where your place is known, it is not to be had; there, where you willpass as a great English lady--as of course you are by birth--I canobtain it in an hour. But if you have any doubts, although it cuts meto the heart to say it, it would be best that we should part at once. Iwill take no wife who does not trust me fully and alone. Say then, cruelBetty, do you wish to leave me?"

"You know I don't; you know it would kill me, " she answered in a voicethat was thick with passion, "you know I worship the ground you tread on, and hate every woman you go near, yes, even my cousin who has been sogood to me, and whom I love. I will take the risk and come with you, believing you to be an honest gentleman, who would not deceive a girlwho trusts him; and if you do, may God deal with you as I shall, for Iam no toy to be broken and thrown away, as you would find out. Yes, Iwill take the risk because you have made me love you so that I cannotlive without you. "

"Betty, your words fill me with rapture, showing me that I have notmisread your noble mind; but speak a little lower--there are echoes inthis hole. Now for the plans, for time is short, and you may be missed. When I am about to sail I will invite Mistress Margaret and yourself tocome aboard my ship. "

"Why not invite me without my cousin Margaret?" asked Betty. 

"Because it would excite suspicion which we must avoid--do not interruptme. I will invite you both or get you there upon some other pretext, andthen I will arrange that she shall be brought ashore again and you takenon. Leave it all to me, only swear that you will obey any instructions Imay send you for if you do not, I tell you that we have enemies in highplaces who may part us for ever. Betty, I will be frank, there is agreat lady who is jealous, and watches you very closely. Do you swear?"

"Yes, yes, I swear. But about the great lady?"

"Not a word about her--on your life--and mine. You shall hear from meshortly. And now, sweetheart--good-night. "

"Good-night, " said Betty, but still she did not stir. 

Then, understanding that she expected something more, d'Aguilar nervedhimself to the task, and touched her hair with his lips. 

Next moment he regretted it, for even that tempered salute fanned herpassion into flame. 

Throwing her arms about his neck Betty drew his face to hers and kissedhim many times, till at length he broke, half choking, from her embrace, and escaped into the street. 

"Mother of Heaven!" he muttered to himself, "the woman is a volcano ineruption. I shall feel her kisses for a week, " and he rubbed his faceruefully with his hand. "I wish I had made some other plan; but it istoo late to change it now--she would betray everything. Well, I will berid of her somehow, if I have to drown her. A hard fate to love themistress and be loved of the maid!"

CHAPTER IX

THE SNARE

On the following morning, when Castell returned, Margaret told him ofthe visit of d'Aguilar, and of all that had passed between them, toldhim also that he was acquainted with their secret, since he had spokenof her as half a Jew. 

"I know it, I know it, " answered her father, who was much disturbed andvery angry, "for yesterday he threatened me also. But let that go, I cantake my chance; now I would learn who brought this man into my housewhen I was absent, and without my leave. "

"I fear that it was Betty, " said Margaret, "who swears that she thoughtshe did no wrong. "

"Send for her, " said Castell. Presently Betty came, and, beingquestioned, told a long story. 

She said she was standing by the side door, taking the air, when Seņord'Aguilar appeared, and, having greeted her, without more words walkedinto the house, saying that he had an appointment with the master. 

"With me?" broke in Castell. "I was absent. "

"I did not know that you were absent, for I was out when you rode awayin the afternoon, and no one had spoken of it to me, so, thinking thathe was your friend, I let him in, and let him out again afterwards. Thatis all I have to say. "

"Then I have to say that you are a hussy and a liar, and that, in oneway or the other, this Spaniard has bribed you, " answered Castellfiercely. "Now, girl, although you are my wife's cousin, and thereforemy daughter's kin, I am minded to turn you out on to the streetto starve. "

At this Betty first grew angry, then began to weep; while Margaretpleaded with her father, saying that it would mean the girl's ruin, andthat he must not take such a sin upon him. So the end of it was, that, being a kind-hearted man, remembering also that Betty Dene was of hiswife's blood, and that she had favoured her as her daughter did, herelented, taking measures to see that she went abroad no more save inthe company of Margaret, and that the doors were opened only bymen-servants. 

So this matter ended. 

That day Margaret wrote to Peter, telling him of all that had happened, and how the Spaniard had asked her in marriage, though the words that heused she did not tell. At the end of her letter, also, she bade him haveno fear of the Seņor d'Aguilar or of any other man, as he knew where herheart was. 

When Peter received this writing he was much vexed to learn that bothMaster Castell and Margaret had incurred the enmity of d'Aguilar, for sohe guessed it must be, also that Margaret should have been troubled withhis love-making; but for the rest he thought little of the matter, whotrusted her as he trusted heaven. Still it made him anxious to return toLondon as soon as might he, even though he must take the risk of theSpaniards' daggers. Within three days, however, he received otherletters both from Castell and from Margaret, which set his fearsat rest. 

These told him that d'Aguilar had sailed for Spain indeed, Castell saidthat he had seen him standing on the poop of the Ambassador de Ayala'svessel as it dropped down the Thames towards the sea. Moreover, Margarethad a note of farewell from his hand, which ran:

"Adieu, sweet lady, till that predestined hour whenwe meet again. I go, as I must, but, as I told you, yourimage goes with me. 

 "Your worshipper till death, "MORELLA. "

"He may take her image so long as I keep herself and if he comes backwith his worship, I promise him that death and he shall not be farapart, " was Peter's grim comment as he laid the paper down. Then he wenton with his letters, which told that now, when the Spaniards had gone, and there was nothing more to fear, he was awaited in London. Indeed, Castell fixed a day when he should arrive--May 31st--that was within aweek, adding that on its morrow--namely, June 1st, for Margaret wouldnot be wed in May, the Virgin Mary's month, since she held it to beunlucky--their marriage might take place as quietly as they would. 

Margaret wrote the same news, and in such sweet words that he kissed herletter, then hastened to answer it, shortly, after his custom, for Peterwas no great scribe, saying, that if the saints willed it he would bewith them by nightfall on the last day of May, and that in all Englandthere was no happier man than he. 

 * * * * *

Now all that week Margaret was very busy preparing her marriage robe, and other garments also, for it was settled that on the next day theyshould ride together down to Dedham, in Essex, whither her father wouldfollow them shortly. The Old Hall was not ready, indeed, nor would it befor some time; but Peter had furnished certain rooms in it which mightserve them for the summer season, and by winter time the house would befinished and open. 

Castell was busy also, for now, having worked very hard at the task, hisship the _Margaret_ was almost refitted and laden, so that he hoped toget her to sea on this same May 31st, and thus be clear of the last ofhis business, except the handing over of his warehouses and stock tothose who had bought them. These great affairs kept him much atGravesend, where the ship lay, but, as he had no dread of furthertrouble now that d'Aguilar and the other Spaniards, among them that bandof de Ayala's servants who had vowed to take Peter's life, were gone, this did not disturb him. 

Oh! happy, happy was Margaret during those sweet spring days, when herheart was bright and clear as the skies from which all winter storms hadpassed. So happy was she indeed, and so full of a hundred joyful cares, that she found no time to take note of her cousin Betty, who worked withher at her wedding broideries, and helped to make preparations for thejourney which should follow after. Had she done so, she might have seenthat Betty was anxious and distressed, like one who waited for sometidings that did not come, and from hour to hour fought against anguishand despair But she took no note, whose heart was too full of her ownmatters, and who did but count the hours till she should see her loverback and pass to his arms, a wife. 

Thus the time went on until the appointed day of Peter's return, themorrow of her marriage, for which all things were now prepared, down toPeter's wedding garments, that were finer than any she had yet seen himwear, and the decking of the neighbouring church with flowers. In theearly morning her father rode away to Gravesend with the most of hismen-servants for the ship _Margaret_ was to sail at the following dawnand there was yet much to be done before she could lift anchor. Still, he had promised to be back by nightfall in time to meet Peter who, leaving Dedham that morning, could not reach them before then. 

At length it was past four of the afternoon, and everything beingfinished, Margaret went to her room to dress herself anew, that shemight look fine in Peter's eyes when he should come. Betty she did nottake with her, for there were things to which her cousin must attend;moreover, her heart was so full that she wished to be alone a while. 

Betty's heart was full also, but not with joy. She had been deceived. The fine Spanish Don, who had made her love him so desperately, hadsailed away and left her without a word. She could not doubt it, he hadbeen seen standing on the ship--and not one word. It was cruel, cruel, and now she must help another woman to be made a happy wife, she who wasbeggared of hope and love. Moodily, full of bitterness, she went abouther tasks, biting her lips and wiping her fine eyes with the sleeve ofher robe, when suddenly the door opened, and a servant, not one oftheir own, but a strange man who had been brought in to help at themorrow's feast, called out that a sailor wished to speak with her. 

"Then let him enter here; I have no time to go out to listen to histalk, " snapped Betty. 

Presently the sailor was shown in, the man who brought him leaving theroom at once. He was a dark fellow, with sly black eyes, who, had he notspoken English so well, might have been taken for a Spaniard. 

"Who are you, and what is your business?" asked Betty sharply. 

"I am the carpenter of the ship _Margaret_, " he answered, "and I am hereto say that our master Castell has met with an accident there, anddesires that Mistress Margaret, his daughter, should come to himat once. "

"What accident?" asked Betty. 

"In seeing to the stowage of cargo he slipped and fell down the hold, hurting his back and breaking his right arm, and that is why he cannotwrite. He is in great pain; but the physician whom we summoned bade metell Mistress Margaret that at present he has no fear for his life. Areyou Mistress Margaret?"

"No, " answered Betty; "but I will go to her at once; do you bide here. "

"Then are you her cousin, Mistress Betty Dene, for if so I havesomething for you?"

"I am. What is it?"

"This, " said the man, drawing out a letter which he handed to her. 

"Who gave you this?" asked Betty suspiciously. "I do not know hisname, but he was a noble-looking Spanish Don, and a liberal one too. Hehad heard of the accident on the _Margaret_, and, knowing my errand, asked me if I would deliver this letter to you, for the fee of a goldducat, and promise to say nothing of it to any one else. "

"Some rude gallant, doubtless, " said Betty, tossing her head; "they areever writing to me. Bide here; I go to Mistress Margaret. "

Once she was outside the door Betty broke the seal of the letter eagerlyenough, for she had been taught with Margaret, and could read well. It ran:

 "BELOVED, "You thought me faithless and gone, but it is not so. I was silent only because I knew you could not come alone who are watched; but now the God of Love gives us our chance. Doubtless your cousin will bring you with her to visit her father, who lies on his ship sadly hurt. While she is with him I have made a plan to rescue you, and then we can be wed and sail at once--yes, to-night or to-morrow, for with much trouble, knowing that you wished it, I have even succeeded in bringing that about, and a priest will be waiting to marry us. Be silent, and show no doubt or fear, whatever happens, lest we should be parted for always. Be sure then that your cousin comes that you may accompany her. Remember that your true love waits you. 

 "C. D'A. "

When Betty had mastered the contents of this amorous effusion she wentpale with joy, and turned so faint that she was like to fall. Then adoubt struck her that it might be some trick. No, she knew thewriting--it was d'Aguilar's, and he was true to her, and would marry heras he had promised, and take her to be a great lady in Spain. If shehesitated now she might lose him for ever--him whom she would follow tothe end of the world. In an instant her mind was made up, for Betty hadplenty of courage. She would go, even though she must desert the cousinwhom she loved. 

Thrusting the letter into her bosom she ran to Margaret's room, and, bursting into it, told her of the man and his sad message. But of thatletter she said nothing. Margaret turned white at the news, then, recovering herself, said:

"I will come and speak with him at once. " And together they went downthe stairs. 

To Margaret the sailor repeated his story, nor could all her questionsshake it. He told her how the mischance had happened, for he had seenit, so he said, and where her father's hurts were, adding, that althoughthe physician held that as yet he was in no danger of his life, MasterCastell thought otherwise, and did nothing but cry that his daughtershould be brought to him at once. 

Still Margaret doubted and hesitated, for she feared she knew not what. 

"Peter should be here within two hours at most, " she said to Betty. "Would it not be best to wait for him?"

"Oh! Margaret, and what if your father should die in the meanwhile?Perhaps he knows better how deep his hurts are than does this leech. Ifso, you would have a sore heart for all your life. Sure you had bettergo, or at the least I will. "

Still Margaret wavered, till the sailor said:

"Lady, if it is your will to come, I can guide you to where a boat waitsto take you across the river. If not, I must be gone, for the ship sailswith the moonrise, and they only wait your coming to carry the master, your father, to the warehouse on shore thinking it best that you shouldbe present. If you do not come, this will be done as gently as possible, and there you must seek him to-morrow, alive or dead. " And the man tookup his cap as though to leave. 

"I will come with you, " said Margaret. "Betty you are right; order thetwo horses to be saddled mine and the groom's, with a pillion on whichyou can ride, for I will not send you or go alone, understand that thissailor has his own horse. "

The man nodded, and accompanied Betty to the stable. Then Margaret tookpen and wrote hastily to Peter, telling him of their evil chance, andbidding him follow her at once to the ship, or, if it had sailed to thewarehouse. "I am loth to go, " she added "alone with a girl and a strangeman, yet I must since my heart is torn with fear for my beloved father. Sweetheart, follow me quickly. "

This done, she gave the letter to that servant who had shown in thesailor, bidding him hand it, without fail, to Master Peter Brome when hecame, which the man promised to do. 

Then she fetched plain dark cloaks for herself and Betty, with hoods tothem, that their faces might not be seen, and presently theywere mounted. 

"Stay!" said Margaret to the sailor as they were about to start. "Howcomes it that my father did not send one of his own men instead of you, and why did none write to me?"

The man looked surprised; he was a very good actor. 

"His people were tending him, " he said, "and he bade me to go because Iknew the way, and had a good, hired horse ashore which I have used whenriding with messages to London about new timbers and other matters. Asfor writing, the physician began a letter, but he was so slow and longthat Master Castell ordered me to be off without it. It seems, " the manadded, addressing Betty with some irritation, "that Mistress Margaretmisdoubts me. If so, let her find some other guide, or bide at home. Itis naught to me, who have only done as I was bidden. "

Thus did this cunning fellow persuade Margaret that her fears werenothing, though, remembering the letter from d'Aguilar, Betty wassomewhat troubled. The thing had a strange look, but, poor, vain fool, she thought to herself that, even if there were some trick, it wascertainly arranged only that she might seem to be taken, who could notcome alone. In truth she was blind and mad, and cared not what she did, though, let this be said for her, she never dreamed that any harm wasmeant towards her cousin Margaret, or that a lie had been told as toMaster Castell and his hurts. 

Soon they were out of London, and riding swiftly by the road thatfollowed the north bank of the river, for their guide did not take themover the bridge, as he said the ship was lying in mid-stream and thatthe boat would be waiting on the Tilbury shore. But there was more thantwenty miles to travel, and, push on as they would, night had fallen ereever they came there. At length, when they were weary of the dark andthe rough road, the sailor pulled up at a spot upon the river'sbrink--where there was a little wharf, but no houses that they couldsee--saying that this was the place. Dismounting, he gave his horse tothe groom to hold, and, going to the wharf, asked in a loud voice if theboat from the _Margaret_ was there, to which a voice answered, "Aye. "Then he talked for a minute to those in the boat, though what he saidthey could not hear, and ran back again, bidding them dismount, andadding that they had done well to come, as Master Castell was muchworse, and did nothing but cry for his daughter. 

The groom he told to lead the horses a little way along the bank till hefound an inn that stood there, where he must await their return orfurther orders, and to Betty he suggested that she should go with him, as there was but little place left in the boat. This she was willingenough to do, thinking it all part of the plan for her carrying off; butMargaret would have none of it, saying that unless her cousin came withher she would not stir another step. So grumbling a little the sailorgave way, and hurried them both to some wooden steps and down these intoa boat, of which they could but dimly see the outline. 

So soon as ever they were seated side by side in the stern it was pushedoff, and rowed away rapidly into the darkness, while one of the sailorslit a lantern which he fastened to the bow, and far out on the river, asthough in answer to the signal, another star of light appeared, towardswhich they headed. Now Margaret, speaking through the gloom, asked therowers of her father's state; but the sailor, their guide, prayed hernot to trouble them, as the tide ran very swiftly and they must give alltheir mind to their business lest they should overset. So she wassilent, and, racked with doubts and fears, watched that star of lightgrowing ever nearer, till at length it hung above them. 

"Is that the ship _Margaret_?" cried their guide, and again a voiceanswered "Aye. "

"Then tell Master Castell that his daughter has come at last, " heshouted again, and in another minute a rope had been thrown to them, andthey were fast alongside a ladder on to which Betty, who was nearest toit, was pushed the first, except for their guide, who had run up thewooden steps very swiftly. 

Betty, who was active and strong, followed him, Margaret coming next. Asshe reached the deck Betty thought she heard a voice say in Spanish, ofwhich she understood something, "Fool! Why have you brought both?" butthe answer she could not catch. Then she turned and gave her hand toMargaret, and together they walked forward to the foot of the mast. 

"Lead me to my father, " said Margaret. 

Whereon the guide answered:

"Yes, this way, Mistress, but come alone, for the sight of two of you atonce may disturb him. "

"Nay, " she answered, "my cousin comes with me. " And she took Betty'shand and clung to it. 

Shrugging his shoulders the sailor led them forwards, and as they wentshe noted that men were hauling on a sail, while other men, who sang astrange, wild song, worked on what seemed to be a windlass. Now theyreached a cabin, and entered it, the door being shut behind them. In thecabin a man sat at a table with a lamp hanging over his head. He roseand turned towards them, bowing, and Margaret saw that itwas--_d'Aguilar_!

Betty stood silent; she had expected to meet him, though not here andthus. Her foolish heart bounded so at the sight of him that she seemedto choke, and could only wonder dimly what mistake had been made, andhow he would explain to Margaret and get her away, leaving herself andhim together to be married. Indeed, she searched the cabin with her eyesto see where the priest was waiting, then noting a door beyond, thoughtthat doubtless he must be hidden there. As for Margaret, she uttered alittle stifled cry, then, being a brave woman, one of that high naturewhich grows strong in the face of trouble, straightened herself to herfull height and said in a low, fierce voice:

"What do you here? Where is my father?"

"Seņora, " he answered humbly, "I am on board my ship, the _San Antonio_, and as for your father, he is either on his ship, the _Margaret_, ormore likely, by now, at his house in Holborn. "

At these words Margaret reeled back till the wall of the cabin stayedher, and there she rested. 

"Spare me your reproaches, " went on d'Aguilar hurriedly. "I will tellyou all the truth. First, be not anxious as to your father; no accidenthas happened to him; he is sound and well. Forgive me if you havesuffered pain and doubt; but there was no other way. That tale was onlyone of love's snares and tricks----" He paused, overcome, fascinated byMargaret's face, which of a sudden had grown awful--that of a goddess ofvengeance, of a Medusa, which seemed to chill his blood to ice. 

"A snare! A trick!" she muttered hoarsely, while her eyes flamed on himlike burning stars. "Thus then I pay you for your tricks. " And in aninstant he became aware that she had snatched a dagger from her bosomand was springing on him. 

He could not move; those fearful eyes held him fast. In another momentthat steel would have pierced his heart. But Betty had seen also, and, thrusting her strong arms about Margaret, held her back, crying:

"Listen, you do not understand. It is I he wants--not you; I whom heloves, and who love him, and am about to marry him. You he will sendback home. "

"Loose me, " said Margaret, in such a voice that Betty's arms fell fromher, and she stood there, the dagger still in her hand. "Now, " she saidto d'Aguilar, "the truth, and be swift with it. What means this woman?"

"She knows best, " answered d'Aguilar uneasily. "It has pleased her towrap herself in this web of conceits. "

"Which it has pleased you to spin, perchance. Speak, girl!"

"He made love to me, " gasped Betty; "and I love him. He promised tomarry me. He sent me a letter but to-day--here it is, " and she drewit out. 

"Read, " said Margaret; and Betty read. 

"So _you_ have betrayed me, " said Margaret, "you, my cousin, whom I havesheltered and cherished. "

"No, " cried Betty. "I never thought to betray you; sooner would I havedied. I believed that your father was hurt, and that while you werevisiting him that man would take me. "

"What have you to say?" asked Margaret of d'Aguilar in the same dreadfulvoice. "You offered your accursed love to me--and to her, and you havesnared us both. Man, what have you to say?"

"Only this", he answered, trying to look brave, "that woman is a fool, whose vanity I played on that I might make use of her to keep nearto you. "

"Do you hear, Betty? do you hear?" cried Margaret with a terrible littlelaugh; but Betty only groaned as though she were dying. 

"I love you, and you only, " went on d'Aguilar "As for your cousin, Iwill send her ashore. I have committed this sin because I could not helpmyself. The thought that you were to be married to another man to-morrowdrove me mad, and I dared all to take you from his arms, even though youshould never come to mine. Did I not swear to you, " he said with anattempt at his old gallantry, "that your image should accompany me toSpain, whither we are sailing now?" And as he spoke the words the shiplurched a little in the wind. 

Margaret made no answer, only toyed with the dagger blade, and watchedhim with eyes that glittered more coldly than its steel. 

"Kill me, if you will, and have done, " he went on in a voice that wasdesperate with love and shame. "So shall I be rid of all this torment. "

Then Margaret seemed to awake, for she spoke to him in a new voice--ameasured, frozen voice. "No, " she answered, "I will not stain my handseven with your blood, for why should I rob God of His own vengeance? Ifyou attempt to touch me, or even to separate me from this poor womanwhom you have fooled, then I will kill--not you, but myself, and I swearto you that my ghost shall accompany you to Spain, and from Spain downto the hell that awaits you. Listen, Carlos d'Aguilar, Marquis ofMorella, this I know about you, that you believe in God and hear Hisanger. Well, I call down upon you the vengeance of Almighty God. I seeit hang above your head. I say that it shall fall upon you, waking andsleeping, loving and hating, in life and in death to all eternity. Doyour worst, for you shall do it all in vain. Whether I die or whether Ilive, every pang that you cause me to suffer, every misery that you havebrought, or shall bring, upon the head of my betrothed, my father, andthis woman, shall be repaid to you a millionfold in this world and thenext. Now do you still wish that I should accompany you to Spain, orwill you let me go?"

"I cannot, " he answered hoarsely; "it is too late. "

"So be it, I will accompany you to Spain, I and Betty Dene, and thevengeance of Almighty God that hovers over you. Of this at least besure--I hate you, I despise you, but I fear you not at all. Go. " Thend'Aguilar stumbled from that cabin, and the two women heard the doorbolted behind him. 

CHAPTER X

THE CHASE

About the time that Margaret and Betty were being rowed aboard the _SanAntonio_, Peter Brome and his servants, who had been delayed an hour ormore by the muddy state of the roads, pulled rein at the door of thehouse in Holborn. For over a month he had been dreaming of this momentof return, as a man does who expects such a welcome as he knew awaitedhim, and who on the morrow was to be wed to a lovely and beloved bride. He had thought how Margaret would be watching at the window, how, spyinghim advancing down the street, she would speed to the door, how he wouldleap from his horse and take her to his arms in front of every one ifneed be--for why should they be ashamed who were to be wed uponthe morrow?

But there was no Margaret at the window, or at any rate he could not seeher, for it was dark. There was not even a light; indeed the whole faceof the old house seemed to frown at him through the gloom. Still, Peterplayed his part according to the plan; that is, he leapt from his horse, ran to the door and tried to enter, but could not for it was locked, sohe hammered on it with the handle of his sword, till at length some onecame and unbolted. It was the hired man with whom Margaret had left theletter, and he held a lantern in his hand. 

The sight of him frightened Peter, striking a chill to his heart. 

"Who are you?" he asked; then, without waiting for an answer, went on, "Where are Master Castell and Mistress Margaret?"

The man answered that the master was not yet back from his ship, andthat the Lady Margaret had gone out nearly three hours before with hercousin Betty and a sailor--all of them on horseback. 

"She must have ridden to meet me, and missed us in the dark, " said Peteraloud, whereon the man asked whether he spoke to Master Brome, since, ifso, he had a letter for him. 

"Yes, " answered Peter, and snatched it from his hand, bidding him closethe door and hold up the lantern while he read, for he could see thatthe writing was that of Margaret. 

"A strange story, " he muttered, as he finished it. "Well, I must away, "and he turned to the door again. 

As he stretched out his hand to the key, it opened, and through it cameCastell, as sound as ever he had been. 

"Welcome, Peter!" he cried in a jolly voice. "I knew you were here, forI saw the horses; but why are you not with Margaret?"

"Because Margaret has gone to be with you, who should be hurt almost todeath, or so says this letter. "

"To be with me--hurt to the death! Give it me--nay, read it, I cannotsee. "

So Peter read. 

"I scent a plot, " said Castell in a strained voice as he finished, "andI think that hound of a Spaniard is at the bottom of it, or Betty, orboth. Here, you fellow, tell us what you know, and be swift if you wouldkeep a sound skin. "

"That would I, why not?" answered the man, and told all the tale of thecoming of the sailor. 

"Go, bid the men bring back the horses, all of them, " said Castellalmost before he had done; "and, Peter, look not so dazed, but come, drink a cup of wine. We shall need it, both of us, before this night isover. What! is there never a fellow of all my servants in the house?" Sohe shouted till his folk, who had returned with him from the ship, camerunning from the kitchen. 

He bade them bring food and liquor, and while they gulped down the wine, for they could not eat, Castell told how their Mistress Margaret hadbeen tricked away, and must be followed. Then, hearing the horses beingled back from the stables, they ran to the door and mounted, and, followed by their men, a dozen or more of them, in all, galloped offinto the darkness, taking another road for Tilbury, that by whichMargaret went, not because they were sure of this, but because it wasthe shortest. 

But the horses were tired, and the night was dark and rainy, so it cameabout that the clock of some church struck three of the morning beforeever they drew near to Tilbury. Now they were passing the little quaywhere Margaret and Betty had entered the boat, Castell and Peter ridingside by side ahead of the others in stern silence, for they had nothingto say, when a familiar voice hailed them--that of Thomas the groom. 

"I saw your horses' heads against the sky, " he explained, "and knewthem. "

"Where is your mistress?" they asked both in a breath. 

"Gone, gone with Betty Dene in a boat, from this quay, to be rowed tothe _Margaret_, or so I thought. Having stabled the horses as I wasbidden, I came back here to await them. But that was hours ago, and Ihave seen no soul, and heard nothing except the wind and the water, tillI heard the galloping of your horses. "

"On to Tilbury, and get boats, " said Castell. "We must catch the_Margaret_ ere she sails at dawn. Perhaps the women are aboard of her. "

"If so, I think Spaniards took them there, for I am sure they were notEnglish in that craft, " said Thomas, as he ran by the side of Castell'shorse, holding to the stirrup leather. 

His master made no answer, only Peter groaned aloud, for he too was surethat they were Spaniards. 

An hour later, just as the dawn broke, they with their men climbed tothe deck of the _Margaret_ while she was hauling up her anchor. A fewwords with her captain, Jacob Smith, told them the worst. No boat hadleft the ship, no Margaret had come aboard her. But some six hoursbefore they had watched the Spanish vessel, _San Antonio_, that had beenberthed above them, pass down the river. Moreover, two watermen in askiff, who brought them fresh meat, had told them that while they weredelivering three sheep and some fowls to the _San Antonio_, just beforeshe sailed, they had seen two tall women helped up her ladder, andheard one of them say in English, "Lead me to my father. "

Now they knew all the awful truth, and stared at each other like dumbmen. 

It was Peter who found his tongue the first, and said slowly:

"I must away to Spain to find my bride, if she still lives, and to killthat fox. Get you home, Master Castell. "

"My home is where my daughter is, " answered Castell fiercely. "I goa-sailing also. "

"There is danger for you in that land of Spaniards, if ever we getyonder, " said Peter meaningly. 

"If it were the mouth of hell, still I would go, " replied Castell. "Whyshould I not who seek a devil?"

"That we do both, " said Peter, and stretching out his hand he took thatof Castell. It was the pledge of the father and the lover to follow herwho was all to them, till death stayed their quest. 

Castell thought a little while, then gave orders that all the crewshould be called together on deck in the waist of the ship, which was acarack of about two hundred tons burden, round fashioned, and sittingdeep in the water, but very strongly built of oak, and a swift sailer. When they were gathered, and with them the officers and their ownservants, accompanied by Peter, he went and addressed them just as thesun was rising. In few and earnest words he told them of the greatoutrage that had been done, and how it was his purpose and that of PeterBrome who had been wickedly robbed of the maid who this day should havebecome his wife, to follow the thieves across the sea to Spain, in thehope that by the help of God, they might rescue Margaret and Betty. Headded that he knew well this was a service of danger, since it mightchance that there would be fighting, and he was loth to ask any man torisk life or limb against his will, especially as they came out to tradeand not to fight. Still, to those who chose to accompany them, shouldthey win through safely, he promised double wage, and a present chargedupon his estate, and would give them writings to that effect. As forthose who did not, they could leave the ship now before she sailed. 

When he had finished, the sailormen, of whom there were about thirty, with the stout-hearted captain, Jacob Smith, a sturdy-built man of fiftyyears of age, at the head of them, conferred together, and at last, withone exception--that of a young new-married man, whose heart failedhim--they accepted the offer, swearing that they would see the thingthrough to the end, were it good or ill, for they were all Englishmen, and no lovers of the Spaniards. Moreover, so bitter a wrong stirredtheir blood. Indeed, although for the most part they were not sailors, six of the twelve men who had ridden with them from London prayed thatthey might come too, for the love they had to Margaret, their master, and Peter; and they took them. The other six they sent ashore again, bearing letters to Castell's friends, agents, and reeves, as to thetransfer of his business and the care of his lands, houses, and otherproperties during his absence. Also, they took a short will duly signedby Castell and witnessed, wherein he left all his goods of whateversort that remained unsettled or undevised, to Margaret and Peter, orthe survivor of them, or their heirs, or failing these, for the purposeof founding a hospital for the poor. Then these men bade them farewelland departed, very heavy at heart, just as the anchor was hauled home, and the sails began to draw in the stiff morning breeze. 

About ten o'clock they rounded the Nore bank safely, and here spoke afishing-boat, who told them that more than six hours before they hadseen the _San Antonio_ sail past them down Channel, and noted two womenstanding on her deck, holding each other's hands and gazing shorewards. Then, knowing that there was no mistake, there being nothing more thatthey could do, worn out with grief and journeying, they ate some foodand went to their cabin to sleep. 

As he laid him down Peter remembered that at this very hour he shouldhave been in church taking Margaret as his bride--Margaret, who was nowin the power of the Spaniard--and swore a great and bitter oath thatd'Aguilar should pay him back for all this shame and agony. Indeed, could his enemy have seen the look on Peter's face he might well havebeen afraid, for this Peter was an ill man to cross, and had noforgiving heart; also, his wrong was deep. 

For four days the wind held, and they ran down Channel before it, hopingto catch sight of the Spaniard; but the _San Antonio_ was a swiftcaravel of 250 tons with much canvas, for she carried four masts, andalthough the _Margaret_ was also a good sailer, she had but two masts, and could not come up with her. Or, for anything they knew, they mighthave missed her on the seas. On the afternoon of the fourth day, whenthey were off the Lizard, and creeping along very slowly under a lightbreeze, the look-out man reported a ship lying becalmed ahead. Peter, who had the eyes of a hawk, climbed up the mast to look at her, andpresently called down that he believed from her shape and rig she mustbe the caravel, though of this he could not be sure as he had never seenher. Then the captain, Smith, went up also, and a few minutes laterreturned saying that without doubt it was the _San Antonio. _

Now there was a great and joyful stir on board the _Margaret_, every manseeing to his sword and their long or cross bows, of which there wereplenty, although they had no bombards or cannon, that as yet were rareon merchant ships. Their plan was to run alongside the _San Antonio_ andboard her, for thus they hoped to recover Margaret. As for the anger ofthe king, which might well fall on them for this deed, since he wouldthink little of the stealing of a pair of Englishwomen, of that theymust take their chance. 

Within half an hour everything was ready, and Peter, pacing to and fro, looked happier than he had done since he rode away to Dedham. The lightbreeze still held, although, if it reached the _San Antonio_, it did notseem to move her, and, with the help of it, by degrees they came towithin half a mile of the caravel. Then the wind dropped altogether, andthere the two ships lay. Still the set of the tide, or some current, seemed to be drawing them towards each other, so that when the nightclosed in they were not more than four hundred paces apart, and theEnglishmen had great hopes that before morning they would close, and beable to board by the light of the moon. 

But this was not to be, since about nine o'clock thick clouds rose upwhich covered the heavens, while with the clouds came strong windsblowing off the land, and, when at length the dawn broke, all they couldsee of the _San Antonio_ was her topmasts as she rose upon the seas, flying southwards swiftly. This, indeed, was the last sight they had ofher for two long weeks. 

From Ushant all across the Bay the airs were very light and variable, but when at length they came off Finisterre a gale sprang up from thenorth-east which drove them forward very fast. It was on the secondnight of this gale, as the sun set, that, running out of some mist andrain, suddenly they saw the _San Antonio_ not a mile away, and rejoiced, for now they knew that she had not made for any port in the north ofSpain, as, although she was bound for Cadiz, they feared she might havedone to trick them. Then the rain came on again, and they saw herno more. 

All down the coast of Portugal the weather grew more heavy day by day, and when they reached St. Vincent's Cape and bore round for Cadiz, itblew a great gale. Now it was that for the third time they viewed the_San Antonio_ labouring ahead of them, nor, except at night, did theylose sight of her any more until the end of that voyage. Indeed, on thenext day they nearly came up with her, for she tried to beat in toCadiz, but, losing one of her masts in a fierce squall, and seeing thatthe _Margaret_, which sailed better in this tempest, would soon beaboard of her, abandoned her plan, and ran for the Straits of Gibraltar. 

Past Tarifa Point they went, having the coast of Africa on theirright; past the bay of Algegiras, where the _San Antonio_ did not try toharbour; past Gibraltar's grey old rock, where the signal fires wereburning, and so at nightfall, with not a mile between them, out into theMediterranean Sea. 

Here the gale was furious, so that they could scarcely carry a rag ofcanvas, and before morning lost one of their topmasts. It was an anxiousnight, for they knew not if they would live through it; moreover, thehearts of Castell and of Peter were torn with fear lest the Spaniardshould founder and take Margaret with her to the bottom of the sea. Whenat length the wild, stormy dawn broke, however, they saw her, apparentlyin an evil case, labouring away upon their starboard bow, and by nooncame to within a furlong of her, so that they could see the sailorscrawling about on her high poop and stern. Yes, and they saw more thanthis, for presently two women ran from some cabin waving a white clothto them; then were hustled back, whereby they learned that Margaret andBetty still lived and knew that they followed, and thanked God. Presently, also, there was a flash, and, before ever they heard thereport, a great iron bullet fell upon their decks and, rebounding, struck a sailor, who stood by Peter, on the breast, and dashed him awayinto the sea. The _San Antonio_ had fired the bombard which she carried, but as no more shots came they judged that the cannon had broke itslashings or burst. 

A while after the _San Antonio_, two of whose masts were gone, tried toput about and run for Malaga, which they could see far away beneath thesnow-capped mountains of the Sierra. But this the Spaniard could notdo, for while she hung in the wind the _Margaret_ came right atop ofher, and as her men laboured at the sails, every one of the Englishmenwho could be spared, under the command of Peter, let loose on them withtheir long shafts and crossbows, and, though the heaving deck of the_Margaret_ was no good platform, and the wind bent the arrows from theirline, they killed and wounded eight or ten of them, causing them toloose the ropes so that the _San Antonio_ swung round into the galeagain. On the high tower of the caravel, his arm round the sternmostmast, stood d'Aguilar, shouting commands to his crew. Peter fitted anarrow to his string and, waiting until the _Margaret_ was poised for amoment on the crest of a great sea, aimed and loosed, making allowancefor the wind. 

True to line sped that shaft of his, yet, alas! a span too high, forwhen a moment later d'Aguilar leapt from the mast, the arrow quivered inits wood, and pinned to it was the velvet cap he wore. Peter ground histeeth in rage and disappointment; almost he could have wept, for thevessels swung apart again, and his chance was gone. 

"Five times out of seven, " he said bitterly, "can I send a shaftthrough a bull's ring at fifty paces to win a village badge, and now Icannot hit a man to save my love from shame. Surely God hasforsaken me!"

Through all that afternoon they held on, shooting with their bowswhenever a Spaniard showed himself, and being shot at in return, thoughlittle damage was done to either side. But this they noted--that the_San Antonio_ had sprung a leak in the gale, for she was sinking deeperin the water. The Spaniards knew it also, and, being aware that theymust either run ashore or founder, for the second time put about, and, under the rain of English arrows, came right across the bows of the_Margaret_, heading for the little bay of Calahonda, that is the port ofMotril, for here the shore was not much more than a league away. 

"Now, " said Jacob Smith, the captain of the _Margaret_, who stood underthe shelter of the bulwarks with Castell and Peter, "up that bay lies aSpanish town. I know it, for I have anchored there, and if once the _SanAntonio_ reaches it, good-bye to our lady, for they will take her toGranada, not thirty miles away across the mountains, where this Marquisof Morella is a mighty man, for there is his palace. Say then, master, what shall we do? In five more minutes the Spaniard will be across ourbows again. Shall we run her down, which will be easy, and take ourchance of picking up the women, or shall we let them be taken captive toGranada and give up the chase?"

"Never, " said Peter. "There is another thing that we can do--follow theminto the bay, and attack them there on shore. "

"To find ourselves among hundreds of the Spaniards, and have our throatscut, " answered Smith, the captain, coolly. 

"If we ran them down, " asked Castell, who had been thinking deeply allthis while, "should we not sink also?"

"It might be so, " answered Smith; "but we are built of English oak, andvery stout forward, and I think not. But she would sink at once, beingnear to it already, and the odds are that the women are locked in thecabin or between decks out of reach of the arrows, and must gowith her. "

"There is another plan, " said Peter sternly, "and that is to grapplewith her and board her, and this I will do. "

The captain, a stout man with a flat face that never changed, lifted hiseyebrows, which was his only way of showing surprise. 

"What!" he said. "In this sea? I have fought in some wars, but neverhave I known such a thing. "

"Then, friend, you shall know it now, if I can but find a dozen men tofollow me, " answered Peter with a savage laugh. "What? Shall I see mymistress carried off before my eyes and strike no blow to save her?Rather will I trust in God and do it, and if I die, then die I must, asa man should. There is no other way. "

Then he turned and called in a loud voice to those who stood around orloosed arrows at the Spaniard:

"Who will come with me aboard yonder ship? Those who live shall spendtheir days in ease thereafter, that I promise, and those who fall willwin great fame and Heaven's glory. "

The crew looked at the waves running hill high, and the water-loggedSpaniard labouring in the trough of them as she came round slowly in awide circle, very doubtfully, as well they might, and made no answer. Then Peter spoke again. 

"There is no choice, " he said. "If we give that ship our stem we cansink her, but then how will the women be saved? If we leave her alone, mayhap she will founder, and then how will the women be saved? Or shemay win ashore, and they will be carried away to Granada, and how can wesnatch them out of the hand of the Moors or of the power of Spain? Butif we can take the ship, we may rescue them before they go down or reachland. Will none back me at this inch?"

"Aye, son, " said old Castell, "I will. "

Peter stared at him in surprise. "You--at your years!" he said. 

"Yes, at my years. Why not? I have the fewer to risk. "

Then, as though he were ashamed of his doubts, one brawny sailormanstepped forward and said that he was ready for a cut at the Spanishthieves in foul weather as in fair. Next all Castell's householdservants came out in a body for love of him and Peter and their lady, and after them more sailors, till nearly half of those aboard, somethingover twenty in all, declared that they were ready for the venture, wherein Peter cried, "Enough. " Smith would have come also; but Castellsaid No, he must stop with the ship. 

Then, while the carack's head was laid so as to cut the path of the _SanAntonio_ circling round them slowly like a wounded swan, and theboarders made ready their swords and knives, for here archery would notavail them, Castell gave some orders to the captain. He bade him, ifthey were cut down or taken, to put about and run for Seville, and theredeliver over the ship and her cargo to his partners and correspondents, praying them in his name to do their best by means of gold, for whichthe sale value of the vessel and her goods should be chargeable, orotherwise, to procure the release of Margaret and Betty, if they stilllived, and to bring d'Aguilar, the Marquis of Morella, to account forhis crime. This done, he called to one of his servants to buckle on hima light steel breastplate from the ship's stores. But Peter would wearno iron because it was too heavy, only an archer's jerkin of bull-hide, stout enough to turn a sword-cut, such as the other boarders put on alsowith steel caps, of both of which they had a plenty in the cabin. 

Now the _San Antonio_, having come round, was steering for the mouth ofthe bay in such fashion that she would pass them within fifty yards. Hoisting a small sail to give his ship way, the captain, Smith, took thehelm of the _Margaret_ and steered straight at her so as to cut herpath, while the boarders, headed by Peter and Castell, gathered near thebowsprit, lay down there under shelter of the bulwarks, and waited. 

CHAPTER XI

THE MEETING ON THE SEA

For another minute or more the _San Antonio_ held on until she divinedthe desperate purpose of her foe. Then, seeing that soon the carack'sprow must crash into her frail side, she shifted her helm and came roundseveral points, so that in the end the _Margaret_ ran, not into her, butalongside of her, grinding against her planking, and shearing away agreat length of her bulwark. For a few seconds they hung together thus, and, before the seas bore them apart, grapnels were thrown from the_Margaret_ whereof one forward got hold and brought them bow to bow. Thus the end of the bowsprit of the _Margaret_ projected over the highdeck of the _San Antonio_. 

"Now for it, " said Peter. "Follow me, all. " And springing up, he ran tothe bowsprit and began to swarm along it. 

It was a fearful task. One moment the great seas lifted him high intothe air, and the next down he came again till the massive spar crashedon to the deck of the _San Antonio_ with such a shock that he nearlyflew from it like a stone from a sling. Yet he hung on, and, biding hischance, seized a broken stay-rope that dangled from the end of thebowsprit like a lash from a whip, and began to slide down it. The galecaught him and blew him to and fro; the vessel, pitching wildly, jerkedhim into the air; the deck of the _San Antonio_ rose up and receded likea thing alive. It was near--not a dozen feet beneath him--and loosinghis hold he fell upon the forward tower without being hurt then, gaininghis feet, ran to the broken mast and flinging his left arm about it, with the other drew his sword. 

Next instant--how, he never knew--Castell was at his side, and after himcame two more men, but one of these rolled from the deck into the seaand was lost. As he vanished, the chain of the grappling iron parted, and the _Margaret_ swung away from them, leaving those three alone inthe power of their foes, nor, do what she would, could she make fastagain. As yet, however, there were no Spaniards to be seen, for thereason that none had dared to stand upon this high tower whereof thebulwarks were all gone, while the bowsprit of the _Margaret_ crasheddown upon it like a giant's club, and, as she rolled, swept it withits point. 

So there they stood, clinging to the mast and waiting for the end, fornow their friends were a hundred yards away, and they knew that theircase was desperate. A shower of arrows came, loosed from other parts ofthe ship, and one of these struck the man with them through the throat, so that he fell to the deck clasping at it, and presently rolled intothe sea also. Another pierced Castell through his right forearm, causinghis sword to drop and slide away from him. Peter seized the arrow, snapped it in two, and drew it out; but Castell's right arm was nowhelpless, and with his left he could do no more than cling to thebroken mast. 

"We have done our best, son, " he said, "and failed. Margaret will learnthat we would have saved her if we could, but we shall not meether here. "

Peter ground his teeth, and looked about him desperately, for he had nowords to say. What should he do? Leave Castell and rush for the waist ofthe ship and so perish, or stay and die there? Nay, he would not bebutchered like a bird on a bough, he would fall fighting. 

"Farewell, " he called through the gale. "God rest our souls!" Then, waiting till the ship steadied herself, he ran aft, and reaching theladder that led to her tower, staggered down it to the waist of thevessel, and at its foot halted, holding to the rail. 

The scene before him was strange enough, for there, ranged round thebulwarks, were the Spanish men, who watched him curiously, whilst a fewpaces away, resting against the mast, stood d'Aguilar, who lifted hishand, in which there was no weapon, and addressed him. 

"Seņor Brome, " he shouted, "do not move another step or you are a deadman. Listen to me first, and then do what you will. Am I safe from yoursword while I speak?"

Peter nodded his head in assent, and d'Aguilar drew nearer, for even inthat more sheltered place it was hard to hear because of the howling ofthe tempest. 

"Seņor, " he said to Peter, "you are a very brave man, and have done adeed such as none of us have seen before; therefore, I wish to spare youif I may. Also, I have worked you bitter wrong, driven to it by themight of love and jealousy, for which reason also I wish to spare you. To set upon you now would be but murder, and, whatever else I do, I willnot murder. First, let me ease your mind. Your lady and mine is aboardhere; but fear not, she has come and will come to no harm from me, orfrom any man while I live. If for no other reason, I do not desire toaffront one who, I hope, will be my wife by her own free will, and whomI have brought to Spain that she might not make this impossible bybecoming yours. Seņor, believe me, I would no more force a woman's willthan I would do murder on her lover. "

"What did you, then, when you snatched her from her home by some foultrick?" asked Peter fiercely. 

"Seņor, I did wrong to her and all of you, for which I would makeamends. "

"What amends? Will you give her back to me?"

"No, that I cannot do, even if she should wish it, of which I am notsure; no--never while I live. "

"Bring her forth, and let us hear whether she wishes it or no, " shoutedPeter, hoping that his words would reach Margaret. 

But d'Aguilar only smiled and shook his head, then went on:

"That I cannot either, for it would give her pain. Still, Seņor, I willrepay the heavy debt that I owe to you, and to you also, Seņor. " And hebowed towards Castell who, unseen by Peter, had crept down the ladder, and now stood behind him staring at d'Aguilar with cold rage andindignation. "You have wrought us much damage, have you not? hunting usacross the seas, and killing sundry of us with your arrows, and now youhave striven to board our ship and put us to the sword, a design inwhich God has frustrated you. Therefore your lives are justly forfeit, and none would blame us if we slew you. Yet I spare you both. If it ispossible I will put you back aboard the _Margaret_, and if it is notpossible you shall be set free ashore to go unmolested whither you will. Thus I will wipe out my debt and be free of all reproach. "

"Do you take me for such a man as yourself?" asked Peter, with a bitterlaugh. "I do not leave this ship alive unless my affianced wife, Mistress Margaret, goes with me. "

"Then, Seņor Brome, I fear that you will leave it dead, as indeed we mayall of us, unless we make land soon, for the vessel is filling fast withwater. Still, knowing your metal, I looked for some such words from you, and am prepared with another offer which I am sure you will not refuse. Seņor, our swords are much of the same length, shall we measure themagainst each other? I am a grandee of Spain, the Marquis of Morella, andit will, therefore, be no dishonour for you to fight with me. "

"I am not so sure, " said Peter, "for I am more than that--an honest manof England, who never practised woman-stealing. Still, I will fight yougladly, at sea or on shore, wherever and whenever we meet, till one orboth are dead. But what is the stake, and how do I know that some ofthese, " and he pointed to the crew, who were listening intently, "willnot stab me from behind?"

"Seņor, I have told you that I do not murder, and that would be thefoulest murder. As for the stake, it is Margaret to the victor. If youkill me, on behalf of all my company, I swear by our Saviour's Bloodthat you shall depart with her and her father unharmed, and if I killyou, then you both shall swear that she shall be left with me, and nosuit or question raised but to her woman I give liberty, who have seenmore than enough of her. "

"Nay, " broke in Castell, speaking for the first time "I demand the rightto fight with you also when my arm is healed. "

"I refuse it, " answered d'Aguilar haughtily. "I cannot lift my swordagainst an old man who is the father of the maid who shall be my wife, and, moreover, a merchant and a Jew. Nay, answer me not, lest all theseshould remember your ill words. I will be generous, and leave you out ofthe oath. Do your worst against me, Master Castell, and then leave me todo my worst against you. Seņor Brome, the light grows bad, and the watergains upon us. Say, are you ready?"

Peter nodded his head, and they stepped forward. 

"One more word, " said d'Aguilar, dropping his sword-point. "My friends, you have heard our compact. Do you swear to abide by it, and, if I fall, to set these two men and the two ladies free on their own ship or on theland, for the honour of chivalry and of Spain?"

The captain of the _San Antonio_ and his lieutenants answered that theyswore on behalf of all the crew. 

"You hear, Seņor Brome. Now these are the conditions--that we fight tothe death, but, if both of us should be hurt or wounded, so that wecannot despatch each other, then no further harm shall be done to eitherof us, who shall be tended till we recover or die by the will of God. "

"You mean that we must die on each other's swords or not at all, and ifany foul chance should overtake either, other than by his adversary'shand, that adversary shall not dispatch him?"

"Yes, Seņor, for in our case such things may happen, " and he pointed tothe huge seas that towered over them, threatening to engulf thewater-logged caravel. "We will take no advantage of each other, who wishto fight this quarrel out with our own right arms. "

"So be it, " said Peter, "and Master Castell here is the witness to ourbargain. "

D'Aguilar nodded, kissed the cross-hilt of his sword in confirmation ofthe pact, bowed courteously, and put himself on his defence. 

For a moment they stood facing each other, a well-matched pair--Peter, lean, fierce-faced, long-armed, a terrible man to see in the fiery lightthat broke upon him from beneath the edge of a black cloud; the Spaniardtall also, and agile, but to all appearance as unconcerned as thoughthis were but a pleasure bout, and not a duel to the death with awoman's fate hanging on the hazard. D'Aguilar wore a breastplate ofgold-inlaid black steel and a helmet, while Peter had but his tunic ofbull's hide and iron-lined cap, though his straight cut-and-thrust swordwas heavier and mayhap half an inch longer than that of his foe. 

Thus, then, they stood while Castell and all the ship's company, savethe helmsman who steered her to the harbour's mouth, clung to thebulwarks and the cordage of the mainmast, and, forgetful of their ownperil, watched in utter silence. 

It was Peter who thrust the first, straight at the throat, but d'Aguilarparried deftly, so that the sword point went past his neck, and beforeit could be drawn back again, struck at Peter. The blow fell upon theside of his steel cap, and glanced thence to his left shoulder, but, being light, did him no harm. Swiftly came the answer, which was notlight, for it fell so heavily upon d'Aguilar's breastplate, that hestaggered back. After him sprang Peter, thinking that the game was his, but at that moment the ship, which had entered the breakers of theharbour bar, rolled terribly, and sent them both reeling to thebulwarks. Nor did she cease her rolling, so that, smiting and thrustingwildly, they staggered backwards and forwards across the deck, grippingwith their left hands at anything they could find to steady them, tillat length, bruised and breathless, they fell apart unwounded, andrested awhile. 

"An ill field this to fight on, Seņor, " gasped d'Aguilar. 

"I think that it will serve our turn, " said Peter grimly, and rushed athim like a bull. It was just then that a great sea came aboard the ship, a mass of green water which struck them both and washed them like strawsinto the scuppers, where they rolled half drowned. Peter rose the first, coughing out salt water, and rubbing it from his eyes, to see d'Aguilarstill upon the deck, his sword lying beside him, and holding his rightwrist with his left hand. 

"Who gave you the hurt?" he asked, "I or your fall?"

"The fall, Seņor, " answered d'Aguilar; "I think that it has broken mywrist. But I have still my left hand. Suffer me to arise, and we willfinish this fray. "

As the words passed his lips a gust of wind, more furious than any thathad gone before, concentrated as it was through a gorge in themountains, struck the caravel at the very mouth of the harbour, and laidher over on her beam ends. For a while it seemed as though she mustcapsize and sink, till suddenly her mainmast snapped like a stick andwent overboard, when, relieved of its weight, by slow degrees sherighted herself. Down upon the deck came the cross yard, one end of itcrashing through the roof of the cabin in which Margaret and Betty wereconfined, splitting it in two, while a block attached to the other fellupon the side of Peter's head and, glancing from the steel cap, struckhim on the neck and shoulder, hurling him senseless to the deck, where, still grasping his sword, he lay with arms outstretched. 

Out of the ruin of the cabin appeared Margaret and Betty, the formervery pale and frightened, and the latter muttering prayers, but, as itchanced, both uninjured. Clinging to the tangled ropes they creptforward, seeking refuge in the waist of the ship, for the heavy sparstill worked and rolled above them, resting on the wreck of the cabinand the bulwarks, whence presently it slid into the sea. By the stump ofthe broken mainmast they halted, their long locks streaming in the gale, and here it was that Margaret caught sight of Peter lying upon his back, his face red with blood, and sliding to and fro as the vessel rolled. 

She could not speak, but in mute appeal pointed first to him and then tod'Aguilar, who stood near, remembering as she did so her vision in thehouse at Holborn, which was thus terribly fulfilled. Holding to a rope, d'Aguilar drew near to her and spoke into her ear. "Lady, " he said, "this is no deed of mine. We were fighting a fair fight, for he hadboarded the ship when the mast fell and killed him. Blame me not for hisdeath, but seek comfort from God. "

She heard, and, looking round her wildly, perceived her fatherstruggling towards her; then, with a bitter cry, fell senseless onhis breast. 

CHAPTER XII

FATHER HENRIQUES

The night came down swiftly, for a great stormcloud, in which jaggedlightning played, blotted out the last rays of the sunk sun. Then, withrolling thunder and torrents of rain, the tempest burst over the sinkingship. The mariners could no longer see to steer, they knew not whitherthey were going, only the lessened seas told them that they had enteredthe harbour mouth. Presently the _San Antonio_ struck upon a rock, andthe shock of it threw Castell, who was bending over the senseless shapeof Margaret, against the bulwarks and dazed him. 

There arose a great cry of "The vessel founders!" and water seemed to bepouring on the deck, though whether this were from the sea or from thedeluge of the falling rain he did not know. Then came another cry of"Get out the boat, or we perish!" and a sound of men working in thedarkness. The ship swung round and round and settled down. There was aflash of lightning, and by it Castell saw Betty holding the unconsciousMargaret in her strong arms. She saw him also, and screamed to him tocome to the boat. He started to obey, then remembered Peter. Peter mightnot be dead; what should he say to Margaret if he left him there todrown? He crept to where he lay upon the deck, and called to a sailorwho rushed by to help him. The man answered with a curse, and vanishedinto the deep gloom. So, unaided, Castell essayed the task of liftingthis heavy body, but his right arm being almost useless, could do nomore than drag it into a sitting posture, and thus, by slow degrees, across the deck to where he imagined the boat to be. 

But here there was no boat, and now the sound of voices came from theother side of the ship, so he must drag it back again. By the time hereached the starboard bulwarks all was silent, and another flash oflightning showed him the boat, crowded with people, upon the crest of awave, fifty yards or more from him, whilst others, who had not been ableto enter, clung to its stern and gunwale. He shouted aloud, but noanswer came, either because none were left living on the ship, orbecause in all that turmoil they could not hear him. 

Then Castell, knowing that he had done everything that he could, draggedPeter under the overhanging deck of the forward tower, which gave somelittle shelter from the rain, and, laying his bleeding head upon hisknees so that it might be lifted above the wash of the waters, sathimself down and began to say prayers after the Jewish fashion whilstawaiting his end. 

That he was about to die he had no doubt, for the waist of the ship, ashe could perceive by the lightning, was almost level with the sea, which, however, here in the harbour was now much calmer than it hadbeen. This he knew, for although the rain still fell steadily and thewind howled above, no spray broke over them. Deeper and deeper sank thecaravel as she drifted onwards, till at length the water washed over herdeck from side to side, so that Castell was obliged to seat himself onthe second step of the ladder down which Peter had charged up on theSpaniards. A while passed, and he became aware that the _San Antonio_had ceased to move, and wondered what this might mean. The storm hadrolled away now, and he could see the stars; also with it went the wind. The night grew warmer, too, which was well for him, for otherwise, wetas he was, he must have perished. Still it was a long night, the longestthat ever he had spent, nor did any sleep come to relieve his misery ormake his end easier, for the pain from the arrow wound in his arm kepthim awake. 

So there he sat, wondering if Margaret was dead, as Peter seemed to bedead, and if so, whether their spirits were watching him now, watchingand waiting till he joined them. He thought, too, of the days of hisprosperity until he had seen the accursed face of d'Aguilar, and of allthe worthless wealth that was his, and what would become of it. He hopedeven that Margaret was gone; better that she should be dead than live onin shame and misery. If there were a God, how came it that He couldallow such things to happen in the world? Then he remembered how, whenJob sat in just such an evil case, his wife had invited him to curse Godand die, and how the patriarch had answered to her, "What! shall wereceive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil?"Remembered, too, after all his troubles, what had been the end of thatjust man, and therefrom took some little comfort. After this a stuporcrept over him, and his last thought was that the vessel had sunk andhe was departing into the deeps of death. 

 * * * * *

Listen! A voice called, and Castell awoke to see that it was growinglight, and that before him supporting himself on the rail of the ladder, stood the tall form of Peter--Peter with a ghastly, blood-stainedcountenance, chattering teeth, and glazed, unnatural eyes. 

"Do you live, John Castell?" said that hollow voice, "or are we bothdead and in hell?"

"Nay, " he answered, "I live yet; we are still this side of doom. "

"What has chanced?" asked Peter. "I have been lost in a greatblackness. "

Castell told him briefly. 

Peter listened till he had done, then staggered to the bulwark rail andlooked about him, making no comment. 

"I can see nothing, " he said presently--"the mist is too deep; but Ithink we must lie near the shore. Come, help me. Let us try to findvictuals; I am faint. "

Castell rose, stretched his cramped limbs, and going to him, placed hisuninjured arm round Peter's middle, and thus supported him towards thestern of the ship, where he guessed that the main cabin would be. Theyfound and entered it, a small place, but richly furnished, with a carvedcrucifix screwed to its sternmost wall. A piece of pickled meat and someof the hard wheaten cakes such as sailors use, lay upon the floor wherethey had been cast from the table, while in a swinging rack above stoodflagons of wine and of water. Castell found a horn mug, and filling itwith wine gave it to Peter, who drank greedily, then handed it back tohim, who also drank. Afterwards they cut off portions of the meat withtheir knives, and swallowed them, though Peter did this with greatdifficulty because of the hurt to his head and neck. Then they drankmore wine, and, somewhat refreshed, left the place. 

The mist was still so thick that they could see nothing, and thereforethey went into the wreck of that cabin which had been occupied byMargaret and Betty, sat themselves down upon the bed wherein they hadslept, and waited. Resting thus, Peter noted that this cabin had beenfitted sumptuously as though for the occupation of a great lady, foreven the vessels were of silver, and in a wardrobe, whereof the doorswere open, hung beautiful gowns. Also, there were a few written books, on the outer leaves of one of which Margaret had set down some notes anda prayer of her own making, petitioning that Heaven would protect her;that Peter and her father might be living and learn the truth of whathad befallen, and that it would please the saints to deliver her, and tobring them together again. This book Peter thrust away within his jerkinto study at his leisure. 

Now the sun rose suddenly above the eastern range of the mountainswherewith they were surrounded. Leaving the cabin, they climbed to theforecastle tower and gazed about them, to find that they were in aland-locked harbour, and stranded not more than a hundred yards fromthe shore. By tying a piece of iron to a rope and letting it down intothe sea, they discovered that they lay upon a ridge, and that therewere but four feet of water beneath their bow, and, having learnedthis, determined to wade to the beach. First, however, they went back tothe cabin and filled a leather bag they found with food and wine. Then, by an afterthought, they searched for the place where d'Aguilar slept, and discovered it between decks; also a strong-box which they made shiftto break open with an iron bar. 

In it was a great store of gold, placed there, no doubt, for the paymentof the crew, and with it some jewels. The jewels they left, but themoney they divided and stowed it about them to serve their needs shouldthey come safe ashore. Then they washed each other's wounds and boundthem up, and descending the ladder which had been thrown over the ship'sside when the Spaniards escaped in the boat, let themselves down intothe sea and bade farewell to the _San Antonio_. 

By now the wind had fallen and the sun shone brightly, warming theirchilled blood; also the water, which was quite calm, did not rise muchabove their middles, so that they were able--the bottom being smooth andsandy--to wade without trouble to the shore. As they drew near to itthey saw people gathering there, and guessed that they came from thelittle town of Motril, which lay up the river that here ran into thebay. Also they saw other things--namely, the boat of the _San Antonio_upon the shore, and rejoiced to know that it had come safe to land, forit rested upon its keel with but little water in its bottom. Lying hereand there also were the corpses of drowned men, five or six of them: nodoubt those sailors who had swum after the boat or clung to itsgunwale, but among these bodies none were those of women. 

When at length they reached the shore, very few people were left there, for of the rest some had begun to wade out towards the ship to plunderher, whilst others had gone to fetch boats for the same purpose. Therefore, the company who awaited them consisted only of women, children, three old men, and a priest. The last, a hungry-eyed, smooth-faced, sly-looking man, advanced to greet them courteously, bidding them thank God for their escape. 

"That we do indeed, " said Castell; "but tell us, Father, where are ourcompanions?"

"There are some of them, " answered the priest, pointing to the deadbodies; "the rest, with the two seņoras, started two hours ago forGranada. The Marquis of Morella, from whom I hold this cure, told usthat his ship had sunk, and that no one else was left alive, and, as themist hid everything, we believed him. That is why we were not herebefore, for, " he added significantly, "we are poor folk, to whom thesaints send few wrecks. "

"How did they go to Granada, Father?" asked Castell. "On foot?"

"Nay, Seņor, they took all the horses and mules in the village by force, though the marquis promised that he would return them and pay for theirhire later, and we trusted him because we must. The ladies wept much, and prayed us to take them in and keep them; but this the marquis wouldnot allow, although they seemed so sad and weary. God send that we seeour good beasts back again, " he added piously. 

"Have you any left for us? We have a little money, and can pay for themif they be not too dear. "

"Not one, Seņor--not one; the place has been cleared even down to themares in foal. But, indeed you seem scarcely fit to ride at present, whohave undergone so much, " and he pointed to Peter's wounded head andCastell's bandaged arm. "Why do you not stay and rest awhile?"

"Because I am the father of one of the seņoras, and doubtless she thinksme drowned, and this seņor is her affianced husband, " answeredCastell briefly. 

"Ah!" said the priest, looking at them with interest, "then whatrelation to her is the marquis? Well, perhaps I had better not ask, forthis is no confessional, is it? I understand that you are anxious, forthat great grandee has the reputation of being gay--an excellent son ofthe Church, but without doubt very gay, " and he shook his shaven headand smiled. "But come up to the village, Seņors, where you can rest andhave your hurts attended to; afterwards we will talk. "

"We had best go, " said Castell in English to Peter. "There are no horseson this beach, and we cannot walk to Granada in our state. "

Peter nodded, and, led by the priest, whose name they discovered to beHenriques, they started. 

On the crest of the hill a few hundred paces away they turned and lookedback, to see that every able-bodied inhabitant of the village seemed bynow to be engaged in plundering the stranded vessel. 

"They are paying themselves for the mules and horses, " said FrayHenriques with a shrug. "So I see, " answered Castell, "but you----"and he stopped. 

"Oh, do not be afraid for me, " replied the priest with a cunning littlesmile. "The Church does not loot; but in the end the Church gets hershare. These are a pious folk. Only when he learns that the caravel didnot sink after all, I fear the marquis will demand an account of us. "

Then they limped on over the hill, and presently saw the white-walledand red-roofed village beneath them on the banks of the river. 

Five minutes later their guide stopped at a door in a roughly pavedstreet, which he opened with a key. 

"My humble dwelling, when I am in residence here, and not at Granada, "he said, "in which I shall be honoured to receive you. Look, near by isthe church. "

Then they entered a patio, or courtyard, where some orange-trees grewround a fountain of water, and a life-sized crucifix stood against thewall. As he passed this sacred emblem Peter bowed and crossed himself, an example that Castell did not follow. The priest looked athim sharply. 

"Surely, Seņor, " he said, "you should do reverence to the symbol of ourSaviour, who, by His mercy, have just been saved from the death whichthe marquis told me had overtaken both of you. "

"My right arm is hurt, " answered Castell readily, "so I must do thatreverence in my heart. "

"I understand, Seņor; but if you are a stranger to this country, whichyou do not seem to be, who speak its tongue so well, with yourpermission I will warn you that here it is wise not to confine yourreverences to the heart. Of late the directors of the Inquisition havebecome somewhat strict, and expect that the outward forms should beobserved as well. Indeed, when I was a familiar of the Holy Office atSeville, I have seen men burned for the neglect of them. You have twoarms and a head, Seņor, also a knee that can be bent. "

"Pardon me, " answered Castell to this lecture. "I was thinking of othermatters. The carrying off of my daughter at the hands of your patron, the Marquis of Morella, for instance. "

Then, making no reply, the priest led them through his sitting-room to abed-chamber with high barred windows, that, although it was large andlofty, reminded them somehow of a prison cell. Here he left them, sayingthat he would go to find the local surgeon, who, it seemed, was a barberalso, if, indeed, he were not engaged in "lightening the ship, "recommending them meanwhile to take off their wet clothes and liedown to rest. 

A woman having brought hot water and some loose garments in which towrap themselves while their own were drying, they undressed and washedand afterwards, utterly worn out, threw themselves down and fell asleepupon the beds, having first hidden away their gold in the food bag, which Peter placed beneath his pillow. Two hours later or more they wereawakened by the arrival of Father Henriques and the barber-surgeon, accompanied by the woman-servant, and who brought them back theirclothes cleaned and dried. 

When the surgeon saw Peter's hurt to the left side of his neck andshoulder, which now were black, swollen, and very stiff, he shook hishead, and said that time and rest alone could cure it, and that he musthave been born under a fortunate star to have escaped with his life, which, save for his steel cap and leather jerkin, he would never havedone. As no bones were broken, however, all that he could do was todress the parts with some soothing ointment and cover them with cleancloths. This finished, he turned to Castell's wound, that was throughthe fleshy part of the right forearm, and, having syringed it out withwarm water and oil, bound it up, saying that he would be well in a week. He added drily that the gale must have been fiercer even than hethought, since it could blow an arrow through a man's arm--a saying atwhich the priest pricked up his ears. 

To this Castell made no answer, but producing a piece of Morella's gold, offered it to him for his services, asking him at the same time toprocure them mules or horses, if he could. The barber promised to try todo so, and being well pleased with his fee, which was a great one forMotril, said that he would see them again in the evening, and if hecould hear of any beasts would tell them of it then. Also he promised tobring them some clothes and cloaks of Spanish make, since those they hadwere not fit to travel in through that country, being soiled andblood-stained. 

After he had gone, and the priest with him, who was busy seeing to thedivision of the spoils from the ship and making sure of his own share, the servant, a good soul, brought them soup, which they drank. Then theylay down again upon the beds and talked together as to what theyshould do. 

Castell was downhearted, pointing out that they were still as far fromMargaret as ever, who was now once more lost to them, and in the hand ofMorella, whence they could scarcely hope to snatch her. It would seemalso that she was being taken to the Moorish city of Granada, if shewere not already there, where Christian law and justice had no power. 

When he had heard him out, Peter, whose heart was always stout, answered:

"God has as much power in Granada as in London, or on the seas whence Hehas saved us. I think, Sir, that we have great reason to be thankful toGod, seeing that we are both alive to-day, who might so well have beendead, and that Margaret is alive also, and, as we believe, unharmed. Further, this Spanish thief of women is, it would seem, a strange man, that is, if there be any truth in his words, for although he could stealher, it appears that he cannot find it in his heart to do her violence, but is determined to win her only with her own consent, which I thinkwill not be had readily. Also, he shrinks from murder, who, when hecould have butchered us, did not do so. "

"I have known such men before, " said Castell, "who hold some sinsvenial, but others deadly to their souls. It is a fruit ofsuperstition. "

"Then, Sir, let us pray that Morella's superstitions may remain strong, and get us to Granada as quickly as we can, for there, remember, youhave friends, both among the Jews and Moors, who have traded with theplace for many years, and these may give us shelter. Therefore, thoughthings are bad, still they might be worse. "

"That is so, " answered Castell more cheerfully, "if, indeed, she hasbeen taken to Granada; and as to this, we will try to learn somethingfrom the barber or the Father Henriques. "

"I put no faith in that priest, a sly fellow who is in the pay ofMorella, " answered Peter. 

Then they were silent, being still very weary, and having nothing moreto say, but much to think about. 

About sundown the doctor came back and dressed their wounds. He broughtwith him a stock of clothes of Spanish make, hats and two heavy cloaksfit to travel in, which they bought from him at a good price. Also, hesaid that he had two fine mules in the courtyard, and Castell went outto look at them. They were sorry beasts enough, being poor and wayworn, but as no others were to be had they returned to the room to talk as tothe price of them and their saddles. The chaffering was long, for heasked twice their value, which Castell said poor shipwrecked men couldnot pay; but in the end they struck a bargain, under which the barberwas to keep and feed the mules for the night, and bring them round nextmorning with a guide who would show them the road to Granada. Meanwhile, they paid him for the clothes, but not for the beasts. 

Also they tried to learn something from him about the Marquis ofMorella, but, like the Fray Henriques, the man was cunning, and kept hismouth shut, saying that it was ill for poor men like himself to chatterof the great, and that at Granada they could hear everything. So he wentaway, leaving some medicine for them to drink, and shortly afterwardsthe priest appeared. 

He was in high good-humour, having secured those jewels which they hadleft behind in the iron coffer as his share of the spoil of the ship. Taking note of him as he showed and fondled them, Castell added up theman, and concluded that he was very avaricious; one who hated thepoverty in which he had been reared, and would do much for money. Indeed, when he spoke bitterly of the thieves who had been at the ship'sstrong-box and taken nearly all the gold, Castell determined that hemust never know who those thieves were, lest they should meet with someaccident on their journey. 

At length the trinkets were put away, and the priest said that they mustsup with him, but lamented that he had no wine to give them, who wasforced to drink water; whereon Castell prayed him to procure a fewflasks of the best at their charges, which, nothing loth, he sent hisservant out to do. 

So, dressed in their new Spanish clothes, and having all the gold hiddenabout them in two money-belts that they had bought from the barber atthe same time, they went in to supper, which consisted of a Spanish dishcalled _olla podrida_--a kind of rich stew--bread, cheese, and fruit. Also the wine that they had bought was there, very good and strong, and, whilst taking but little of it themselves for fear they should fevertheir wounds, they persuaded Father Henriques to drink heartily, so thatin the end he forgot his cunning, and spoke with freedom. Then, seeingthat he was in a ripe humour, Castell asked him about the Marquis ofMorella, and how it happened that he had a house in the Moorish capitalof Granada. 

"Because he is half a Moor, " answered the priest. "His father, it issaid, was the Prince of Viana, and his mother a lady of royal Moorishblood, from whom he inherited great wealth, and his lands and palace inGranada. There, too, he loves to dwell, who, although he is so good aChristian by faith, has many heathen tastes, and, like the Moors, surrounds himself with a seraglio of beautiful women, as I know, foroften I act as his chaplain, as in Granada there are no priests. Moreover, there is a purpose in all this, for, being partly of theirblood, he is accredited to the court of their sultan, Boabdil, byFerdinand and Isabella in whose interests he works in secret. For, strangers, you should know, if you do not know it already, that theirMajesties have for long been at war against the Moor, and purpose totake what remains of his kingdom from him, and make it Christian, asthey have already taken Malaga, and purified it by blood and fire fromthe accursed stain of infidelity. "

"Yes, " said Castell, "we heard that in England, for I am a merchant whohave dealings with Granada, whither I am going on my affairs. "

"On what affairs then goes the seņora, who you say is your daughter, andwhat is that story that the sailors told of, about a fight between the_San Antonio_ and an English ship, which indeed we saw in the offingyesterday? And why did the wind blow an arrow through your arm, friendMerchant? And how came it that you two were left aboard the caravel whenthe marquis and his people escaped?"

"You ask many questions, holy Father. Peter, fill the glass of hisreverence; he drinks nothing who thinks that it is always Lent. Yourhealth, Father. Ah! well emptied. Fill it again, Peter, and pass me theflask. Now I will begin to answer you with the story of the shipwreck. "And he commenced an endless tale of the winds and sails and rocks andmasts carried away, and of the English ship that tried to help theSpanish ship, and so forth, till at length the priest, whose glass Peterfilled whenever his head was turned, fell back in his chair asleep. 

"Now, " whispered Peter in English across the table to Castell--"now Ithink that we had best go to bed, for we have learned much from thisholy spy--as I take him to be--and told little. "

So they crept away quietly to their chamber, and, having swallowed thedraught that the doctor had given them, said their prayers each in hisown fashion, locked the door, and lay down to rest as well as theirwounds and sore anxieties would allow them. 

CHAPTER XIII

THE ADVENTURE OF THE INN

Peter did not sleep well, for, notwithstanding all the barber'sdressing, his hurt pained him much. Moreover, he was troubled by thethought that Margaret must be sure that both he and her father weredead, and of the sufferings of her sore heart. Whenever he dozed off heseemed to see her awake and weeping, yes, and to hear her sobs andmurmurings of his name. When the first light of dawn crept through thehigh-barred windows, he arose and called Castell, for they could notdress without each other's help. Then they waited until they heard thesound of men talking and of beasts stamping in the courtyard without. Guessing that this was the barber with the mules, they unlocked theirdoor and, finding the servant yawning in the passage, persuaded her tolet them out of the house. 

The barber it was, sure enough, and with him a one-eyed youth mounted ona pony, who, he said, would guide them to Granada. So they returned withhim into the house, where he looked at their wounds, shaking his headover that of Peter, who, he said, ought not to travel so soon. Afterthis came more haggling as to the price of the mules, saddlery, saddle-bags in which they packed their few spare clothes, hire of theguide and his horse, and so forth, since, anxious as they were to getaway, they did not dare to seem to have money to spare. 

At length everything was settled, and as their host, Father Henriques, had not yet appeared, they determined to depart without bidding himfarewell, leaving some money in acknowledgment of his hospitality and asa gift to his church. Whilst they were handing it over to the servant, however, together with a fee for herself, the priest joined them, unshaven, and holding his hand to his tonsured head whilst he explained, what was not true, that he had been celebrating some early Mass in thechurch; then asked whither they were going. 

They told him, and pressed their gift upon him, which he accepted, nothing loth, though its liberality seemed to make him more urgent todelay their departure. They were not fit to travel; the roads were mostunsafe; they would be taken captive by the Moors, and thrown into adungeon with the Christian prisoners; no one could enter Granada withouta passport, he declared, and so forth, to all of which they answeredthat they must go. 

Now he appeared to be much disturbed, and said finally that they wouldbring him into trouble with the Marquis of Morella--how or why, he wouldnot explain, though Peter guessed that it might be lest the marquisshould learn from them that this priest, his chaplain, had beenplundering the ship which he thought sunk, and possessing himself of hisjewels. At length, seeing that the man meant mischief and would stopthem in some fashion if they delayed, they bade him farewell hastily, and, pushing past him, mounted the mules that stood outside and rodeaway with their guide. 

As they went they heard the priest, who now was in a rage, abusing thebarber who had sold them the beasts, and caught the words "Spies, ""English seņoras, " and "Commands of the Marquis, " so that they were gladwhen at length they found themselves outside the town, where as yet fewwere stirring, and riding unmolested on the road to Granada. 

This road proved to be no good one, and very hilly; moreover, the muleswere even worse than they had thought, that which Peter rode stumblingcontinually. Now they asked the youth, their guide, how long it wouldtake them to reach Granada; but all he answered them was:

"_Quien sabe_?" (Who knows?) "It depends upon the will of God. "

An hour later they asked him again, whereon he replied:

Perhaps to-night, perhaps to-morrow, perhaps never, as there were manythieves about, and if they escaped the thieves they would probably becaptured by the Moors. 

"I think there is one thief very near to us, " said Peter in English, looking at this ill-favoured young man, then added in his brokenSpanish, "Friend, if we fall in with robbers or Moors, the first one whodies will be yourself, " and he tapped the hilt of his sword. 

The lad uttered a Spanish curse, and turned the head of his pony roundas though he would ride back to Motril, then changed his mind and pushedon a long way in front of them, nor could they come near him again forhours. So hard was the road and so feeble were the mules that, notwithstanding a midday halt to rest them, it was nightfall before theyreached the top of the Sierra, and in the last sunset glow, separatedfrom them by the rich _vega_ or plain, saw the minarets and palaces ofGranada. Now they wished to push on, but their guide swore that it wasimpossible, as in the dark they would fall over precipices whiledescending to the plain. There was a _venta_ or inn near by, he said, where they could sleep, starting again at dawn. 

When Castell said that they did not wish to go to an inn, he answeredthat they must, since they had eaten what food they had, and here onthe road there was no fodder for the beasts. So, reluctantly enough, they consented, knowing that unless they were fed the mules would nevercarry them to Granada, whereon the guide, pointing out the house tothem, a lonely place in a valley about a hundred yards from the road, said that he would go on to make arrangements, and galloped off. 

As they approached this hostelry, which was surrounded by a rough wallfor purposes of defence, they saw the one-eyed youth engaged in earnestconversation with a fat, ill-favoured man who had a great knife stuck inhis girdle. Advancing to them, bowing, this man said that he was thehost, and, in reply to their request for food and a room, told them thatthey could have both. 

They rode into the courtyard, whereon the inn-keeper locked the door inthe wall behind them, explaining that it was to keep out robbers, andadding that they were fortunate to be where they could sleep quitesafely. Then a Moor came and led away their mule to the stable, andthey accompanied the landlord into the sitting-room, a long, lowapartment furnished with tables and benches, on which sat severalrough-looking fellows, drinking wine. Here the host suddenly demandedpayment in advance, saying that he did not trust strangers. Peter wouldhave argued with him; but Castell, thinking it best to comply, unbuttoned his garments to get at his money, for he had no loose coin inhis pocket, having paid away the last at Motril. 

His right hand being still helpless, this he did with his left, and soawkwardly that the small doubloon he took hold of slipped from hisfingers and fell on to the floor. Forgetting that he had not re-fastenedthe belt, he bent down to pick it up, whereon a number of gold pieces ofvarious sorts, perhaps twenty of them, fell out and rolled hither andthither on the ground. Peter, watching, saw the landlord and the othermen in the room exchange a quick and significant glance. They rose, however, and assisted to find the money, which the host returned toCastell, remarking with an unpleasant smile, that if he had known thathis guests were so rich he would have charged them more for theiraccommodation. 

"Of your good heart I pray you not, " answered Castell, "for that is allour worldly goods, " and even as he spoke another gold piece, this time alarge doubloon, which had remained in his clothing, slipped tothe floor. 

"Of course, Seņor, " the host replied as he picked this up also andhanded it back politely, "but shake yourself, there may still be a coinor two in your doublet. " Castell did so, whereon the gold in his belt, loosened by what had fallen out, rattled audibly, and the audiencesmiled again, while the host congratulated him on the fact that he wasin an honest house, and not wandering on the mountains, which were thehome of so many bad men. 

Having pocketed his money with the best grace he could, and buckled hisbelt beneath his robe, Castell and Peter sat down at a table a littleapart, and asked if they could have some supper. The host assented, andcalled to the Moorish servant to bring food, then sat down also, andbegan to put questions to them, of a sort which showed that their guidehad already told all their story. 

"How did you learn of our shipwreck?" asked Castell by way of answer. 

"How? Why, from the people of the marquis, who stopped here to drink acup of wine when he passed to Granada yesterday with his company and twoseņoras. He said that the _San Antonio_ had sunk, but told us nothing ofyour being left aboard of her. "

"Then forgive us, friend, if we, whose business is of no interest toyou, copy his discretion, as we are weary and would rest. "

"Certainly, Seņors--certainly, " replied the man; "I go to hasten yoursupper, and to fetch you a flask of the wine of Granada worthy of yourdegree, " and he left them. 

A while later their food came--good meat enough of its sort--and with itthe wine in an earthenware jug, which, as he filled their horn mugs, thehost said he had poured out of the flask himself that the crust of itmight not slip. Castell thanked him, and asked him to drink a cup totheir good journey; but he declined, answering that it was a fast daywith him, on which he was sworn to touch only water. Now Peter, who hadsaid nothing all this time, but noted much, just touched the wine withhis lips, and smacked them as though in approbation while he whisperedin English to Castell:

"Drink it not; it is drugged!"

"What says your son?" asked the host. 

"He says that it is delicious, but suddenly he has remembered what I tooforgot, that the doctor at Motril forbade us to touch wine for fear lestwe should worsen the hurts that we had in the shipwreck. Well, let itnot be wasted. Give it to your friends. We must be content with thinnerstuff. " And taking up a jug of water that stood upon the table, hefilled an empty cup with it and drank, then passed it to Peter, whilethe host looked at them sourly. 

Then, as though by an afterthought, Castell rose and politely presentedthe jug of wine and the two filled mugs to the men who were sitting at atable close by, saying that it was a pity that they should not have thebenefit of such fine liquor. One of these fellows, as it chanced, wastheir own guide, who had come in from tending the mules. They took themugs readily enough, and two of them tossed off their contents, whereon, with a smothered oath, the landlord snatched away the jug andvanished with it. 

Castell and Peter went on with their meal, for they saw their neighbourseating of the same dish, as did the landlord also, who had returned, and, it seemed to Peter, was watching the two men who had drunk thewine with an anxious eye. Presently one of these rose from the tableand, going to a bench on the other side of the room, flung himself downupon it and became quite silent, while their one-eyed guide stretchedout his arms and fell face forward so that his head rested on an emptyplate, where he remained apparently insensible. The host sprang up andstood irresolute, and Castell, rising, said that evidently the poor ladwas sleepy after his long ride, and as they were the same, would he beso courteous as to show them to their room?

He assented readily, indeed it was clear that he wished to be rid ofthem, for the other men were staring at the guide and their companion, and muttering amongst themselves. 

"This way, Seņors, " he said, and led them to the end of the place wherea broad step-ladder stood. Going up it, a lamp in his hand, he opened atrap-door and called to them to follow him, which Castell did. Peter, however, first turned and said good-night to the company who werewatching them; at the same moment, as though by accident orthoughtlessly, half drawing his sword from its scabbard. Then he toowent up the ladder, and found himself with the others in an attic. 

It was a bare place, the only furniture in it being two chairs and tworough wooden bedsteads without heads to them, mere trestles indeed, thatstood about three feet apart against a boarded partition which appearedto divide this room from some other attic beyond. Also, there was a holein the wall immediately beneath the eaves of the house that served thepurpose of a window, over which a sack was nailed. "We are poor folk, "said the landlord as they glanced round this comfortless garret, "butmany great people have slept well here, as doubtless you will also, " andhe turned to descend the ladder. 

"It will serve, " answered Castell; "but, friend, tell your men to leavethe stable open, as we start at dawn, and be so good as to give methat lamp. "

"I cannot spare the lamp, " he grunted sulkily, with his foot already onthe first step. 

Peter strode to him and grasped his arm with one hand, while with theother he seized the lamp. The man cursed, and began to fumble at hisbelt, as though for a knife, whereon Peter, putting out his strength, twisted his arm so fiercely that in his pain he loosed the lamp, whichremained in Peter's hand. The inn-keeper made a grab at it, missed hisfooting and rolled down the ladder, falling heavily on the floor below. 

Watching from above, to their relief they saw him pick himself up, andheard him begin to revile them, shaking his fist and vowing vengeance. Then Peter shut down the trap-door. It was ill fitted, so that the edgeof it stood up above the flooring, also the bolt that fastened it hadbeen removed, although the staples in which it used to work remained. Peter looked round for some stick or piece of wood to pass through thesestaples, but could find nothing. Then he bethought him of a short lengthof cord that he had in his pocket, which served to tie one of thesaddle-bags in its place on his mule. This he fastened from one stapleto the other, so that the trap-door could not be lifted more than aninch or two. 

Reflecting that this might be done, and the cord cut with a knifepassed through the opening, he took one of the chairs and stood it sothat two of its legs rested on the edge of the trap-door and the othertwo upon the boarding of the floor. Then he said to Castell:

"We are snared birds; but they must get into the cage before they wringour necks. That wine was poisoned, and, if they can, they will murder usfor our money--or because they have been told to do so by the guide. Wehad best keep awake to-night. "

"I think so, " answered Castell anxiously. "Listen, they are talking downbelow. "

Talking they were, as though they debated something, but after a whilethe sound of voices died away. When all was silent they hunted round theattic, but could find nothing that was unusual to such places. Peterlooked at the window-hole, and, as it was large enough for a man to passthrough, tried to drag one of the beds beneath it, thinking that if anysuch attempt were made, he who lay thereon would have the thief at hismercy, only to find, however, that these were screwed to the floor andimmovable. As there was nothing more that they could do, they went andsat upon these beds, their bare swords in their hands, and waited a longwhile, but nothing happened. 

At length the lamp, which had been flickering feebly for some time, wentout, lacking oil, and except for the light which crept through thewindow-place, for now they had torn away the sacking that hung over it, they were in darkness. 

A little while later they heard the sound of a horse's hoofs, and thedoor of the house open and shut, after which there was more talkingbelow, and mingling with it a new voice which Peter seemed to remember. 

"I have it, " he whispered to Castell. "Here is our late host, FatherHenriques, come to see how his guests are faring. "

Another half-hour and the waning moon rose, throwing a beam of lightinto their chamber; also they heard horse's hoofs again. Going to thewindow, Peter looked out of it and saw the horse, a fine beast, beingheld by the landlord, then a man came and mounted it and, at some remarkof his, turned his face upwards towards their window. It was that ofFather Henriques. 

The two whispered together for a while till the priest blessed thelandlord in Latin words and rode away, and again they heard the door ofthe house close. 

"He is off to Granada, to warn Morella his master of our coming, " saidCastell, as they reseated themselves upon the beds. 

"To warn Morella that we shall never come, perhaps; but we will beat himyet, " replied Peter. 

The night wore on, and Castell, who was very weary, sank back upon thebolster and began to doze, when suddenly the chair that was set upon thetrap-door fell over with a great clatter, and he sprang up, asking whatthat noise might be. 

"Only a rat, " answered Peter, who saw no good in telling him thetruth--namely, that thieves or murderers had tried to open thetrap-door. 

Then he crept down the room, felt the cord, to find that it was stilluncut, and replaced the chair where it had been. This done, Peter cameback to the bed and threw himself down upon it as though he wouldslumber, though never was he more wide awake. The weariness of Castellhad overcome him again, however, for he snored at his side. 

For a long while nothing further happened, although once the ray ofmoonlight was cut off, and for an instant Peter thought that he saw aface at the window. If so, it vanished and returned no more. Now frombehind their heads came faint sounds, like those of stifled breathing, like those of naked feet; then a slight creaking and scratching in thewall--a mouse's tooth might have caused it--and suddenly, right in thatray of moonlight, a cruel-looking knife and a naked arm projectedthrough the panelling. 

The knife flickered for a second over the breast of the sleeping Castellas though it were a living thing that chose the spot where it wouldstrike. One second--only one--for the next Peter had drawn himself up, and with a sweep of the sword which lay unscabbarded at his side, hadshorn that arm off above the elbow, just where it projected from thepanelling. 

"What was that?" asked Castell again, as something fell upon him. 

"A snake, " answered Peter, "a poisonous snake. Wake up now, and look. "

Castell obeyed, staring in silence at the horrible arm which stillclasped the great knife, while from beyond the panelling there came astifled groan, then a sound as of a heavy body stumbling away. 

"Come, " said Peter, "let us be going, unless we would stop here forever. That fellow will soon be back to seek his arm. "

"Going! How?" asked Castell. 

"There seems to be but one road, and that a rough one, through thewindow and over the wall, " answered Peter. "Ah! there they come; Ithought so. " And as he spoke they heard the sound of men scrambling upthe ladder. 

They ran to the window-place and looked out, but there seemed to be noone below, and it was not more than twelve feet from the ground. Peterhelped Castell through it, then, holding his sound arm with both hisown, lowered him as far as he could, and let go. He dropped on to hisfeet, fell to the ground, then rose again, unhurt. Peter was about tofollow him when he heard the chair tumble over again, and, lookinground, saw the trap-door open, to fall back with a crash. They hadcut the cord!

The figure of a man holding a knife appeared in the faint light, followed by the head of another man. Now it was too late for him to getthrough the window-place safely; if he attempted it he would be stabbedin the back. So, grasping his sword with both hands, Peter leapt at thatman, aiming a great stroke at his shadowy mass. It fell upon himsomewhere, for down he went and lay quite still. By now the second manhad his knee upon the edge of flooring. Peter thrust him through, and hesank backwards on to the heads of others who were following him, sweeping the ladder with his weight, so that all of them tumbled in aheap at its foot, save one who hung to the edge of the trap frame by hishands. Peter slammed its door to, crushing them so that he loosed hisgrip, with a howl. Then, as he had nothing else, he dragged the body ofthe dead man on to it and left him there. 

Next he rushed to the window, sheathing his sword as he ran, scrambledthrough it, and, hanging by his arms, let himself drop, coming to theground safely, for he was very agile, and in the excitement of the frayforgot the hurt to his head and shoulder. 

"Where now?" asked Castell, as he stood by him panting. 

"To the stable for the mules. No, it is useless; we have no time tosaddle them, and the outer gate is locked. The wall--the wall--we mustclimb it! They will be after us in a minute. "

They ran thither and found that, though ten feet high, fortunately thiswall was built of rough stone, which gave an easy foothold. Peterscrambled up first, then, lying across its top, stretched down his handto Castell, and with difficulty--for the man was heavy andcrippled--dragged him to his side. Just then they heard a voice fromtheir garret shout:

"The English devils have gone! Get to the door and cut them off. "

"Come on, " said Peter. So together they climbed, or rather fell, downthe wall on to a mass of prickly-pear bush, which broke the shock buttore them so sorely in a score of places that they could have shriekedwith the pain. Somehow they freed themselves, and, bleeding all over, broke from that accursed bush, struggling up the bank of the ditch inwhich it grew, ran for the road, and along it towards Granada. 

Before they had gone a hundred yards they heard shoutings, and guessedthat they were being followed. Just here the road crossed a ravine fullof boulders and rough scrubby growth, whereas beyond it was bare andopen. Peter seized Castell and dragged him up this ravine till they cameto a place where, behind a great stone, there was a kind of hole, filledwith bushes and tall, dead grass, into which they plunged and hidthemselves. 

"Draw your sword, " he said to Castell. "If they find us, we will die aswell as we can. "

He obeyed, holding it in his left hand. 

They heard the robbers run along the road; then, seeing that they hadmissed their victims, these returned again, five or six of them, andfell to searching the ravine. But the light was very bad, for here therays of the moon did not penetrate, and they could find nothing. Presently two of them halted within five paces of them and began totalk, saying that the swine must still be hidden in the yard, or perhapshad doubled back for Motril. 

"I don't know where they are hidden, " answered the other man; "but thisis a poor business. Fat Pedro's arm is cut clean off, and I expect hewill bleed to death, while two of the other fellows are dead or dying, for that long-legged Englishman hits hard, to say nothing of those whodrank the drugged wine, and look as though they would never wake. Yes, apoor business to get a few doubloons and please a priest, but oh! if Ihad the hogs here I----" And he hissed out a horrible threat. "Meanwhilewe had best lie up at the mouth of this place in case they should stillbe hidden here. "

Peter heard him and listened. All the other men had gone, running backalong the road. His blood was up, and the thorn pricks stung him sorely. Saying no word, out of his lair he came with that terrible sword ofhis aloft. 

The men caught sight of him, and gave a gasp of fear. It was the lastsound that one of them ever made. Then the other turned and ran like ahare. This was he who had uttered the threat. 

"Stop!" whispered Peter, as he overtook him--"stop, and do what youpromised. "

The brute turned, and asked for mercy, but got none. 

"It was needful, " said Peter to Castell presently; "you heard--they weregoing to wait for us. "

"I do not think that they will try to murder any more Englishmen at thatinn, " panted Castell, as he ran along beside him. 

CHAPTER XIV

INEZ AND HER GARDEN

For two hours or more John Castell and Peter travelled on the Granadaroad, running when it was smooth, walking when it was rough, andstopping from time to time to get their breath and listen. But the nightwas quite silent, no one seemed to be pursuing them. Evidently theremaining cut-throats had either taken another way or, having their fillof this adventure, wanted to see no more of Peter and his sword. 

At length the dawn broke over the great misty plain, for now they werecrossing the _vega_. Then the sun rose and dispelled the vapours, and adozen miles or more away they saw Granada on its hill. They saw eachother also, and a sorry sight they were, torn by the sharp thorns, andstained with blood from their scratches. Peter was bare-headed too, forhe had lost his cap, and almost beside himself now that the excitementhad left him, from lack of sleep, pain, and weariness. Moreover, as thesun rose, it grew fearfully hot upon that plain, and its fierce rays, striking full upon his head, seemed to stupefy him, so that at last theywere obliged to halt and weave a kind of hat out of corn and grasses, which gave him so strange an appearance that some Moors, whom they metgoing to their toil, thought that he must be a madman, and ran away. 

Still they crawled forward, refreshing themselves with water wheneverthey could find any in the irrigation ditches that these people used fortheir crops, but covering little more than a mile an hour. Towards noonthe heat grew so dreadful that they were obliged to lie down to restunder the shade of some palm-like trees, and here, absolutely outworn, they sank into a kind of sleep. 

They were awakened by a sound of voices, and staggered to their feet, drawing their swords, for they thought that the thieves from the inn hadovertaken them. Instead of these ruffianly murderers, however, they sawbefore them a body of eight Moors, beautifully mounted upon whitehorses, and clad in turbans and flowing robes, the like of which Peterhad never yet beheld, who sat there regarding them gravely with theirquiet eyes, and, as it seemed, not without pity. 

"Put up your swords, Seņors, " said the leader of these Moors inexcellent Spanish--indeed, he seemed to be a Spaniard dressed in Easterngarments--"for we are many and fresh; and you are but two and wounded. "

They obeyed, who could do nothing else. 

"Now tell us, though there is little need to ask, " went on the captain, "you are those men of England who boarded the _San Antonio_ and escapedwhen she was sinking, are you not?"

Castell nodded, then answered:

"We boarded her to seek----"

"Never mind what you sought, " the captain answered; "the names ofexalted ladies should not be mentioned before strange men. But you havebeen in trouble again since then, at the inn yonder, where this tallseņor bore himself very bravely. Oh! we have heard all the story, andgive him honour who can wield a sword so well in the dark. "

"We thank you, " said Castell, "but what is your business with us?"

"Seņor, we are sent by our master, his Excellency, the high Lord andMarquis of Morella, to find you and bring you to be his guestsat Granada. "

"So the priest has told. I thought as much, " muttered Peter. 

"We pray you to come without trouble, as we do not wish to do anyviolence to such gallant men, " went on the captain. "Be pleased to mounttwo of these horses, and ride with us. "

"I am a merchant, with friends of my own at Granada, " answered Castell. "Cannot we go to them, who do not seek the hospitality of the marquis?"

"Seņor, our orders are otherwise, and here the word of our master, themarquis, is a law that may not be broken. "

"I thought that Boabdil was king of Granada, " said Castell. 

"Without doubt he is king, Seņor, and by the grace of Allah will remainso, but the marquis is allied to him in blood; also, while the trucelasts, he is a representative of their Majesties of Spain in our city, "and, at a sign, two of the Moors dismounted and led forward theirhorses, holding the stirrups, and offering to help them to the saddle. 

"There is nothing for it, " said Peter; "we must go. " So, awkwardlyenough, for they were very stiff, they climbed on to the beasts and rodeaway with their captors. 

The sun was sinking now, for they had slept long, and by the time theyreached the gates of Granada the muezzins were calling to the sunsetprayer from the minarets of the mosques. 

It was but a very dim and confused idea that Peter gathered of the greatcity of the Moors, as, surrounded by their white-robed escort, he rodehe knew not whither. Narrow winding streets, white houses, shutteredwindows, crowds of courteous, somewhat silent people, all men, and allclad in those same strange, flowing dresses, who looked at themcuriously, and murmured words which afterwards he came to learn meant"Christian prisoners, " or sometimes "Christian dogs"; fretted andpointed arches, and a vast fairy-like building set upon a hill. He wasdazed with pain and fatigue as, a long-legged, blood-stained figure, crowned with his quaint hat of grasses, he rode through that wondrousand imperial place. 

Yet no man laughed at him, absurd as he must have seemed; but perhapsthis was because under the grotesqueness of his appearance theyrecognised something of his quality. Or they might have heard rumours ofhis sword-play at the inn and on the ship. At any rate, their attitudewas that of courteous dislike of the Christian, mingled with respect forthe brave man in misfortune. 

At length, after mounting a long rise, they came to a palace on a mount, facing the vast, red-walled fortress which seemed to dominate the place, which he afterwards knew as the Alhambra, but separated from it by avalley. This palace was a very great building, set on three sides of asquare, and surrounded by gardens, wherein tall cypress-trees pointed tothe tender sky. They rode through the gardens and sundry gateways tillthey came to a courtyard where servants, with torches in their hands, ran out to meet them. Somebody helped him off his horse, somebodysupported him up a flight of marble steps, beneath which a fountainsplashed, into a great, cool room with an ornamented roof. Then Peterremembered no more. 

 * * * * *

A time went by, a long, long time--in fact it was nearly a month--beforePeter really opened his eyes to the world again. Not that he had beeninsensible for all this while--that is, quite--for at intervals he hadbecome aware of that large, cool room, and of people talking abouthim--especially of a dark-eyed, light-footed, and pretty woman with awhite wimple round her face, who appeared to be in charge of him. Occasionally he thought that this must be Margaret, and yet knew that itcould not, for she was different. Also, he remembered that once or twicehe had seemed to see the haughty, handsome face of Morella bending overhim, as though he watched curiously to learn whether he would live ornot, and then had striven to rise to fight him, and been pressed back bythe soft, white hands of the woman that yet were so terribly strong. 

Now, when he awoke at last, it was to see her sitting there with a rayof sunlight from some upper window falling on her face, sitting with herchin resting on her hand and her elbow on her knee, and contemplatinghim with a pretty, puzzled look. She made a sweet picture thus, hethought. Then he spoke to her in his slow Spanish, for somehow he knewthat she would not understand his own tongue. 

"You are not Margaret, " he said. 

At once the dream went out of the woman's soft eyes; she becameintensely interested, and, rising, advanced towards him, a very graciousfigure, who seemed to sway as she walked. 

"No, no, " she said, bending over him and touching his forehead with hertaper fingers; "my name is Inez. You wander still, Seņor. "

"Inez what?" he asked. 

"Inez only, " she answered, "Inez, a woman of Granada, the rest is lost. Inez, the nurse of sick men, Seņor. "

"Where then is Margaret--the English Margaret?"

A veil of secrecy seemed to fall over the woman's face, and her voicechanged as she answered, no longer ringing true, or so it struck hissenses made quick and subtle by the fires of fever:

"I know no English Margaret. Do you then love her--this EnglishMargaret?"

"Aye, " he answered, "she was stolen from me; I have followed her fromfar, and suffered much. Is she dead or living?"

"I have told you, Seņor, I know nothing, although"--and again the voicebecame natural--"it is true that I thought you loved somebody from yourtalk in your illness. "

Peter pondered a while, then he began to remember, and asked again:

"Where is Castell?"

"Castell? Was he your companion, the man with a hurt arm who looked likea Jew? I do not know where he is. In another part of the city, perhaps. I think that he was sent to his friends. Question me not of suchmatters, who am but your sick-nurse. You have been very ill, Seņor. Look!" And she handed him a little mirror made of polished silver, then, seeing that he was too weak to take it, held it before him. 

Peter saw his face, and groaned, for, except the red scar upon hischeek, it was ivory white and wasted to nothing. 

"I am glad Margaret did not see me like this, " he said, with an attemptat a smile, "bearded too, and what a beard! Lady, how could you havenursed one so hideous?"

"I have not found you hideous, " she answered softly; "besides, that ismy trade. But you must not talk, you must rest. Drink this, and rest, "and she gave him soup in a silver bowl, which he swallowed readilyenough, and went to sleep again. 

Some days afterwards, when Peter was well on the road to convalescence, his beautiful nurse came and sat by him, a look of pity in her tender, Eastern eyes. 

"What is it now, Inez?" he asked, noting her changed face. 

"Seņor Pedro, you spoke to me a while ago, when you woke up from yourlong sleep, of a certain Margaret, did you not? Well, I have beeninquiring of this Dona Margaret, and have no good news to tell of her. "

Peter set his teeth, and said:

"Go on, tell me the worst. "

"This Margaret was travelling with the Marquis of Morella, was shenot?"

"She had been stolen by him, " answered Peter. 

"Alas! it may be so; but here in Spain, and especially here in Granada, that will scarcely screen the name of one who has been known to travelwith the Marquis of Morella. "

"So much the worse for the Marquis of Morella when I meet him again, "answered Peter sternly. "What is your story, Nurse Inez?"

She looked with interest at his grim, thin face, but, as it seemed tohim, with no displeasure. 

"A sad one. As I have told you, a sad one. It seems that the other daythis seņora was found dead at the foot of the tallest tower of themarquis's palace, though whether she fell from it, or was thrown fromit, none know. "

Peter gasped, and was silent for a while; then asked:

"Did you see her dead?"

"No, Seņor; others saw her. "

"And told you to tell me? Nurse Inez, I do not believe your tale. If theDona Margaret, my betrothed, were dead I should know it; but my hearttells me that she is alive. "

"You have great faith, Seņor, " said the woman, with a note of admirationin her voice which she could not suppress, but, as he observed, withoutcontradicting him. 

"I have faith, " he answered. "Nothing else is left; but so far it hasbeen a good crutch. "

Peter made no further allusion to the subject, only presently he asked:

"Tell me, where am I?"

"In a prison, Seņor. "

"Oh! a prison, with a beautiful woman for jailer, and other beautifulwomen"--and he pointed to a fair creature who had brought something intothe room--"as servants. A very fine prison also, " and he looked abouthim at the marbles and arches and lovely carving. 

"There are men without the gate, not women, " she replied, smiling. 

"I daresay; captives can be tied with ropes of silk, can they not? Well, whose is this prison?"

She shook her head. 

"I do not know, Seņor. The Moorish king's perhaps--you yourself havesaid that I am only the jailer. "

"Then who pays you?"

"Perhaps I am not paid, Seņor; perhaps I work for love, " and she glancedat him swiftly, "or hate, " and her face changed. 

"Not hate of me, I think, " said Peter. 

"No, Seņor, not hate of you. Why should I hate you who have been sohelpless and so courteous to me?" and she bent the knee to him a little. 

"Why indeed? especially as I am also grateful to you who have nursed meback to life. But then, why hide the truth from a helpless man?"

Inez glanced about her; the room was empty now. She bent over him andwhispered:

"Have you never been forced to hide the truth? No, I read it in yourface, and you are not a woman--an erring woman. "

They looked into each other's eyes a while, then Peter asked: "Is theDona Margaret really dead?"

"I do not know, " she answered; "I was told so. " And as though she fearedlest she should betray herself, Inez turned and left him quickly. 

The days went by, and through the slow degrees of convalescence Petergrew strong again. But they brought him no added knowledge. He did notknow where he dwelt or why he was there. All he knew was that he lived aprisoner in a sumptuous palace, or as he suspected, for of this he couldnot be sure, since the arched windows of one side of the building werewalled up, in the wing of a palace. Nobody came near to him except thefair Inez, and a Moor who either was deaf or could understand nothingthat he said to him in Spanish. There were other women about, it istrue, very pretty women all of them, who acted as servants, but none ofthese were allowed to approach him; he only saw them at a distance. 

Therefore Inez was his sole companion, and with her he grew veryintimate, to a certain extent, but no further. On the occasion that hasbeen described she had lifted a corner of her veil which hid her trueself, but a long while passed before she enlarged her confidence. Theveil was kept down very close indeed. Day by day he questioned her, andday by day, without the slightest show of irritation, or even annoyance, she parried his questions. They knew perfectly well that they werematching their wits against each other; but as yet Inez had the best ofthe game, which, indeed, she seemed to enjoy. He would talk to her alsoof all sorts of things--the state of Spain, the Moorish court, thedanger that threatened Granada, whereof the great siege now drew near, and so forth--and of these matters she would discourse mostintelligently, with the result that he learned much of the state ofpolitics in Castile and Granada, and greatly improved his knowledge ofthe Spanish tongue. 

But when of a sudden, as he did again and again, he sprang some questionon her about Morella, or Margaret, or John Castell, that same subtlechange would come over her face, and the same silence would sealher lips. 

"Seņor, " she said to him one day with a laugh, "you ask me of secretswhich I might reveal to you--perhaps--if you were my husband or my love, but which you cannot expect a nurse, whose life hangs on it, to answer. Not that I wish you to become my husband or my lover, " she added, with alittle nervous laugh. 

Peter looked at her with his grave eyes. 

"I know that you do not wish that, " he said, "for how could I attractone so gay and beautiful as you are?"

"You seem to attract the English Margaret, " she replied quickly in anettled voice. 

"To have attracted, you mean, as you tell me that she is dead, " heanswered; and, seeing her mistake, Inez bit her lip. "But, " he went on, "I was going to add, though it may have no value for you, that you haveattracted me as your true friend. "

"Friend!" she said, opening her large eyes, "what talk is this? Can thewoman Inez find a friend in a man who is under sixty?"

"It would appear so, " he answered. And again with that graceful littlecurtsey of hers she went away, leaving him very puzzled. Two dayslater she appeared in his room, evidently much disturbed. 

"I thought that you had left me altogether, and I am glad to see you, for I tire of that deaf Moor and of this fine room. I want fresh air. "

"I know it, " she answered; "so I have come to take you to walk in agarden. "

He leapt for joy at her words, and snatching at his sword, which hadbeen left to him, buckled it on. 

"You will not need that, " she said. 

"I thought that I should not need it in yonder inn, but I did, " heanswered. Whereat she laughed, then turned, put her hand upon hisshoulder and spoke to him earnestly. 

"See, friend, " she whispered, "you want to walk in the fresh air--do younot?--and to learn certain things--and I wish to tell you them. But Idare not do it here, where we may at any moment be surrounded by spies, for these walls have ears indeed. Well, when we walk in that garden, would it be too great a penance for you to put your arm about mywaist--you who still need support?"

"No penance at all, I assure you, " answered Peter with something like asmile. For after all he was a man, and young; while the waist of Inezwas as pretty as all the rest of her. "But, " he added, "it might bemisunderstood. "

"Quite so, I wish it to be misunderstood: not by me, who know that youcare nothing for me and would as soon place your arm round thatmarble column. "

Peter opened his lips to speak, but she stopped him at once. 

"Oh! do not waste falsehoods on me, in which of a truth you have noart, " she said with evident irritation. "Why, if you had the money, youwould offer to pay me for my nursing, and who knows, I might take it!Understand, you must either do this, seeming to play the lover to me, orwe cannot walk together in that garden. "

Peter hesitated a little, guessing a plot, while she bent forward tillher lips almost touched his ear and said in a still lower voice:

"And I cannot tell you how, perhaps--I say perhaps--you may come to seethe remains of the Dona Margaret, and certain other matters. Ah!" sheadded after a pause, with a little bitter laugh, "now you will kiss mefrom one end of the garden to the other, will you not? Foolish man!Doubt no more; take your chance, it may be the last. "

"Of what? Kissing you? Or the other things?"

"That you will find out, " she said, with a shrug of her shoulders. "Come!"

Then, while he followed dubiously, she led him down the length of thegreat room to a door with a spy-hole in the top of it, that was set in aMoorish archway at the corner. 

This door she opened, and there beyond it, a drawn scimitar in his hand, stood a tall Moor on guard. Inez spoke a word to him, whereon he salutedwith his scimitar and let them pass across the landing to a turret stairthat lay beyond, which they descended. At its foot was another door, whereon she knocked four times. Bolts shot back, keys turned, and it wasopened by a black porter, beyond whom stood a second Moor, also withdrawn sword. They passed him as they had passed the first, turned down alittle passage to the right, ending in some steps, and came to a thirddoor, in front of which she halted. 

"Now, " she said, "nerve yourself for the trial. "

"What trial?" he asked, supporting himself against the wall, for hefound his legs still weak. 

"This, " she answered, pointing to her waist, "and these, " and shetouched her rich, red lips with her taper finger-points. "Would youlike to practise a little, my innocent English knight, before we go out?You look as though you might seem awkward and unconvincing. "

"I think, " answered Peter drily, for the humour of the situation movedhim, "that such practice is somewhat dangerous for me. It might annoyyou before I had done. I will postpone my happiness until we are inthe garden. "

"I thought so, " she answered; "but look now, you must play the part, orI shall suffer, who am bearing much for you. "

"I think that I may suffer also, " he murmured, but not so low that shedid not catch his words. 

"No, friend Pedro, " she said, turning on him, "it is the woman whosuffers in this kind of farce. She pays; the man rides away to playanother, " and without more ado she opened the door, which proved to beunlocked and unguarded. 

Beyond the foot of some steps lay a most lovely garden. Great, taperingcypresses grew about it, with many orange-trees and flowering shrubsthat filled the soft, southern air with odours. Also there were marblefountains into which water splashed from the mouths of carven lions, andhere and there arbours with stone seats, whereon were laid soft cushionsof many colours. It was a veritable place of Eastern delight anddreams, such as Peter had never known before he looked upon it on thatlanguorous eve--he who had not seen the sky or flowers for so many wearyweeks of sickness. It was secluded also, being surrounded by a highwall, but at one place the tall, windowless tower of some other buildingof red stone soared up between and beyond two lofty cypress-trees. 

"This is the harem garden, " Inez whispered, "where many a paintedfavourite has flitted for a few happy, summer hours, till winter cameand the butterfly was broken, " and, as she spoke, she dropped her veilover her face and began to descend the stairs. 

CHAPTER XV

PETER PLAYS A PART

"Stop, " said Peter from the shadow of the doorway, "I fear thisbusiness, Inez, and I do not understand why it is needful. Why cannotyou say what you have to say here?"

"Are you mad?" she answered almost fiercely through her veil. "Do youthink that it can be any pleasure for me to seem to make love to a stoneshaped like a man, for whom I care nothing at all--except as a friend?"she added quickly. "I tell you, Seņor Peter, that if you do not do as Itell you, you will never hear what I have to say, for I shall be held tohave failed in my business, and within a few minutes shall vanish fromyou for ever--to my death perhaps; but what does that matter to you?Choose now, and quickly, for I cannot stand thus for long. "

"I obey you, God forgive me!" said the distraught Peter from thedarkness of the doorway; "but must I really----?"

"Yes, you must, " she answered with energy, "and some would not thinkthat so great a penance. "

Then she lifted the corner of her veil coyly and, peeping out beneathit, called in a soft, clear voice, "Oh! forgive me, dear friend, if Ihave run too fast for you, forgetting that you are still so very weak. Here, lean upon me; I am frail, but it may serve. " And she passed up thesteps again, to reappear in another moment with Peter's hand resting onher shoulder. 

"Be careful of these steps, " she said, "they are so slippery"--astatement to which Peter, whose pale face had grown suddenly red, murmured a hearty assent. "Do not be afraid, " she went on in herflute-like voice; "this is the secret garden, where none can hear words, however sweet, and none can see even a caress, no, not the most jealouswoman. That is why in old days it was called the Sultana's Chamber, forthere at the end of it was where she bathed in the summer season. Whatsay you of spies? Oh! yes, in the palace there are many, but to looktowards this place, even for the Guardian of the Women, was alwaysdeath. Here there are no witnesses, save the flowers and the birds. "

As she spoke thus they reached the central path, and passed up itslowly, Peter's hand still upon the shoulder of Inez, and her white armabout him, while she looked up into his eyes. 

"Bend closer over me, " she whispered, "for truly your face is like thatof a wooden saint, " and he bent. "Now, " she went on, "listen. Your ladylives, and is well--kiss me on the lips, please, that news is worth it. If you shut your eyes you can imagine that I am she. "

Again Peter obeyed, and with a better grace than might have beenexpected. 

"She is a prisoner in this same palace, " she went on, "and the marquis, who is mad for love of her, seeks by all means, fair or foul, to makeher his wife!"

"Curse him!" exclaimed Peter with another embrace. 

"Till a few days ago she thought you dead; but now she knows that youare alive and recovering. Her father, Castell, escaped from the placewhere he was put, and is in hiding among his friends, the Jews, whereeven Morella cannot find him; indeed, he believes him fled from thecity. But he is not fled, and, having much gold, has opened a doorbetween himself and his daughter. "

Here she stopped to return the embrace with much warmth. Then theypassed under some trees, and came to the marble baths where the sultanaswere supposed to have bathed in summer, for this place had been one ofthe palaces of the Kings of Granada before they lived in the Alhambra. Here Inez sat down upon a seat and loosened some garment about herthroat, for the evening was very hot. 

"What are you doing?" Peter asked doubtfully, for he was filled withmany fears. 

"Cooling myself, " she answered; "your arm was warm, and we may sit herefor a few minutes. "

"Well, go on with your tale, " he said. 

"I have little more to say, friend, except that if you wish to send anymessage, I might perhaps be able to take it. "

"You are an angel, " he exclaimed. 

"That is another word for messenger, is it not? Continue. "

"Tell her--that if she hears anything of all this business, it isn'ttrue. "

"On that point she may form her own opinion, " replied Inez demurely. "IfI were in her place I know what mine would be. Don't waste time; wemust soon begin to walk again. "

Peter stared at her, for he could understand nothing of all this play. Apparently she read his look, for she answered it in a quiet, serious voice:

"You are wondering what everything means, and why I am doing what I do. I will tell you, Seņor, and you can believe me or not as you like. Perhaps you think that I am in love with you. It would not be wonderful, would it? Besides, in the old tales, that always happens--the lady whonurses the Christian knight and worships him and so forth. "

"I don't think anything of the sort; I am not so vain. "

"I know it, Seņor, you are too good a man to be vain. Well, I do allthese things, not for love of you, or any one, but for hate--for hate. Yes, for hate of Morella, " and she clenched her little hand, hissing thewords out between her teeth. 

"I understand the feeling, " said Peter. "But--but what has he done to_you_?"

"Do not ask me, Seņor. Enough that once I loved him--that accursedpriest Henriques sold me into his power--oh! a long while ago, and heruined me, making me what I am, and--I bore his child, and--and it isdead. Oh! Mother of God, my boy is dead, and since then I have been anoutcast and his slave--they have slaves here in Granada, Seņor--dependent on him for my bread, forced to do his bidding, forced to waitupon his other loves; I, who once was the sultana; I, of whom he haswearied. Only to-day--but why should I tell you of it? Well, he hasdriven me even to this, that I must kiss an unwilling stranger in agarden, " and she sobbed aloud. 

"Poor girl!--poor girl!" said Peter, patting her hand kindly with histhin fingers. "Henceforth I have another score against Morella, and Iwill pay it too. "

"Will you?" she asked quickly. "Ah! if so, I would die for you, who nowlive only to be revenged upon him. And it shall be my first vengeance torob him of that noble-looking mistress of yours, whom he has stolen awayand has set his heart upon wholly, because she is the first woman whoever resisted him--him, who thinks that he is invincible. "

"Have you any plan?" asked Peter. 

"As yet, none. The thing is very difficult. I go in danger of my life, for if he thought that I betrayed him he would kill me like a rat, andthink no harm of it. Such things can be done in Granada without sin, Seņor, and no questions asked--at least if the victim be a woman of themurderer's household. I have told you already that if I had refused todo what I have done this evening I should certainly have been got rid ofin this way or that, and another set on at the work. No, I have no planyet, only it is I through whom the Seņor Castell communicates with hisdaughter, and I will see him again, and see her, and we will make someplan. No, do not thank me. He pays me for my services, and I am glad totake his money, who hope to escape from this hell and live on itelsewhere. Yet, not for all the money in the world would I risk what Iam risking, though in truth it matters not to me whether I live or die. Seņor, I will not disguise it from you, all this scene will come to theDona Margaret's ears, but I will explain it to her. "

"I pray you, do, " said Peter earnestly--"explain it fully. "

"I will--I will. I will work for you and her and her father, and if Icease to work, know that I am dead or in a dungeon, and fend foryourselves as best you may. One thing I can tell you for yourcomfort--no harm has been done to this lady of yours. Morella loves hertoo well for that. He wishes to make her his wife. Or perhaps he hassworn some oath, as I know that he has sworn that he will not murderyou--which he might have done a score of times while you have lain aprisoner in his power. Why, once when you were senseless he came andstood over you, a dagger in his hand, and reasoned out the case with me. I said, 'Why do you not kill him?' knowing that thus I could best helpto save your life. He answered, 'Because I will not take my wife withher lover's blood upon my hands, unless I slay him in fair fight. Iswore it yonder in London. It was the offering which I made to God andto my patron saint that so I might win her fairly, and if I break thatoath, God will be avenged upon me here and hereafter. Do my bidding, Inez. Nurse him well, so that if he dies, he dies without sin of mine, 'No, he will not murder you or harm her. Friend Pedro, he dare not. "

"Can you think of nothing?" asked Peter. 

"Nothing--as yet nothing. These walls are high, guards watch them dayand night, and outside is the great city of Granada where Morella hasmuch power, and whence no Christian may escape. But he would marry her. And there is that handsome fool-woman, her servant, who is in love withhim--oh! she told me all about it in the worst Spanish I ever heard, butthe story is too long to repeat; and the priest, Father Henriques--hewho wished that you might be killed at the inn, and who loves money somuch. Ah! now I think I see some light. But we have no more time totalk, and I must have time to think. Friend Pedro, make ready yourkisses, we must go on with our game, and, in truth, you play but badly. Come now, your arm. There is a seat prepared for us yonder. Smile andlook loving. I have not art enough for both. Come!--come!" And togetherthey walked out of the dense shadow of the trees and past the marblebath of the sultanas to a certain seat beneath a bower on which werecushions, and lying among them a lute. 

"Seat yourself at my feet, " she said, as she sank on to the bench. "Canyou sing?"

"No more than a crow, " he answered. 

"Then I must sing to you. Well, it will be better than the love-making. "Then in a very sweet voice she began to warble amorous Moorish dittiesthat she accompanied upon the lute, whilst Peter, who was weary in bodyand disturbed in mind, played a lover's part to the best of his ability, and by degrees the darkness gathered. 

At length, when they could no longer see across the garden, Inez ceasedsinging and rose with a sigh. 

"The play is finished and the curtain down, " she said; "also it is timethat you went in out of this damp. Seņor Pedro, you are a very badactor; but let us pray that the audience was compassionate, and took thewill for the deed. "

"I did not see any audience, " answered Peter. 

"But it saw you, as I dare say you will find out by-and-by. Follow menow back to your room, for I must be going about your business--and myown. Have you any message for the Seņor Castell?"

"None, save my love and duty. Tell him that, thanks to you, althoughstill somewhat feeble, I am recovered of my hurt upon the ship and thefever which I took from the sun, and that if he can make any plan to getus all out of this accursed city and the grip of Morella I will blesshis name and yours. "

"Good, I will not forget. Now be silent. Tomorrow we will walk hereagain; but be not afraid, then there will be no more need forlove-making. "

Margaret sat by the open window-place of her beautiful chamber inMorella's palace. She was splendidly arrayed in a rich, Spanish dress, whereof the collar was stiff with pearls, she who must wear what itpleased her captor to give her. Her long tresses, fastened with ajewelled band, flowed down about her shoulders, and, her hand resting onher knee, from her high tower prison she gazed out across the valley atthe dim and mighty mass of the Alhambra and the ten thousand lights ofGranada which sparkled far below. Near to her, seated beneath a silverhanging-lamp, and also clad in rich array, was Betty. 

"What is it, Cousin?" asked the girl, looking at her anxiously. "Atleast you should be happier than you were, for now you know that Peteris not dead, but almost recovered from his sickness and in this verypalace; also, that your father is well and hidden away, plotting for ourescape. Why, then, are you so sad, who should be more joyful thanyou were?"

"Would you learn, Betty? Then I will tell you. I am betrayed. PeterBrome, the man whom I looked upon almost as my husband, is falseto me. "

"Master Peter false!" exclaimed Betty, staring at her open-mouthed. "No, it is not possible. I know him; he could not be, who will not even lookat another woman, if that is what you mean. "

"You say so. Then, Betty, listen and judge. You remember this afternoon, when the marquis took us to see the wonders of this palace, and I wentthinking that perhaps I might find some path by which afterwards wecould escape?"

"Of course I remember, Margaret. We do not leave this cage so often thatI am likely to forget. "

"Then you will remember also that high-walled garden in which we walked, where the great tower is, and how the marquis and that hateful priestFather Henriques and I went up the tower to study the prospect from itsroof, I thinking that you were following me. "

"The waiting-women would not let me, " said Betty. "So soon as you hadpassed in they shut the door and told me to bide where I was till youreturned. I went near to pulling the hair out of the head of one of themover it, since I was afraid for you alone with those two men. But shedrew her knife, the cat, and I had none. "

"You must be careful, Betty, " said Margaret, "lest some of these heathenfolk should do you a mischief. "

"Not they, " she answered; "they are afraid of me. Why, the other day Ibundled one of them, whom I found listening at the door, head first downthe stairs. She complained to the marquis, but he only laughed at her, and now she lies abed with a plaster on her nose. But tell meyour tale. "

"We climbed the tower, " said Margaret, "and from its topmost room lookedout through the windows that face south at all the mountains and theplain over which they dragged us from Motril. Presently the priest, whohad gone to the north wall, in which there are no windows, and enteredsome recess there, came out with an evil smile upon his face, andwhispered something to the marquis, who turned to me and said:

"'The father tells me of an even prettier scene which we can viewyonder. Come, Seņora, and look. '

"So I went, who wished to learn all that I could of the building. Theyled me into a little chamber cut in the thickness of the stone-work, inthe wall of which are slits like loop-holes for the shooting of arrows, wide within, but very narrow without, so that I think they cannot beseen from below, hidden as they are between the rough stones ofthe tower. 

"'This is the place, ' said the marquis, 'where in the old days the kingsof Granada, who were always jealous, used to sit to watch their women inthe secret garden. It is told that thus one of them discovered hissultana making love to an astrologer, and drowned them both in themarble bath at the end of the garden. Look now, beneath us walk a couplewho do not guess that we are the witnesses of their vows. '

"So I looked idly enough to pass the time, and there I saw a tall man ina Moorish dress, and with him, for their arms were about each other, awoman. As I was turning my head away who did not wish to spy upon themthus, the woman lifted her face to kiss the man, and I knew her for thatbeautiful Inez who has visited us here at times, as a spy I think. Presently, too, the man, after paying her back her embrace, glancedabout him guiltily, and I saw his face also, and knew it. "

"Who was it?" asked Betty, for this gossip of lovers interested her. 

"Peter Brome, no other, " Margaret answered calmly, but with a note ofdespair in her voice. "Peter Brome, pale with recent sickness, but noother man. "

"The saints save us! I did not think he had it in him!" gasped Bettywith astonishment. 

"They would not let me go, " went on Margaret; "they forced me to see itall. The pair tarried for a while beneath some trees by the bath andwere hidden there. Then they came out again and sat them down upon amarble seat, while the woman sang songs and the man leaned against herlovingly. So it went on until the darkness fell, and we went, leavingthem there. Now, " she added, with a little sob, "what say you?"

"I say, " answered Betty, "that it was not Master Peter, who has noliking for strange ladies and secret gardens. "

"It was he, and no other man, Betty. "

"Then, Cousin, he was drugged or drunk or bewitched, not the Peter whomwe know. "

"Bewitched, perchance, by that bad woman, which is no excuse for him. "

Betty thought a while. She could not doubt the evidence, but from herface it was clear that she took no severe view of the offence. 

"Well, at the worst, " she said, "men, as I have known them, are men. Hehas been shut up for a long while with that minx, who is very fair andwitching, and it was scarcely right to watch him through a slit in atower. If he were my lover, I should say nothing about it. "

"I will say nothing to him about that or any other matter, " repliedMargaret sternly. "I have done with Peter Brome. "

Again Betty thought, and spoke. 

"I seem to see a trick. Cousin Margaret, they told you he was dead, didthey not? And then that news came to us that he was not dead, only sick, and here. So the lie failed. Now they tell you, and seem to show you, that he is faithless. May not all this have been some part played for apurpose by the woman?"

"It takes two to play such parts, Betty. If you had seen----"

"If I had seen, _I_ should have known whether it was but a part or lovemade in good earnest; but you are too innocent to judge. What said themarquis all this while, and the priest?"

"Little or nothing, only smiled at each other, and at length, when itgrew dark and we could see no more, asked me if I did not think that itwas time to go--me! whom they had kept there all that while to be thewitness of my own shame. "

"Yes, they kept you there--did they not?--and brought you there just atthe right time--did they not?--and shut me out of the tower so that Imight not be with you--oh! and all the rest. Now, if you have anyjustice in you, Cousin, you will hear Peter's side of this story beforeyou judge him. "

"I have judged him, " answered Margaret coldly, "and, oh! I wish that Iwere dead. "

Margaret rose from her seat and, stepping to the window-place in thetower which was built upon the edge of a hill, searched the giddy depthbeneath with her eyes, where, two hundred feet below, the white line ofa roadway showed faintly in the moonlight. 

"It would be easy, would it not, " she said, with a strained laugh, "justto lean out a little too far upon this stone, and then one swift rushand darkness--or light--for ever--which, I wonder?"

"Light, I think, " said Betty, jerking her back from the window--"thelight of hell fire, and plenty of it, for that would be self-murder, nothing else, and besides, what would one look like on that road?Cousin, don't be a fool. If you are right, it isn't you who ought to goout of that window; and if you are wrong, then you would only make a badbusiness worse. Time enough to die when one must, say I--which, perhaps, will be soon enough. Meanwhile, if I were you, I would try to speak toMaster Peter first, if only to let him know what I thought of him. "

"Mayhap, " answered Margaret, sinking back into a chair, "but Isuffer--how can you know what I suffer?"

"Why should I not know?" asked Betty. "Are you the only woman in theworld who has been fool enough to fall in love? Can I not be as much inlove as you are? You smile, and think to yourself that the poorrelation, Betty, cannot feel like her rich cousin. But I do--I do. Iknow that he is a villain, but I love this marquis as much as you hatehim, or as much as you love Peter, because I can't help myself; it is myluck, that's all. But I am not going to throw myself out of a window; Iwould rather throw him out and square our reckoning, and that I swearI'll do, in this way or the other, even if it should cost me what Idon't want to lose--my life, " And Betty drew herself up beneath thesilver lamp with a look upon her handsome, determined face, which was solike Margaret's and yet so different, that, could he have seen it, mightwell have made Morella regret that he had chosen this woman for a tool. 

While Margaret studied her wonderingly she heard a sound, and glanced upto see, standing before them, none other than the beautiful Spaniard, orMoor, for she knew not which she was, Inez, that same woman whom, fromher hiding-place in the tower, she had watched with Peter in the garden. 

"How did you come here?" she asked coldly. 

"Through the door, Seņora, that was left unlocked, which is not wise ofthose who wish to talk privately in such a place as this, " she answeredwith a humble curtsey. 

"The door is still unlocked, " said Margaret, pointing towards it. 

"Nay, Seņora, you are mistaken; here is its key in my hand. I pray youdo not tell your lady to put me out, which, being so strong, she wellcan do, for I have words to say to you, and if you are wise you willlisten to them. "

Margaret thought a moment, then answered:

"Say on, and be brief. "

CHAPTER XVI

BETTY SHOWS HER TEETH

"Seņora, " said Inez, "you think that you have something against me. "

"No, " answered Margaret, "you are--what you are; why should I blameyou?"

"Well, against the Seņor Brome then?"

"Perhaps, but that is between me and him. I will not discuss it withyou. "

"Seņora, " went on Inez, with a slow smile, "we are both innocent of whatyou thought you saw. "

"Indeed; then who is guilty?"

"The Marquis of Morella. "

Margaret made no answer, but her eyes said much. 

"Seņora, you do not believe me, nor is it wonderful. Yet I speak thetruth. What you saw from the tower was a play in which the Seņor Brometook his part badly enough, as you may have noticed, because I told himthat my life hung on it. I have nursed him through a sore sickness, Seņora, and he is not ungrateful. "

"So I judged; but I do not understand you. "

"Seņora, I am a slave in this house, a discarded slave. Perhaps you canguess the rest, it is a common story here. I was offered my freedom at aprice, that I should weave myself into this man's heart, I who am heldfair, and make him my lover. If I failed, then perhaps I should be soldas a slave--perhaps worse. I accepted--why should I not? It was a smallthing to me. On the one hand, life, freedom, and wealth, an hidalgo ofgood blood and a gallant friend for a little while, and, on the other, the last shame or blackness which doubtless await me now--if I am foundout. Seņora, I failed, who in truth did not try hard to succeed. The manlooked on me as his nurse, no more, and to me he was one very sick, nomore. Also, we grew to be true friends, and in this way or in that Ilearned all his story, learned also why the trap was baited thus--thatyou might be deceived and fall into a deeper trap. Seņora, I could notexplain it all to him, indeed, in that chamber where we were spied on, Ihad but little chance. Still, it was necessary that he should seem to bewhat he is not, so I took him into the garden and, knowing well whowatched us, made him act his part, well enough to deceive you itwould seem. "

"Still I do not understand, " said Margaret more softly. "You say thatyour life or welfare hung on this shameful business. Then why do youreveal it to me now?"

"To save you from yourself, Seņora, to save my friend the Seņor Brome, and to pay back Morella in his own coin. "

"How will you do these things?"

"The first two are done, I think, but the third is difficult. It is ofthat I come to speak with you, at great risk. Indeed, had not my masterbeen summoned to the court of the Moorish king I could not have come, and he may return at any time. "

"Have you some plan?" asked Margaret, leaning towards her eagerly. 

"No plan as yet, only an idea. " She turned and looked at Betty, adding, "This lady is your cousin, is she not, though of a different station, and somewhat far away?"

Margaret nodded. 

"You are not unlike, " went on Inez, "of much the same height and shape, although the Seņora Betty is stronger built, and her eyes are blue andher hair golden, whereas your eyes are black and your hair chestnut. Beneath a veil, or at night, it would not be easy to tell you apart ifyour hands were gloved and neither of you spoke above a whisper. "

"Yes, " said Margaret, "what then?"

"Now the Seņora Betty comes into the play, " replied Inez. "Seņora Betty, have you understood our talk?"

"Something, not quite all, " answered Betty. 

"Then what you do not understand your lady must interpret, and be notangry with me, I pray you, if I seem to know more of you and youraffairs than you have ever told me. Render my words now, Dona Margaret. "

Then, after this was done, and she had thought awhile, Inez continuedslowly, Margaret translating from Spanish into English whenever Bettycould not understand:

"Morella made love to you in England, Seņora Betty--did he not?--and wonyour heart as he has won that of many another woman, so that you came tobelieve that he was carrying you off to marry you, and not your cousin?"

"What affair is that of yours, woman?" asked Betty, flushing angrily. 

"None at all, save that I could tell much such another story, if youcared to listen. But hear me out, and then answer me a question, orrather, answer the question first. Would you like to be avenged uponthis high-born knave?"

"Avenged?" answered Betty, clenching her hands and hissing the wordsthrough her firm, white teeth. "I would risk my life for it. "

"As I do. It seems that we are of one mind there. Then I think thatperhaps I can show you a way. Look now, your cousin has seen certainthings which women placed as she is do not like to see. She is jealous, she is angry--or was until I told her the truth. Well, to-night orto-morrow, Morella will come to her and say, 'Are you satisfied? Do youstill refuse me in favour of a man who yields his heart to the firstlight-of-love who tempts him? Will you not be my wife?' What if sheanswer, 'Yes, I will. ' Nay, be silent both of you, and hear me out. Whatif then there should be a secret marriage, _and the Seņora Betty shouldchance to wear the bride's veil_, while the Dona Margaret, in the robeof Betty, was let go with the Seņor Brome and her father?"

Inez paused, watching them both, and playing with the fan she held, while, the rendering of her words finished, Margaret and Betty stared ather and at each other, for the audacity and fearfulness of this plottook their breath away. It was Margaret who spoke the first. 

"You must not do it, Betty, " she said. "Why, when the man found you out, he would kill you. " But Betty took no heed of her, and thought on. Atlength she looked up and answered:

"Cousin, it was my vain folly that brought you all into this trouble, therefore I owe something to you, do I not? I am not afraid of theman--he is afraid of me; and if it came to killing--why, let Inez lendme that knife of hers, and I think that perhaps I should give the firstblow. And--well, I think I love him, rascal though he is, and, afterwards, perhaps we might make it up, who can say?--while, if not----But tell me, you, Inez, should I be his legal wife according to the lawof this land?"

"Assuredly, " answered Inez, "if a priest married you and he placed thering upon your hand and named you wife. Then, when once the words ofblessing have been said, the Pope alone can loose that knot, which maybe risked, for there would be much to explain, and is this a tale thatMorella, a good servant of the Church, would care to take to Rome?"

"It would be a trick, " broke in Margaret--"a very ugly trick. "

"And what was it he played on me and you?" asked Betty. "Nay, I'llchance it, and his rage, if only I can be sure that you and Peter willgo free, and your father with you. "

"But what of this Inez?" asked Margaret, bewildered. 

"She will look after herself, " answered Inez. "Perchance, if all goeswell, you will let me ride with you. And now I dare stop no longer, I goto see your father, the Seņor Castell, and if anything can be arranged, we will talk again. Meanwhile, Dona Margaret, your affianced is nearlywell again at last and sends his heart's love to you, and, I counselyou, when Morella speaks turn a gentle ear to him. "

Then with another deep curtsey she glided to the door, unlocked it, andleft the room. 

 * * * * *

An hour later Inez was being led by an old Jew, dressed in a Moslem robeand turban, through one of the most tortuous and crowded parts ofGranada. It would seem that this Jew was known there, for hisappearance, accompanied by a veiled woman, apparently caused no surpriseto those followers of the Prophet that he met, some of whom, indeed, saluted him with humility. 

"These children of Mahomet seem to love you, Father Israel, " said Inez. 

"Yes, yes, my dear, " answered the old fellow with a chuckle; "they oweme money, that is why, and I am getting it in before the great war comeswith the Spaniards, so they would sweep the streets for me with theirbeards--all of which is very good for the plans of our friend yonder. Ah! he who has crowns in his pocket can put a crown upon his head; thereis nothing that money will not do in Granada. Give me enough of it, andI will buy his sultana from the king. "

"This Castell has plenty?" asked Inez shortly. 

"Plenty, and more credit. He is one of the richest men in England. Butwhy do you ask? He would not think of you, who is too troubled aboutother things. "

Inez only laughed bitterly, but did not resent the words. Why shouldshe? It was not worth while. 

"I know, " she answered, "but I mean to earn some of it all the same, and I want to be sure that there is enough for all of us. "

"There is enough, I have told you there is enough and to spare, "answered the Hebrew Israel as he tapped on a door in adirty-looking wall. 

It opened as though by magic, and they crossed a paved patio, orcourtyard, to a house beyond, a tumble-down place of Moorisharchitecture. 

"Our friend Castell, being in seclusion just now, has hired the cellarfloor, " said Israel with a chuckle to Inez, "so be pleased to follow me, and take care of the rats and beetles. "

Then he led her down a rickety stair which opened out of the courtyardinto vaults filled with vats of wine, and, having lit a taper, throughthese, shutting and locking sundry doors behind him, to what appeared tobe a very damp wall covered with cobwebs, and situated in a dark cornerof a wine-cave. Here he stopped and tapped again in his peculiarfashion, whereon a portion of the wall turned outwards on a pivot, leaving an opening through which they could pass. 

"Well managed, isn't it?" chuckled Israel. "Who would think of lookingfor an entrance here, especially if he owed the old Jew money? Come in, my pretty, come in. "

Inez followed him into this darksome hole, and the wall closed behindthem. Then, taking her by the arm, he turned first to the right, next tothe left, opened a door with a key which he carried, and, behold, theystood in a beautifully furnished room well lighted with lamps, for itseemed to have no windows. "Wait here, " he said to Inez, pointing to acouch on which she sat herself down, "while I fetch my lodger, " and hevanished through some curtains at the end of the room. 

Presently these opened again, and Israel reappeared through them withCastell, dressed now in Moorish robes, and looking somewhat pale fromhis confinement underground, but otherwise well enough. Inez rose andstood before him, throwing back her veil that he might see her face. Castell searched her for a while with his keen eyes that notedeverything, then said:

"You are the lady with whom I have been in communication through ourfriend here, are you not? Prove it to me now by repeating my messages. "

Inez obeyed, telling him everything. 

"That is right, " he said, "but how do I know that I can trust you? Iunderstand you are, or have been, the lover of this man Morella, andsuch an one he might well employ as a spy to bring us all to ruin. "

"Is it not too late to ask such questions, Seņor? If I am not to betrusted, already you and your people are in the hollow of my hand?"

"Not at all, not at all, my dear, " said Israel. "If we see the slightestcause to doubt you, why, there are many great vats in this place, one ofwhich, at a pinch, would serve you as a coffin, though it would be apity to spoil the good wine. "

Inez laughed as she answered:

"Save your wine, and your time too. Morella has cast me off, and I hatehim, and wish to escape from him and rob him of his prize. Also, Idesire money to live on afterwards, and this you must give to me or Ido not stir, or rather the promise of it, for you Jews keep your word, and I do not ask a maravedi from you until I have played my part. "

"And then how many maravedis do you ask, young woman?"

Inez named a sum, at the mention of which both of them opened theireyes, and old Israel exclaimed drily:

"Surely--surely you must be one of us. "

"No, " she answered, "but I try to follow your example, and, if I am tolive at all, it shall be in comfort. "

"Quite so, " said Castell, "we understand. But now tell us, what do youpropose to do for this money?"

"I propose to set you, your daughter, the Dona Margaret, and her lover, the Seņor Brome, safe and free outside the walls of Granada, and toleave the Marquis of Morella married to another woman. "

"What other woman? Yourself?" asked Castell, fixing on this last pointin the programme. 

"No, Seņor, not for all the wealth of both of you. To your dependent andyour daughter's relative, the handsome Betty. "

"How will you manage that?" exclaimed Castell, amazed. 

"These cousins are not unlike, Seņor, although the link of blood betweenthem is so thin. Listen now, I will tell you. " And she explained theoutlines of her plan. 

"A bold scheme enough, " said Castell, when she had finished, "but evenif it can be done, would that marriage hold?"

"I think so, " answered Inez, "if the priest knew--and he could bebribed--and the bride knows. But if not, what would it matter, sinceRome alone can decide the question, and long before that is done thefates of all of us will be settled. "

"Rome--or death, " said Castell; and Inez read what he was afraid of inhis eyes. 

"Your Betty takes her chance, " she replied slowly, "as many a one hasdone before her with less cause. She is a woman with a mind as strong asher body. Morella made her love him and promised to marry her. Then heused her to steal your daughter, and she learned that she had been nomore than a stalking-heifer, from behind which he would net the whiteswan. Do you not think, therefore, that she has something to pay himback, she through whom her beloved mistress and cousin has been broughtinto all this trouble? If she wins, she becomes the wife of a grandee ofSpain, a marchioness; and if she loses, well, she has had her fling fora high stake, and perhaps her revenge. At least she is willing to takeher chance, and, meanwhile, all of you can be gone. "

Castell looked doubtfully at the Jew Israel, who stroked his white beardand said:

"Let the woman set out her scheme. At any rate she is no fool, and it isworth our hearing, though I fear that at the best it must be costly. "

"I can pay, " said Castell, and motioned to Inez to proceed. 

As yet, however, she had not much more to say, save that they must havegood horses at hand, and send a messenger to Seville, whither the_Margaret_ had been ordered to proceed, bidding her captain hold hisship ready to sail at any hour, should they succeed in reaching him. 

These things, then, they arranged, and a while later Inez and Israeldeparted, the former carrying with her a bag of gold. 

That same night Inez sought the priest, Henriques of Motril, in thathall of Morella's palace which was used as a private chapel, saying thatshe desired to speak with him under pretence of making confession, forthey were old friends--or rather enemies. 

As it chanced she found the holy father in a very ill humour. Itappeared that Morella also was in a bad humour with Henriques, havingheard that it was he who had possessed himself of the jewels in hisstrong-box on the _San Antonio_. Now he insisted upon his surrenderingeverything, and swore, moreover, that he would hold him responsible forall that his people had stolen from the ship, and this because he saidthat it was his fault that Peter Brome had escaped the sea and come onto Granada. 

"So, Father, " said Inez, "you, who thought yourself rich, are pooragain. "

"Yes, my daughter, and that is what chances to those who put their faithin princes. I have served this marquis well for many years--to my soul'shurt, I fear me--hoping that he who stands so high in the favour of theChurch would advance me to some great preferment. But instead, what doeshe do? He robs me of a few trinkets that, had I not found them, the seawould have swallowed or some thief would have taken, and declares me hisdebtor for the rest, of which I know nothing. "

"What preferment did you want, Father? I see that you have one in yourmind. "

"Daughter, a friend had written to me from Seville that if I have ahundred gold doubloons to pay for it, he can secure me the place of asecretary in the Holy Office where I served before as a familiar untilthe marquis made me his chaplain, and gave the benefice of Motril, whichproved worth nothing, and many promises that are worth less. Now thosetrinkets would fetch thirty, and I have saved twenty, and came here toborrow the other fifty from the marquis, to whom I have done so manygood turns--as _you_ know well, Inez. You see the end of that quest, "and he groaned angrily. 

"It is a pity, " said Inez thoughtfully, "since those who serve theInquisition save many souls, do they not, including their own? Forinstance, " she added, and the priest winced at the words, "I rememberthat they saved the soul of my own sister and would have saved mine, hadI been--what shall I say?--more--more prejudiced. Also, they get apercentage of the goods of wicked heretics, and so become rich and ableto advance themselves. "

"That is so, Inez. It was the chance of a lifetime, especially to onewho, like myself, hates heretics. But why speak of it now when thatcursed, dissolute marquis----" and he checked himself. 

Inez looked at him. 

"Father, " she asked, "if I happen to be able to find you those hundredgold doubloons, would you do something for me?"

The priest's foxy face lit up. 

"I wonder what there is that I would not do, my daughter!"

"Even if it brought you into a quarrel with the marquis?

"Once I was a secretary to the Inquisition of Seville, he would havemore reason to fear me than I him. Aye, and fear me he should, who bearhim no love, " answered the priest with a snarl. 

"Then listen, Father. I have not made my confession yet; I have not toldyou, for instance, that I also hate this marquis, and with goodcause--though perhaps you know that already. But remember that if youbetray me, you will never see those hundred gold doubloons, and someother holy priest will be appointed secretary at Seville. Also worsethings may happen to you. "

"Proceed, my daughter, " he said unctuously; "are we not in theconfessional--or near it?"

So she told him all the plot, trusting to the man's avarice and othermatters to protect her, for Inez hated Fray Henriques bitterly, and knewhim from the crown of his shaven head to the soles of his erring feet, as she had good cause to do. Only she did not tell him whence the moneywas to come. 

"That does not seem a very difficult matter, " he said, when she hadfinished. "If a man and a woman, unwed and outside the prohibiteddegrees, appear before me to be married, I marry them, and once the ringhas passed and the office is said, married they are till death or thePope part them. "

"And suppose that the man thinks he is marrying another woman, Father?"

The priest shrugged his shoulders. 

"He should know whom he is marrying; that is his affair, not theChurch's or mine. The names need not be spoken too loudly, my daughter. "

"But you would give me a writing of the marriage with them set outplain?"

"Certainly. To you or to anybody else; why should I not?--that is, if Iwere sure of this wedding fee. "

Inez lifted her hand, and showed beneath it a little pile of tendoubloons. 

"Take them, Father, " she said; "they will not be counted in thecontract. There are others where they came from, whereof twenty will bepaid before the marriage, and eighty when I have that writingat Seville. "

He swept up the coins and pocketed them, saying:

"I will trust you, Inez. "

"Yes, " she answered as she left him, "we must trust each other now--mustwe not?--seeing that you have the money, and both our necks are in thesame noose. Be here, Father, to-morrow at the same time, in case I havemore confessions to make, for, alas! this is a sinful world, as youshould know very well. "

CHAPTER XVII

THE PLOT

On the morning following these conversations, just after Margaret andBetty had breakfasted, Inez appeared, and, as before, locked the doorbehind her. 

"Seņoras, " she said calmly, "I have arranged that little business ofwhich I spoke to you yesterday, or at least the first act of the play, since it remains for you to write the rest. Now I am sent to say thatthe noble Marquis of Morella craves leave to see you, Dona Margaret, andwithin an hour. So there is no time to lose. "

"Tell us what you have done, Inez?" said Margaret. 

"I have seen your worshipful father, Dona Margaret; here is the token ofit, which you will do well to destroy when you have read. " And shehanded her a slip of paper, whereon was written in her father's writing, and in English:

"BELOVED DAUGHTER, "This messenger, who I think may be trusted by you, has madearrangements with me which she will explain. I approve, though the riskis great. Your cousin is a brave girl, but, understand, I do not forceher to this dangerous enterprise. She must choose her own road, only Ipromise that if she escapes and we live I will not forget her deed. Themessenger will bring me your answer. God be with us all, and farewell. 

"J. C. "

Margaret read this letter first to herself and then aloud to Betty, and, having read, tore it into tiny fragments and threw them from theturret window. 

"Speak now, " she said; and Inez told her everything. 

"Can you trust the priest?" asked Margaret, when she had finished. 

"He is a great villain, as I have reason to know; still, I think I can, "she answered, "while the cabbage is in front of the donkey's nose--Imean until he has got all the money. Also, he has committed himself bytaking some on account. But before we go further, the question is--doesthis lady play?" and she pointed to Betty. 

"Yes, I play, " said Betty, when she understood everything. "I won't goback upon my word; there is too much at stake. It is an ugly businessfor me, I know well enough, but, " she added slowly, setting her firmmouth, "I have debts to pay all round, and I am no Spanish putty to besqueezed flat--like some people, " and she glanced at the humble-lookingInez. "So, before all is done, it may be uglier for him. "

When she had mastered the meaning of this speech the soft-voiced Inezlifted her gentle eyes in admiration, and murmured a Spanish proverb asto what is supposed to occur when Satan encounters Beelzebub in ahigh-walled lane. Then, being a lady of resource and experience, theplot having been finally decided upon, not altogether with Margaret'sapproval, who feared for Betty's fate when it should be discovered, Inezbegan to instruct them both in various practical expedients, by means ofwhich the undoubted general resemblance of these cousins might beheightened and their differences toned down. To this end she promised tofurnish them with certain hair-washes, pigments, and articlesof apparel. 

"It is of small use, " said Betty, glancing first at herself and then atthe lovely Margaret, "for even if they change skins, who can make thecalf look like the fawn, though they chance to feed in the same meadow?Still, bring your stuffs and I will do my best; but I think that a thickveil and a shut mouth will help me more than any of them, also a longgown to hide my feet. "

"Surely they are charming feet, " said Inez politely, adding to herself, "to carry you whither you wish to go. " Then she turned to Margaret andreminded her that the marquis desired to see her, and waited forher answer. 

"I will not meet him alone, " said Margaret decidedly. 

"That is awkward, " answered Inez, "as I think he has words to say to youwhich he does not wish others to hear, especially the seņora yonder, "and she nodded towards Betty. 

"I will not meet him alone, " repeated Margaret. 

"Yet, if things are to go forward as we have arranged, you must meethim, Dona Margaret, and give him that answer which he desires. Well, Ithink it can be arranged. The court below is large. Now, while you andthe marquis talk at one end of it, the Seņora Betty and I might walk outof earshot at the other. She needs more instruction in our Spanishtongue; it would be a good opportunity to begin our lessons. "

"But what am I to say to him?" asked Margaret nervously. 

"I think, " answered Inez, "that you must copy the example of thatwonderful actor, the Seņor Peter, and play a part as well as you saw himdo, or even better, if possible. "

"It must be a very different part then, " replied Margaret, stiffeningvisibly at certain recollections. 

The gentle Inez smiled as she said:

"Yes, but surely you can seem jealous, for that is natural to us all, and you can yield by degrees, and you can make a bargain as the price ofyourself in marriage. "

"What exact bargain should I make?"

"I think that you shall be securely wed by a priest of your own Church, and that letters, signed by that priest and announcing the marriage, shall be delivered to the Archbishop of Seville, and to their MajestiesKing Ferdinand and Queen Isabella. Also, of course, you must arrangethat the Seņor Brome and your father, the Seņor Castell, and your cousinBetty here shall be escorted safe out of Granada before your marriage, and that you shall see them pass through the gate beneath your turretwindow, swearing that thereafter, at nightfall of the same day, you willsuffer the priest to do his office and make you Morella's wife. By thattime they should be well upon their road, and, after the rite iscelebrated, I will receive the signed papers from the priest and followthem, leaving the false bride to play her part as best she can. "

Again Margaret hesitated; the thing seemed too complicated and full ofdanger. But while she thought, a knock came on the door. 

"That is to tell me that Morella awaits your answer in the court, " saidInez. "Now, which is it to be? Remember that there is no other chance ofescape for you, or the others, from this guarded town--at least I cansee none. "

"I accept, " said Margaret hurriedly, "and God help us all, for we shallneed Him. "

"And you, Seņora Betty?"

"Oh! I made up my mind long ago, " answered Betty coolly. "We can onlyfail, when we shall be no worse off than before. "

"Good. Then play your parts well, both of you. After all, they shouldnot be so difficult, for the priest is safe, and the marquis will neverscent such a trick as this. Fix the marriage for this day week, as Ihave much to think of and make ready, " and she went. 

 * * * * *

Half an hour later Margaret sat under the cool arcade of the marblecourt, and with her, Morella, while upon the further side of itssplashing fountain and out of earshot, Betty and Inez walked to and froin the shadow. 

"You sent for me, Marquis, " said Margaret presently, "and, being yourprisoner, I have come because I must. What is your pleasure with me?"

"Dona Margaret, " he answered gravely, "can you not guess? Well, I willtell you, lest you should guess wrong. First, it is to ask yourforgiveness as I have done before, for the many crimes to which my love, my true love, for you has driven me. This time yesterday I knew wellthat I could expect none. To-day I dare to hope that it may beotherwise. "

"Why so, Marquis?"

"Last evening you looked into a certain garden and saw two peoplewalking there--yonder is one of them, " and he nodded towards Inez. "Shall I go on?"

"No, " she answered in a low voice, and passing her hands before herface. "Only tell me who and what is that woman?" and in her turn shelooked towards Inez. 

"Is it necessary?" he asked. "Well, if you wish to know, she is aSpaniard of good blood who with her sister was taken captive by theMoors. A certain priest, who took an interest in the sister, brought herto my notice and I bought her from them; so, as her parents were deadand she had nowhere else to go, she elected to stay in my house. Youmust not judge such things too harshly; they are common here. Also, shehas been very useful to me, being clever, for through her I haveintelligence of many things. Of late, however, she has grown tired ofthis life, and wishes to earn her freedom, which I have promised her inreturn for certain services, and to leave Granada. "

"Was the nursing of my betrothed one of those services, Marquis?"

He shrugged his shoulders. 

"As you will, Seņora. Certainly I forgive her this indiscretion, if atlast she has shown you the truth about that man for whose sake you haveendured so much. Margaret, now that you know him for what he is, say, doyou still cling to him?"

She rose and walked a few steps down the arcade, then came back andasked:

"Are you any better than this fallen man?"

"I think so, Margaret, for since I knew you I am a risen man; all my oldself is left behind me, I am a new creature, and my sins have been foryou, not against you. Hear me, I beseech you. I stole you away, it istrue, but I have done you no harm, and will do you none. For your sakealso I have spared your father when I had but to make a sign to removehim from my path. I suffered him to escape from the prison where he wasconfined, and I know the place where he thinks himself hidden to-dayamong the Jews of Granada. Also, I nursed Peter Brome back to life, whenat any hour I could have let him die, lest afterwards I might have it onmy conscience that, but for my love for you, he might perhaps still beliving. Well, you have seen him as he is, and what say you now? Will youstill reject me? Look on me, " and he drew up his tall and stately shape, "and tell me, am I such a man as a woman should be ashamed to own ashusband? Remember, too, that I have much to give you in this land ofSpain, whereof you shall become one of the greatest ladies, or perhapsin the future, " he added significantly, "even more. War draws near, Margaret; this city and all its rich territories will fall into thehands of Spain, and afterwards I shall be their governor, almosttheir king. "

"And if I refuse?" asked Margaret. 

"Then, " he answered sternly, "you bide here, and that false lover ofyours bides here, and your father bides here to take the chance of waras Christian captives with a thousand others who languish in thedungeons of the Alhambra, while, my mission ended, I go hence to play mypart in battle amongst my peers, as one of the first captains of theirMost Catholic Majesties. Yet it is not to your fears that I wouldappeal, but to your heart, for I seek your love and your dearcompanionship through life, and, if I can help it, desire to work youand yours no harm. "

"You desire to work them no harm. Then, if I were to fall in with yourhumour, would you let them go in safety?--I mean my father and the SeņorBrome and my cousin Betty, whom, if you were as honest as you pretend tobe, you should ask to bide with you as your wife, and not myself. "

"The last I cannot do, " he answered, flushing. "God knows I meant her nohurt, and only used her to keep near to and win news of you, thinkingher, to tell truth, somewhat other than she is. "

"Are no women honest here in Spain, then, my lord Marquis?"

"A few, a very few, Dona Margaret. But I erred about Betty, whom I tookfor a simple serving-girl, and to whom, if need be, I am ready to makeall amends. "

"Except that which is due to a woman you have asked to be your wife, andwho in our country could claim the fulfilment of your promise, ordeclare you shamed. But you have not answered. Would they go free?"

"As free as air--especially the Seņora Betty, " he added with a littlesmile, "for to speak truth, there is something in that woman's eyeswhich frightens me at times. I think that she has a long memory. Withinan hour of our marriage you shall look down from your window and seethem depart under escort, every one, to go whither they will. "

"Nay, " answered Margaret, "it is not enough. I should need to see themgo before, and then, if I consented, not till the sun had set would Ipay the price of their ransom. "

"Then do you consent? he asked eagerly. 

"My lord Marquis, it would seem that I must. My betrothed has played mefalse. For a month or more I have been prisoner in your palace, which Iunderstand has no good name, and, if I refuse, you tell me that all ofus will be cast into yonder dungeons to be sold as slaves or dieprisoners of the Moors. My lord Marquis, fate and you leave me butlittle choice. On this day week I will marry you, but blame me not ifyou find me other than you think, as you have found my cousin whom youbefooled. Till then, also, I pray you that you will leave me quiteuntroubled. If you have arrangements to make or commands to send, thewoman Inez yonder will serve as messenger, for of her I know the worst. "

"I will obey you in all things, Dona Margaret, " he answered humbly. "Doyou desire to see your father or--" and he paused. 

"Neither of them, " she answered. "I will write to them and send myletters by this Inez. Why should I see them, " she added passionately, "who have done with the old days when I was free and happy, and am aboutto become the wife of the most noble Marquis of Morella, that honourablegrandee of Spain, who tricked a poor girl by a false promise ofmarriage, and used her blind and loving folly to trap and steal me frommy home? My lord, till this day week I bid you farewell, " and, walkingfrom the arcade to the fountain, she called aloud to Betty to accompanyher to their rooms. 

The week for which Margaret had bargained had gone by. All was prepared. Inez had shown to Morella the letters that his bride to be wrote to herfather and to Peter Brome; also the answers, imploring and passionate, to the same. But there were other letters and other answers which shehad not shown. It was afternoon, swift horses were ready in thecourtyard, and with them an escort, while, disguised as Moors, Castelland Peter waited under guard in a chamber close at hand. Betty, dressedin the robes of a Moorish woman, and thickly veiled, stood beforeMorella, to whom Inez had led her. 

"I come to tell you, " she said, "that at sundown, three hours after wehave passed beneath her window, my cousin and mistress will wait to bemade your wife, but if you try to disturb her before then she will be nowife of yours, or any man's. "

"I obey, " answered Morella; "and, Seņora Betty, I pray your pardon, andthat you will accept this gift from me in token of your forgiveness. "And with a low bow he handed to her a beautiful necklace of pearls. 

"I take them, " said Betty, with a bitter laugh, "as they may serve tobuy me a passage back to England. But forgive you I do not, Marquis ofMorella, and I warn you that there is a score between us which I mayyet live to settle. You seem to have won, but God in Heaven takes noteof the wickedness of men, and in this way or in that He always pays Hisdebts. Now I go to bid farewell to my cousin Margaret, but to you I donot bid farewell, for I think that we shall meet again, " and with a sobshe let fall the veil which she had lifted above her lips to speak anddeparted with Inez, to whom she whispered as they went, "He will notlinger for any more good-byes with Betty Dene. "

They entered Margaret's room and locked the door behind them. She wasseated on a low divan wrapped in a loose robe, and by her side, glittering with silver and with gems, lay her bridal veil and garments. 

"Be swift, " said Inez to Betty, who stripped off her Moorish dress andthe long, flowing veil that was wrapped about her head, whereon it wasseen that her hair had changed greatly in colour, from yellow to darkchestnut indeed, while her eyes, ringed about with pigments, and madelustrous by drugs dropped into them, looked no longer blue, but blacklike Margaret's. Yes, and wonder of wonders, on the right side of thechin and on the back of the neck were moles, or beauty-spots, just suchas Margaret had borne there from her birth! In short, their staturebeing much the same, though Betty was more thickly built, except in thestrongest light it would not have been easy to distinguish them apart, even unveiled, for at all such arts of the altering of the looks ofwomen, Inez was an adept, and she had done her best. 

Now Margaret clothed herself in the white robes and the thick head-dressthat hid her face, all except a little crack left for the eyes to peepthrough, whilst Betty, with the help of Inez, arrayed herself in thewondrous wedding robe beset with jewels that was Morella's bridal gift, and hid her dyed tresses beneath the pearl-sewn veil. Within ten minutesall was finished, even to the dagger that Betty had tied about herbeneath her robe, and the two transformed women stood staring ateach other. 

"It is time to go, " said Inez. 

Then Margaret broke out:

"I do not like this business; I never did. When he discovers all, thatman's rage will be terrible, and he will kill her. I repent that I haveconsented to the plot. "

"It is too late to repent now, Seņora, " said Inez. 

"Cannot Betty be got away also?" asked Margaret desperately. 

"It is just possible, " answered Inez; "thus, before the marriage, according to the old custom here, I hand the cups of wine to thebridegroom and the bride. That for the marquis will be drugged, since hemust not see too clear to-night. Well, I might brew it stronger so thatwithin half an hour he would not know whether he were married or single, and then, perhaps, she might escape with me and come to join you. But itis very risky, and, of course, if we were discovered--the stitch wouldbe out of the wineskin, and the cellar floor might be stained!"

Now Betty interrupted:

"Keep your stitches whole, Cousin; if any skins are to be pricked itcan't be helped, and at least you won't have to wipe up the mess. I amnot going to run away from the man, more likely he will run away fromme. I look well in this fine dress of yours, and I mean to wear it out. Now begone--begone, before some of them come to seek me. Don't yougrieve for me; I'll lie in the bed that I have made, and if the worstcomes to the worst, I have money in my pocket--or its worth--and we willmeet again in England. Come, give my love and duty to Master Peter andyour father, and if I should see them no more, bid them think kindly ofBetty Dene, who was such a plague to them. "

Then, taking Margaret in her strong arms, she kissed her again andagain, and fairly thrust her from the room. 

But when they were gone, poor Betty sat down and cried a little, tillshe remembered that hot tears might melt the paint upon her face, and, drying them, went to the window and watched. 

A while later, from her lofty niche, she saw six Moorish horsemen ridingalong the white road to the embattled gate. After them came two men anda woman, all splendidly mounted, also dressed as Moors, and then sixother horsemen. They passed the gate which was opened for them and beganto mount the slope beyond. At the crest of it the woman halted and, turning, waved a handkerchief. Betty answered the signal, and in anotherminute they had vanished, and she was alone. 

Never did she spend a more weary afternoon. Two hours later, stillwatching at her window, she saw the Moorish escort return, and knew thatall was well, and that by now, Margaret, her lover, and her father weresafely started on their journey. So she had not risked her life in vain. 

CHAPTER XVIII

THE HOLY HERMANDAD

Down the long passages, through the great, fretted halls, across thecool marble courts, flitted Inez and Margaret. It was like a dream. Theywent through a room where women, idling or working at tapestries, lookedat them curiously. Margaret heard one of them say to another:

"Why does the Dona Margaret's cousin leave her?" And the answer, "Because she is in love with the marquis herself, and cannot bearto stay. "

"What a fool!" said the first woman. "She is good looking, and wouldonly have had to wait a few weeks. "

They passed an open door, that of Morella's own chambers. Within it hestood and watched them go by. When they were opposite to him some doubtor idea seemed to strike his mind, for he looked at them keenly, steppedforward, then, thinking better of it, or perhaps remembering Betty'sbitter tongue, halted and turned aside. That danger had gone by!

At length, none hindering them, they reached the yard where the escortand the horses waited. Here, standing under an archway, were Castell andPeter. Castell greeted Margaret in English and kissed her through herveil, while Peter, who had not seen her close since months before herode away to Dedham, stared at her with all his eyes, and began to drawnear to her, designing to find out, as he was sure he could do if oncehe touched her, whether indeed this were Margaret, or only Betty afterall. Guessing what was in his mind, and that he might reveal everything, Inez, who held a long pin in her hand with which she was fastening herveil that had come loose, pretended to knock against him, and ran thepoint deep into his arm, muttering, "Fool!" as she did so. He sprangback with an oath, the guard smiled, and she began to pray his pardon. 

Castell helped Margaret on to her horse, then mounted his own, as didPeter, still rubbing his arm, but not daring to look towards Margaret, whose hand Inez shook familiarly in farewell as though she were herequal, addressing her the while in terms of endearment such as Spanishwomen use to each other. An officer of Morella's household came andcounted them, saying:

"Two men and a woman. That is right, though I cannot see the woman'sface. "

For a moment he seemed to be about to order her to unveil, but Inezcalled to him that it was not decent before all these Moors, whereon henodded and ordered the captain to proceed. 

They rode through the arch of the castle along the roadway, through thegreat gate of the wall also, where the guard questioned their escort, stared at them, and, after receiving a present from Castell, let themgo, telling them they were lucky Christians to get alive out of Granada, as indeed they were. 

At the brow of the rise Margaret turned and waved her handkerchieftowards that high window which she knew so well. Another handkerchiefwas waved in answer, and, thinking of the lonely Betty watching themthere while she awaited the issue of her desperate venture, Margaretwent on, weeping beneath her veil. For an hour they rode forward, speaking few words to each other, till at length they came to thecross-roads, one of which ran to Malaga, and the other towards Seville. 

Here the escort halted, saying that their orders were to leave them atthis point, and asking which road they intended to take. Castellanswered that to Malaga, whereon the captain replied that they werewise, as they were less likely to meet bands of marauding thieves whocalled themselves Christian soldiers, and murdered or robbed alltravellers who fell into their hands. Then Castell offered him apresent, which he accepted gravely, as though he did him a great favour, and, after bows and salutations, they departed. 

As soon as the Moors were gone the three rode a little way towardsMalaga. Then, when there was nobody in sight, they turned across countryand gained the Seville road. At last they were alone and, haltingbeneath the walls of a house that had been burnt in some Christian raid, they spoke together freely for the first time, and oh! what a moment wasthat for all of them!

Peter pushed his horse alongside that of Margaret, crying:

"Speak, beloved. Is it truly you?"

But Margaret, taking no heed of him, leant over and, throwing her armaround her father's neck, kissed him again and again through her veil, blessing God that they had lived to meet in safety. Peter tried to kissher also; but she caused her horse to move so that he nearly fell fromhis saddle. 

"Have a care, Peter, " she said to him, "or your love of kissing willlead you into more trouble. " Whereon, guessing of what she spoke, hecoloured furiously, and began to explain at length. 

"Cease, " she said--"cease. I know all that story, for I saw you, " then, relenting, with some brief, sweet words of greeting and gratitude, gavehim her hand, which he kissed often enough. 

"Come, " said Castell, "we must push on, who have twenty miles to coverbefore we reach that inn where Israel has arranged that we should sleepto-night. We will talk as we go. " And talk they did, as well as theroughness of the road and the speed at which they must travelwould allow. 

Riding as hard as they were able, at length they came to the _venta_, orrough hostelry, just as the darkness closed in. At the sight of it theythanked God aloud, for this place was across the Moorish border, and nowthey had little to fear from Granada. The host, a half-bred Spaniard anda Christian, expected them, having received a message from Israel, withwhom he had had dealings, and gave them two rooms, rude enough, butsufficient, and good food and wine, also stabling and barley for theirhorses, bidding them sleep well and have no fear, as he and his peoplewould watch and warn them of any danger. 

Yet it was late before they slept, who had so much to say to eachother--especially Peter and Margaret--and were so happy at their escape, if only for a little while. Yet across their joy, like the sound of afuneral bell at a merry feast, came the thought of Betty and thatfateful marriage in which ere now she must have played her part. Indeed, at last Margaret knelt down and offered up prayers to Heaven that thesaints might protect her cousin in the great peril which she hadincurred for them, nor was Peter ashamed to join her in that prayer. Then they embraced--especially Peter and Margaret--and laid them down, Castell and his daughter in one room, and Peter in the other, and sleptas best they could. 

Half an hour before dawn Peter was up seeing to the horses while theothers breakfasted and packed the food that the landlord had made readyfor their journey. Then he also swallowed some meat and wine, and at thefirst break of day, having discharged their reckoning and taken a letterfrom their host to those of other inns upon the road, they pressed ontowards Seville, very thankful to find that as yet there were no signsof their being pursued. 

All that day, with short pauses to rest themselves and their horses, they rode on without accident, for the most part over a fertile plainwatered by several rivers which they crossed at fords or over bridges. As night fell they reached the old town of Oxuna, which for many hoursthey had seen set upon its hill before them, and, notwithstanding theirMoorish dress, made their way almost unobserved in the darkness to thatinn to which they had been recommended. Here, although he stared attheir garments, on finding that they had plenty of money, the landlordreceived them well enough, and again they were fortunate in securingrooms to themselves. It had been their purpose to buy Spanish clothes inthis town, but, as it happened, it was a feast day, and at night everyshop in the place was closed, so they could get none. Now, as theygreatly desired to reach Seville by the following nightfall, hopingunder cover of the darkness to find and come aboard of their ship, the_Margaret_, which they knew lay safely in the river, and had beenadvised by messenger of their intended journey, it was necessary forthem to leave Oxuna before the dawn. So, unfortunately enough as itproved, it was impossible for them to put off their Moorish robes andclothe themselves as Christians. 

They had hoped, too, that here at Oxuna Inez might overtake them, as shehad promised to do if she could, and give them tidings of what hadhappened since they left Granada. But no Inez came. So, comfortingthemselves with the thought that however hard she rode it would bedifficult for her to reach them, who had some hours' start, they leftOxuna in the darkness before any one was astir. 

Having crossed some miles of plain, they passed up through olive grovesinto hills where cork-trees grew, and here stopped to eat and let thehorses feed. Just as they were starting on again, Peter, looking round, saw mounted men--a dozen or more of them of very wild aspect--canteringthrough the trees evidently with the object of cutting them off. 

"Thieves!" he said shortly. "Ride for it. "

So they began to gallop, and their horses, although somewhat jaded, being very swift, passed in front of these men before they could regainthe road. The band shouted to them to surrender, and, as they did notstop, loosed a few arrows and pursued them, while they galloped down thehillside on to a plain which separated them from more hills also clothedwith cork-trees. This plain was about three miles wide and boggy inplaces. Still they kept well ahead of the brigands, as they took them tobe, hoping that they would give up the pursuit or lose sight of themamongst the trees. As they entered these, however, to their dismay theysaw, drawn up in front of them and right across the road, another bandof rough-looking men, perhaps twelve in all. 

"Trap!" said Peter. "We must ride through them--it is our only chance, "at the same time spurring his horse to the front and drawing his sword. 

Choosing the spot where their line was weakest he dashed through iteasily enough but next second heard a cry from Margaret, and pulled hishorse round to see that her mare had fallen, and that she and Castellwere in the hands of the thieves. Indeed, already rough men had hold ofher, and one of them was trying to tear the veil from her face. With ashout of rage Peter charged them, and struck so fierce a blow that hissword cut through the fellow's helmet into his skull, so that he felldown, dying or dead, Margaret's veil still in his hand. 

Then they rushed at him, five or six of them, and, although he woundedanother man, dragged him from his horse, and, as he lay upon his back, sprang at him to finish him before he could rise. Already their knivesand swords were over him, and he was making his farewells to life, whenhe heard a voice command them to desist and bind his arms. This wasquickly done, and he was suffered to rise from the ground to see beforehim, not Morella, as he half expected, but a man clad in fine armourbeneath his rough cloak, evidently an officer of rank. "What kind of aMoor are you, " he asked, "who dare to kill the soldiers of the HolyHermandad in the heart of the King's country?" and he pointed tothe dead man. 

"I am not a Moor, " answered Peter in his rough Spanish. "I am aChristian escaped from Granada, and I cut down that man because he wastrying to insult my betrothed, as you would have done, Seņor. I did notknow that he was a soldier of the Hermandad; I thought him a commonthief of the hills. "

This speech, or as much as he could understand of it, seemed to pleasethe officer, but before he could answer, Castell said:

"Sir Officer, the seņor is an Englishman, and does not speak yourlanguage well--"

"He uses his sword well, anyhow, " interrupted the captain, glancing atthe dead soldier's cloven helm and head. 

"Yes, Sir, he is of your trade and, as the scar upon his face shows, hasfought in many wars. Sir, what he tells you is true. We are Christiancaptives escaped from Granada and flying to Seville with my daughter, towhom I pray you to do no harm, to ask for the protection of theirgracious Majesties, and to find a passage back to England. "

"You do not look like an Englishman, " answered the captain; "you looklike a Marano. "

"Sir, I cannot help my looks. I am a merchant of London, Castell byname. It is one well known in Seville and throughout this land, where Ihave large dealings, as, if I can but see him, your king himself willacknowledge. Be not deceived by our dress, which we had to put on inorder to escape from Granada, but, I beseech you, let us go onto Seville. "

"Seņor Castell, " answered the officer, "I am the Captain Arrano ofPuebla, and, since you would not stop when we called to you, and havekilled one of my best soldiers, to Seville you must certainly go, butwith me, not by yourselves. You are my prisoners, but have no fear. Noviolence shall be done to you or the lady, who must take your trials foryour deeds before the King's court, and there tell your story, trueor false. "

So, having been disarmed of their swords, they were allowed to remounttheir horses and taken on towards Seville as prisoners. 

"At least, " said Margaret to Peter, "we have nothing more to fear fromhighwaymen, and have escaped these soldiers' swords unhurt. "

"Yes, " answered Peter with a groan, "but I hoped that to-night we shouldhave slept upon the _Margaret_ while she slipped down the river towardsthe open sea, and not in a Spanish jail. Now, as fate will have it, forthe second time I have killed a man on your behalf, and all the businesswill begin again. Truly our luck is bad!"

"I think it might be worse, and I cannot blame you for that deed, "answered Margaret, remembering the rough hands of the dead soldier, whomsome of his comrades had stopped behind to bury. 

During all the remainder of that long day they rode on through theburning heat, across the rich, cultivated plain, towards the great cityof Seville, whereof the Giralda, which once had been the minaret of aMoorish mosque, towered hundreds of feet into the air before them. Atlength, towards evening, they entered the eastern suburbs of the vastcity and, passing through them and a great gate beyond, began to threadits tortuous streets. 

"Whither go we, Captain Arrano?" asked Castell presently. 

"To the prison of the Holy Hermandad to await your trial for the slayingof one of its soldiers, " answered the officer. 

"I pray that we may get there soon then, " said Peter, looking atMargaret, who, overcome with fatigue, swayed upon her saddle like aflower in the wind. 

"So do I, " muttered Castell, glancing round at the dark faces of thepeople, who, having discovered that they had killed a Spanish soldier, and taking them to be Moors, were marching alongside of them in greatnumbers, staring sullenly, or cursing them for infidels. Indeed, oncewhen they passed a square, a priest in the mob cried out, "Kill them!"whereon a number of rough fellows made a rush to pull them off theirhorses, and were with difficulty beaten back by the soldiers. 

Foiled in this attempt they began to pelt them with garbage, so thatsoon their white robes were stained and filthy. One fellow, too, threw astone which struck Margaret on the wrist, causing her to cry out anddrop her rein. This was too much for the hot-blooded Peter, who, spurring his horse alongside of him, before the soldiers couldinterfere, hit him such a buffet in the face that the man rolled uponthe ground. Now Castell thought that they would certainly be killed, butto his surprise the mob only laughed and shouted such things as "Wellhit, Moor!" "That infidel has a strong arm, " and so forth. 

Nor was the officer angry, for when the man rose, a knife in his hand, he drew his sword and struck him down again with the flat of it, saying to Peter:

"Do not sully your hand with such street swine, Seņor. "

Then he turned and commanded his men to charge the crowd ahead of them. 

So they got through these people and, after many twists and turns downside streets to avoid the main avenues, came to a great and gloomybuilding and into a courtyard through barred gates that were opened attheir approach and shut after them. Here they were ordered to dismountand their horses led away, while the officer, Arrano, entered intoconversation with the governor of the prison, a man with a stern but notunkindly face, who surveyed them with much curiosity. Presently heapproached and asked them if they could pay for good rooms, as if not hemust put them in the common cells. 

Castell answered, "Yes, " and, by way of earnest of it, produced fivepieces of gold, and giving them to the Captain Arrano, begged him todistribute them among his soldiers as a thankoffering for theirprotection of them through the streets. Also, he said loudly enough forevery one to hear, that he would be willing to compensate the relativesof the man whom Peter had killed by accident--an announcement thatevidently impressed his comrades very favourably. Indeed one of themsaid he would bear the message to his widow, and, on behalf of the rest, thanked him for his gift. Then having bade farewell to the officer, whotold them that they would meet again before the judges, they were ledthrough the various passages of the prison to two rooms, one small andone of a fair size with heavily barred windows, given water to wash in, and told that food would be brought to them. 

In due course it came, carried by jailers--meat, eggs, and wine, andglad enough were they to see it. While they ate, also the governorappeared with a notary, and, having waited till their meal was finished, began to question them. 

"Our story is long, " said Castell, "but with your leave I will tell ityou, only, I pray you, suffer my daughter, the Dona Margaret, to go torest, for she is quite outworn, and if you will you can question herto-morrow. "

The governor assenting, Margaret threw off her veil to embrace herfather, thus showing her beauty for the first time, whereat the governorand the notary stared amazed. Then having given Peter her hand to kiss, and curtseyed to the governor and the notary, she went to her bed in thenext room, which opened out of that in which they were. 

When she had gone, Castell told his story of how his daughter had beenkidnapped by the Marquis of Morella, a name that caused the governor toopen his eyes very wide, and brought from London to Granada, whitherthey, her father and her betrothed, had followed her and escaped. But ofBetty and all the business of the changed bride he said nothing. Also, knowing that these must come out in any case, he told them his name andbusiness, and those of his partners and correspondents in Seville, thefirm of Bernaldez, which was one that the governor knew well enough, and prayed that the head of that firm, the Seņor Juan Bernaldez, mightbe communicated with and allowed to visit them on the next morning. Lastly, he explained that they were no thieves or adventurers, butEnglish subjects in misfortune, and again hinted that they were bothable and willing to pay for any kindness or consideration that was shownto them, of all of which sayings the governor took note. 

Also this officer said that he would communicate with his superiors, and, if no objection were made, send a messenger to ask the SeņorBernaldez to attend at the prison on the following day. Then at lengthhe and the notary departed, and, the jailers having cleared away thefood and locked the door, Castell and Peter lay down on the beds thatthey had made ready for them, thankful enough to find themselves atSeville, even though in a prison, where indeed they slept very wellthat night. 

On the following morning they woke much refreshed, and, after they hadbreakfasted, the governor appeared, and with him none other than theSeņor Juan Bernaldez, Castell's secret correspondent and Spanishpartner, whom he had last seen some years before in England, a stout manwith a quiet, clever face, not over given to words. 

Greeting them with a deference that was not lost upon the governor, heasked whether he had leave to speak with them alone. The governorassented and went, saying he would return within an hour. As soon as thedoor was closed behind him, Bernaldez said:

"This is a strange place to meet you in, John Castell, yet I am notaltogether surprised, since some of your messages reached me throughour friends the Jews; also your ship, the _Margaret_, lies refitted inthe river, and to avoid suspicion I have been lading her slowly with acargo for England, though how you will come aboard that ship is morethan I can say. But we have no time to waste. Tell me all your story, keeping nothing back. "

So they told him everything as quickly as they could, while he listenedsilently. When they had done, he said, addressing Peter:

"It is a thousand pities, young sir, that you could not keep your handsoff that soldier, for now the trouble that was nearly done with hasbegun anew, and in a worse shape. The Marquis of Morella is a verypowerful man in this kingdom, as you may know from the fact that he wassent to London by their Majesties to negotiate a treaty with yourEnglish King Henry as to the Jews and their treatment, should any ofthem escape thither after they have been expelled from Spain. Fornothing less is in the wind, and I would have you know that theirMajesties hate the Jews, and especially the Maranos, whom already theyburn by dozens here in Seville, " and he glanced meaningly at Castell. 

"I am very sorry, " said Peter, "but the fellow handled her roughly, andI was maddened at the sight and could not help myself. This is thesecond time that I have come into trouble from the same cause. Also, Ithought that he was but a bandit. "

"Love is a bad diplomatist, " replied Bernaldez, with a little smile, "and who can count last year's clouds? What is done, is done. Now I willtry to arrange that the three of you shall be brought straight beforetheir Majesties when they sit to hear cases on the day after to-morrow. With the Queen you will have a better chance than at the hands of anyalcalde. She has a heart, if only one can get at it--that is, exceptwhere Jews and Maranos are concerned, " and again he glanced at Castell. "Meanwhile, there is money in plenty, and in Spain we ride to heaven ongold angels, " he added, alluding to that coin and the nationalcorruption. 

Before they could say more the governor returned, saying that the SeņorBernaldez' time was up, and asking if they had finished their talk. 

"Not altogether, " said Margaret. "Noble Governor, is it permitted thatthe Seņor Bernaldez should send me some Christian clothes to wear, for Iwould not appear before your judges in this soiled heathen garb, nor, Ithink, would my father or the Seņor Brome?"

The governor laughed, and said he thought that might be arranged, andeven allowed them another five minutes, while they talked of what theseclothes should be. Then he departed with Bernaldez, leaving them alone. 

It was not until the latter had gone, however, that they remembered thatthey had forgotten to ask him whether he had heard anything of the womanInez, who had been furnished with his address, but, as he had saidnothing of her, they felt sure that she could not have arrived inSeville, and once more were much afraid as to what might have happenedafter they had left Granada. 

That night, to their grief and alarm, a new trouble fell on them. Justas they finished their supper the governor appeared and said that, byorder of the Court before which they must be tried, the Seņor Brome, who was accused of murder, must be separated from them. So, in spite ofall they could say or do, Peter was led away to a separate cell, leavingMargaret weeping. 

CHAPTER XIX

BETTY PAYS HER DEBTS

Betty Dene was not a woman afflicted with fears or apprehensions. Bornof good parents, but in poverty, for six-and-twenty years she had foughther own way in a rough world and made the best of circumstances. Healthy, full-blooded, tough, affectionate, romantic, but honest in herway, she was well fitted to meet the ups and downs of life, to keep herhead above the waters of a turbulent age, and to pay back as much as shereceived from man or woman. 

Yet those long hours which she passed alone in the high turret chamber, waiting till they summoned her to play the part of a false bride, werethe worst that she had ever spent. She knew that her position was, in asense, shameful, and like to end in tragedy, and, now that she faced itin cold blood, began to wonder why she had chosen so to do. She hadfallen in love with the Spaniard almost at first sight, though it istrue that something like this had happened to her before with other men. Then he had played his part with her, till, quite deceived, she gave allher heart to him in good earnest, believing in her infatuation that, notwithstanding the difference of their place and rank, he desired tomake her his wife for her own sake. 

Afterwards came that bitter day of disillusion when she learned, asInez had said to Castell, that she was but a stalking heifer used forthe taking of the white swan, her cousin and mistress--that day when shehad been beguiled by the letter which was still hid in her garments, andfor her pains heard herself called a fool to her face. In her heart shehad sworn to be avenged upon Morella then, and now the hour had come inwhich to fulfil her oath and play him back trick for cruel trick. 

Did she still love the man? She could not say. He was pleasing to her ashe had always been, and when that is so women forgive much. This wascertain, however--love was not her guide to-night. Was it vengeance thenthat led her on? Perhaps; at least she longed to be able to say to him, "See what craft lies hid even in the bosom of an outwitted fool. "

Yet she would not have done it for vengeance' sake alone, or rather shewould have paid herself in some other fashion. No, her real reason wasthat she must discharge the debt due to Margaret and Peter, and toCastell who had sheltered her for years. She it was who had brought theminto all this woe, and it seemed but just that she should bring them outagain, even at the cost of her own life and womanly dignity. Or, perchance, all three of these powers drove her on, --love for the man ifit still lingered, the desire to be avenged upon him, and the desire tosnatch his prey from out his maw. At least she had set the game, and shewould play it out to its end, however awful that might be. 

The sun sank, the darkness closed about her, and she wondered whetherever again she would see the dawn. Her brave heart quailed a little, andshe gripped the dagger hilt beneath her splendid, borrowed robe, thinking to herself that perhaps it might be wisest to drive it into herown breast, and not wait until a balked madman did that office for her. Yet not so, for it is always time to die when one must. 

A knock came at the door, and her courage, which had sunk so low, burnedup again within her. Oh! she would teach this Spaniard that theEnglishwoman, whom he had made believe was his desired mistress, couldbe his master. At any rate, he should hear the truth before the end. 

She unlocked the door, and Inez entered bearing a lamp, by the light ofwhich she scanned her with her quiet eyes. 

"The bridegroom is ready, " she said slowly that Betty might understand, "and sends me to lead you to him. Are you afraid?"

"Not I, " answered Betty. "But tell me, how will the thing be done?"

"The marquis meets us in the ante-room to that hall which is used as achapel, and there on behalf of the household I, as the first of thewomen, give you both the cups of wine. Be sure that you drink of thatwhich I hold in my left hand, passing the cup up beneath your veil so asnot to show your face, and speak no word, lest he should recognise yourvoice. Then we shall go into the chapel, where the priest Henriqueswaits, also all the household. But that hall is great, and the lamps arefeeble, so none will know you there. By this time also the drugged winewill have begun to work upon Morella's brain, wherefore, provided thatyou use a low voice, you may safely say, 'I, Betty, wed thee, Carlos, 'not 'I, Margaret, wed thee. ' Then, when it is over, he will lead youaway to the chambers prepared for you, where, if there is any virtue inmy wine, he will sleep sound to-night, that is, as soon as the priesthas given me the marriage-lines, whereof I will hand you one copy andkeep the others. Afterwards----" and she shrugged her shoulders. 

"What becomes of you?" asked Betty, when she had fully mastered theseinstructions. 

"Oh! I and the priest start to-night for a ride together to Seville, where his money awaits him; ill company for a woman who means henceforthto be honest and rich, but better than none. Perhaps we shall meet againthere, or perhaps we shall not; at least, you know where to seek me andthe others, at the house of the Seņor Bernaldez. Now it is time. Are youready to be made a marchioness of Spain?"

"Of course, " answered Betty coolly, and they started. 

Through the empty halls and corridors they went, and oh! surely noEastern plot that had been conceived in them was quite so bold anddesperate as theirs. They reached the ante-chamber to the chapel, andtook their stand outside of the circle of light that fell from itshanging lamps. Presently a door opened, and through it came Morella, attended by two of his secretaries. He was splendidly arrayed in hisusual garb of black velvet, and about his neck hung chains of gold andjewels, and to his breast were fastened the glittering stars and orderspertaining to his rank. Never, or so thought Betty, had Morella seemedmore magnificent and handsome. He was happy also, who was about to drinkof that cup of joy which he so earnestly desired. Yes, his face showedthat he was happy, and Betty, noting it, felt remorse stirring in herbreast. Low he bowed before her, while she curtseyed to him, bending hertall and graceful form till her knee almost touched the ground. Then hecame to her and whispered in her ear:

"Most sweet, most beloved, " he said, "I thank heaven that has led me tothis joyous hour by many a rough and dangerous path. Most dear, again Ibeseech you to forgive all the sorrow and the ill that I have broughtupon you, remembering that it was done for your adored sake, that Ilove you as woman has been seldom loved, you and you only, and that toyou, and you only, will I cling until my death's day. Oh! do not trembleand shrink, for I swear that no woman in Spain shall have a better or amore loyal lord. You I will cherish alone, for you I will strive bynight and day to lift you to great honour and satisfy your every wish. Many and pleasant may the years be that we shall spend side by side, andpeaceful our ends when at last we lay us down side by side to sleepawhile and wake again in heaven, whereof the shadow lies on me to-night. Remembering the past, I do not ask much of you--as yet; still, if youare minded to give me a bridal gift that I shall prize above crowns orempires, say that you forgive me all that I have done amiss, and intoken, lift that veil of yours and kiss me on the lips. "

Betty heard this speech, whereof she only fully understood the end, andtrembled. This was a trial that she had not foreseen. Yet it must befaced, for speak she dared not. Therefore, gathering up her courage, andremembering that the light was at her back, after a little pause, asthough of modesty and reluctance, she raised the pearl-embroideredveil, and, bending forward beneath its shadow, suffered Morella to kissher on the lips. 

It was over, the veil had fallen again, and the man suspected nothing. 

"I am a good artist, " thought Inez to herself, "and that woman actsbetter than the wooden Peter. Scarcely could I have done it sowell myself. "

Then, the jealousy and hate that she could not control glittering in hersoft eyes, for she too had loved this man, and well, Inez lifted thegolden cups that had been prepared, and, gliding forward, beautiful inher broidered, Eastern robe, fell upon her knee and held them to thebridegroom and the bride. Morella took that from her right hand, andBetty that from her left, nor, intoxicated as he was already with thatfirst kiss of love, did he pause to note the evil purpose which waswritten on the face of his discarded slave. Betty, passing the cupbeneath her veil, touched it with her lips and returned it to Inez; butMorella, exclaiming, "I drink to you, sweet bride, most fair and adoredof women, " drained his to the dregs, and cast it back to Inez as a giftin such fashion that the red wine which clung to its rim stained herwhite robes like a splash of blood. 

Humbly she bowed, humbly she gathered the precious vessel from thefloor; but when she rose again there was triumph in her eyes--not hate. 

Now Morella took his bride's hand and, followed by his gentlemen andInez, walked to the curtains that were drawn as they came into the greathall beyond, where had mustered all his household, perhaps a hundred ofthem. Between their bowing ranks they passed, a stately pair, and, whilst sweet voices sang behind some hidden screen, walked onward to thealtar, where stood the waiting priest. They kneeled down upon thegold-embroidered cushions while the office of the Church was read overthem. The ring was set upon Betty's hand--scarce, it would seem, couldhe find her finger--the man took the woman to wife, the woman took theman for husband. His voice was thick, and hers was very low; of all thatlistening crowd none could hear the names they spoke. 

It was over. The priest bowed and blessed them. They signed some papers, there by the light of the altar candles. Father Henriques filled incertain names and signed them also, then, casting sand upon them, placedthem in the outstretched hand of Inez, who, although Morella neverseemed to notice, gave one to the bride, and thrust the other two intothe bosom of her robe. Then both she and the priest kissed the hands ofthe marquis and his wife, and asked his leave to be gone. He bowed hishead vaguely, and--if any had been there to listen--within ten shortminutes they might have heard two horses galloping hard towards theSeville gate. 

Now, escorted by pages and torch-bearers, the new-wed pair repassedthose dim and stately halls, the bride, veiled, mysterious, fateful; thebridegroom, empty-eyed, like one who wanders in his sleep. Thus theyreached their chamber, and its carved doors shut behind them. 

 * * * * *

It was early morning, and the serving-women who waited without that roomwere summoned to it by the sound of a silver gong. Two of them enteredand were met by Betty, no longer veiled, but wrapped in a loose robe, who said to them:

"My lord the marquis still sleeps. Come, help me dress and make readyhis bath and food. "

The women stared at her, for now that she had washed the paint from herface they knew well that this was the Seņora Betty and not the DonaMargaret, whom, they had understood, the marquis was to marry. But shechid them sharply in her bad Spanish, bidding them be swift, as shewould be robed before her husband should awake. So they obeyed her, andwhen she was ready she went with them into the great hall where many ofthe household were gathered, waiting to do homage to the new-wed pair, and greeted them all, blushing and smiling, saying that doubtless themarquis would be among them soon, and commanding them meanwhile to goabout their several tasks. 

So well did Betty play her part indeed, that, although they also werebewildered, none questioned her place or authority, who remembered thatafter all they had not been told by their lord himself which of thesetwo English ladies he meant to marry. Also, she distributed among themeaner of them a present of money on her husband's behalf and her own, and then ate food and drank some wine before them all, pledging them, and receiving their salutations and good wishes. 

When all this was done, still smiling, Betty returned to themarriage-chamber, closing its door behind her, sat her down on a chairnear the bed, and waited for the worst struggle of all--that struggle onwhich hung her life. See! Morella stirred. He sat up, gazing about himand rubbing his brow. Presently his eyes lit upon Betty, seated sternand upright in her high chair. She rose and, coming to him, kissed himand called him "Husband, " and, still half-asleep, he kissed her back. Then she sat down again in her chair and watched his face. 

It changed, and changed again. Wonder, fear, amaze, bewilderment, flitted over it, till at last he said in English:

"Betty, where is my wife?"

"Here, " answered Betty. 

He stared at her. "Nay, I mean the Dona Margaret, your cousin and mylady, whom I wed last night. And how come you here? I thought that youhad left Granada. "

Betty looked astonished. 

"I do not understand you, " she answered. "It was my cousin Margaret wholeft Granada. I stayed here to be married to you, as you arranged withme through Inez. "

His jaw dropped. 

"Arranged with you through Inez! Mother of Heaven! what do you mean?"

"Mean?" she answered--"I mean what I say. Surely"--and she rose inindignation--"you have never dared to try to play some new trickupon me?"

"Trick!" muttered Morella. "What says the woman? Is all this a dream, oram I mad?"

"A dream, I think. Yes, it must be a dream, since certainly it was to nomadman that I was wed last night. Look, " and she held before him thatwriting of marriage signed by the priest, by him, and by herself, whichstated that Carlos, Marquis of Morella, was on such a date, at Granada, duly married to the Seņora Elizabeth Dene of London in England. 

He read it twice, then sank back gasping; while Betty hid away theparchment in her bosom. 

Then presently he seemed to go mad indeed. He raved, he cursed, heground his teeth, he looked round for a sword to kill her or himself, but could find none. And all the while Betty sat still and gazed at himlike some living fate. 

At length he was weary, and her turn came. 

"Listen, " she said. "Yonder in London you promised to marry me; I haveit hidden away, and in your own writing. By agreement I fled with you toSpain. By the mouth of your messenger and former love this marriage wasarranged between us, I receiving your messages to me, and sending backmine to you, since you explained that for reasons of your own you didnot wish to speak of these matters before my cousin Margaret, and couldnot wed me until she and her father and her lover were gone fromGranada. So I bade them farewell, and stayed here alone for love of you, as I fled from London for love of you, and last night we were united, asall your household know, for but now I have eaten with them and receivedtheir good wishes. And now you dare--you dare to tell me, that I, yourwife--I, who have sacrificed everything for you, I, the Marchioness ofMorella, am _not_ your wife. Well, go, say it outside this chamber, andhear your very slaves cry 'Shame' upon you. Go, say it to your king andyour bishops, aye, and to his Holiness the Pope himself, and listen totheir answer. Why, great as you are, and rich as you are, they willhale you to a mad-house or a prison. "

Morella listened, rocking himself to and fro upon the bed, then with anoath sprang towards her, to be met by a dagger-point glinting inhis eyes. 

"Hear me again, " she said as he shrank back from that cold steel. "I amno slave and no weakling; you shall not murder me or thrust me away. Iam your wife and your equal, aye, and stronger than you in body and inmind, and I will have my rights in the face of God and man. "

"Certainly, " he said with a kind of unwilling admiration--"certainly youare no weakling. Certainly, also, you have paid back all you owe me witha Jew's interest. Or, mayhap, you are not so clever as I think, but justa strong-minded fool, and it is that accursed Inez who has settled herdebts. Oh! to think of it, " and he shook his fist in the air, "to thinkthat I believed myself married to the Dona Margaret, and find you in herplace--_you_!"

"Be silent, " she said, "you man without shame, who first fly at thethroat of your new-wedded wife and then insult her by saying that youwish you were wedded to another woman. Be silent, or I will unlock thedoor and call your own people and repeat your monstrous talk to them. "And she drew herself to her full height and stood over him on the bed. 

Morella, his first rage spent, looked at her reflectively, and notwithout a certain measure of homage. 

"I think, " he remarked, "that if he did not happen to be in love withanother woman and to believe that he had married her, you, my goodBetty, would make a useful wife to any man who wished to get on in theworld. I understood you to say that the door is locked, and if I mighthazard a guess, you have the key, as also you happen to have a dagger. Well, I find the air in this place close, and I want to go _out_. "

"Where to?" asked Betty. 

"Let us say, to join Inez. "

"What, " she asked, "would you already be running after that womanagain? Do you already forget that you are married?"

"It seems that I am not to be allowed to forget it. Now, let us bargain. I wish to leave Granada for a while, and without scandal. What are yourterms? Remember that there are two to which I will not consent. I willnot stop here with you, and you shall not accompany me. Remember also, that, although you hold the dagger at present, it is not wise of you totry to push this jest too far. "

"As you did when you decoyed me on board the _San Antonio_, " said Betty. "Well, our honeymoon has not begun too sweetly, and I do not mind if yougo away for a while--to look for Inez. Swear now that you mean me noharm, and that you will not plot my death or disgrace, or in any wayinterfere with my liberty or position here in Granada. Swear it on theRood. " And she took down a silver crucifix that hung upon the wall overthe bed and handed it to him. For she knew Morella's superstitions, andthat if once he swore upon this symbol he dare not break his oath. 

"And if I will not swear?" he asked sullenly. 

"Then, " she answered, "you stop here until you do, you who are anxiousto be gone. I have eaten food this morning, you have not; I have adagger, you have none; and, being as we are, I am sure that no one willventure to disturb us until Inez and your friend the priest have gonefurther than you can follow. "

"Very well, I will swear, " he said, and he kissed the crucifix and threwit down, "You can stop here and rule my house in Granada, and I will doyou no mischief, nor trouble you in any way. But if you come out ofGranada, then we cross swords. "

"You mean that you intend to leave this city? Then, here is paper andink. Be so good as to sign an order to the stewards of your estates, within the territories of the Moorish king, to pay all their revenue tome during your absence, and to your servants to obey me in everything. "

"It is easy to see that you were brought up in the house of a Jewmerchant, " said Morella, biting the pen and considering this woman who, whether she were hawk or pigeon, knew so well how to feather her nest. "Well, if I grant you this position and these revenues, will you leaveme alone and cease to press other claims upon me?"

Now Betty, bethinking her of those papers that Inez had carried awaywith her, and that Castell and Margaret would know well how to use themif there were need, bethinking her also that if she pushed him too farat the beginning she might die suddenly as folk sometimes did inGranada, answered:

"It is much to ask of a deluded woman, but I still have some pride, andwill not thrust myself in where it seems I am not wanted. Therefore, sobe it. Till you seek me or send for me, I will not seek you so long asyou keep your bargain. Now write the paper, sign it, and call in yoursecretaries to witness the signature. "

"In whose favour must I word it?" he asked. 

"In that of the Marquessa of Morella, " she answered, and he, seeing aloophole in the words, obeyed her, since if she were not his wife thiswriting would have no value. 

Somehow he must be rid of this woman. Of course he might cause her to bekilled; but even in Granada people could not kill one to whom they hadseemed to be just married without questions being asked. Moreover, Bettyhad friends, and he had enemies who would certainly ask them if shevanished away. No, he would sign the paper and fight the caseafterwards, for he had no time to lose. Margaret had slipped away fromhim, and if once she escaped from Spain he knew that he would never seeher more. For aught he knew, she might already have escaped or bemarried to Peter Brome. The very thought of it filled him with madness. There had been a conspiracy against him; he was outwitted, robbed, befooled. Well, hope still remained--and vengeance. He could still fightPeter, and perhaps kill him. He could hand over Castell, the Jew, to theInquisition. He could find a way to deal with the priest Henriques andthe woman Inez, and, perhaps, if fortune favoured him he could getMargaret back into his power. 

Oh! yes, he would sign anything if only thereby he was set at libertyand freed for a while from this servant who called herself his wife, this strong-minded, strong-bodied, clever Englishwoman, of whom he hadthought to make a tool, and who had made a tool of him. 

So Betty dictated and he wrote: yes, it had come to this--she dictatedand he wrote, and signed too. The order was comprehensive. It gave powerto the most honourable Marquessa of Morella to act for him, her husband, in all things during his absence from Granada. It commanded that allrents and profits due to him should be paid to her, and that all hisservants and dependants should obey her as though she were himself, andthat her receipt should be as good as his receipt. 

When the paper was written, and Betty had spelt it over carefully to seethat there was no omission or mistake, she unlocked the door, struckupon the gong, and summoned the secretaries to witness their lord'ssignature to a settlement. Presently they came, bowing, and offeringmany felicitations, which to himself Morella vowed he would rememberagainst them. 

"I have to go a journey, " he said. "Witness my signature to thisdocument, which provides for the carrying on of my household and thedisposal of my property during my absence. "

They stared and bowed. 

"Read it aloud first, " said Betty, "so that my lord and husband may besure that there is no mistake. "

One of them obeyed, but before ever he had finished the furious Morellashouted to them from the bed:

"Have done and witness, then go, order me horses and an escort, for Iride at once. "

So they witnessed in a great hurry, and left the room. Betty left withthem, holding the paper in her hand, and when she reached the large hallwhere the household were gathered waiting to greet their lord, shecommanded one of the secretaries to read it out to all of them, also totranslate it into the Moorish tongue that every one might understand. Then she hid it away with the marriage lines, and, seating herself inthe midst of the household, ordered them to prepare to receive the mostnoble marquis. 

They had not long to wait, for presently he came out of the room like abull into the arena, whereon Betty rose and curtseyed to him, and at herword all his servants bowed themselves down in the Eastern fashion. Fora moment he paused, again like the bull when he sees the picadors and isabout to charge. Then he thought better of it, and, with a mutteredcurse, strode past them. 

Ten minutes later, for the third time within twenty-four hours, horsesgalloped from the palace and through the Seville gate. 

"Friends, " said Betty in her awkward Spanish, when she knew that he hadgone, "a sad thing has happened to my husband, the marquis. The womanInez, whom it seems he trusted very much, has departed, stealing atreasure that he valued above everything on earth, and so I, hisnew-made wife, am left desolate while he tries to find her. "

CHAPTER XX

ISABELLA OF SPAIN

On the afternoon following his first visit, Castell's agent, Bernaldez, arrived again at the prison of the Hermandad at Seville accompanied by atailor, a woman, and a chest full of clothes. The governor ordered thesetwo persons to wait while the garments were searched under his own eye, but Bernaldez he permitted to be led at once to the prisoners. As soonas he was with them he said:

"Your marquis has been married fast enough. "

"How do you know that?" asked Castell. 

"From the woman Inez, who arrived with the priest last night, and gaveme the certificates of his union with Betty Dene signed by himself. Ihave not brought them with me lest I should be searched, when they mighthave been taken away; but Inez has come disguised as a sempstress, soshow no surprise when you see her, if she is admitted. Perhaps she willbe able to tell the Dona Margaret something of what passed if she isallowed to fit her robes alone. After that she must lie hidden for fearof the vengeance of Morella; but I shall know where to put my hand uponher if she is wanted. You will all of you be brought before the queento-morrow, and then I, who shall be there, will produce the writings. "Scarcely were the words out of his mouth when the governor appeared, andwith him the tailor and Inez, who curtseyed and glanced at Margaret outof the corners of her soft eyes, looking at them all as though withcuriosity, like one who had never seen or heard of them before. 

When the dresses had been produced, Margaret asked whether she might beallowed to try them on with the woman in her own chamber, as she had notbeen measured for them. 

The governor answered that as both the sempstress and the robes had beensearched, there was no objection, so the two of them retired--Inez, withher arms full of garments. 

"Tell me all about it, " whispered Margaret as soon as the door wasclosed. "I die to hear your story. "

So, while she fitted the clothes, since in that place they could neverbe sure but that they were watched through some secret loophole, Inez, with her mouth full of aloe thorns, which those of the trade used aspins, told her everything down to the time of her escape from Granada. When she came to that part of the tale where the false bride had liftedher veil and kissed the bridegroom, Margaret gasped in her amaze. 

"Oh! how could she do it?" she said, "I should have fainted first. "

"She has a good courage, that Betty--turn to the light, please, Seņora--I could not have acted better myself--I think it is a littlehigh on the left shoulder. He never guessed a thing, the besotted fool, and that was before I gave him the wine, for he wasn't likely to guessmuch afterwards. Did the seņora say it was tight under the arm? Well, perhaps a little, but this stuff stretches. What I want to know is, whathappened afterwards? Your cousin is the bull that I put my money on: Ibelieve she will clear the ring. A woman with a nerve of steel; had I asmuch I should have been the Marchioness of Morella long ago, or therewould be another marquis by now. There, the sit of the skirt is perfect;the seņora's beautiful figure looks more beautiful in it than ever. Well, whoever lives will learn all about it, and it is no use worrying. Meanwhile, Bernaldez has paid me the money--and a handsome sum too--soyou needn't thank me. I only worked for hire--and hate. Now I am goingto lie low, as I don't want to get my throat cut, but he can find me ifI am really needed. 

"The priest? Oh, he is safe enough. We made him sign a receipt for hiscash. Also, I believe that he has got his post as a secretary to theInquisition, and began his duties at once as they were short-handed, torturing Jews and heretics, you know, and stealing their goods, both ofwhich occupations will exactly suit him. I rode with him all the way toSeville, and he tried to make love to me, the slimy knave, but I paidhim out, " and Inez smiled at some pleasant recollection. "Still, I didnot quarrel with him outright, as he may come in useful. Who knows?There's the governor calling me. One moment, Excellency, onlyone moment!

"Yes, Seņora, with those few alterations the dress will be perfect. Youshall have it back tonight without fail, and I can cut the others thatyou have been pleased to order from the same pattern. Oh! I thank you, Seņora, you are too good to a poor girl, and, " in a whisper, "theMother of God have you in her guard, and send that Peter has improved inhis love making!" and, half hidden in garments, Inez bowed herself outof the room through the door which the governor had already opened. 

About nine o'clock on the following morning one of the jailers came tosummon Margaret and her father to be led before the court. Margaretasked anxiously if the Seņor Brome was coming too, but the man repliedthat he knew nothing of the Seņor Brome, as he was in one of the cellsfor dangerous criminals, which he did not serve. 

So forth they went, dressed in their new clothes, which were as fine asmoney could buy, and in the latest Seville fashion, and were conductedto the courtyard. Here, to her joy, Margaret saw Peter waiting for themunder guard, and dressed also in the Christian garments which they hadbegged might be supplied to him at their cost. She sprang to his side, none hindering her, and, forgetting her bashfulness, suffered him toembrace her before them all, asking him how he had fared since theywere parted. 

"None too well, " answered Peter gloomily, "who did not know if we shouldever meet again; also, my prison is underground, where but little lightcomes through a grating, and there are rats in it which will not let aman sleep, so I must lie awake the most of the night thinking of you. But where go we now?"

"To be put upon our trial before the queen, I think. Hold my hand andwalk close beside me, but do not stare at me so hard. Is aught wrongwith my dress?"

"Nothing, " answered Peter. "I stare because you look so beautiful init. Could you not have worn a veil? Doubtless there are more marquisesabout this court. "

"Only the Moors wear veils, Peter, and now we are Christians again. Listen--I think that none of them understand English. I have seen Inez, who asked after you very tenderly--nay, do not blush, it is unseemly ina man. Have you seen her also? No--well, she escaped from Granada as sheplanned, and Betty is married to the marquis. "

"It will never hold good, " answered Peter shaking his head, "being but atrick, and I fear that she will pay for it, poor woman! Still, she gaveus a start, though, so far as prisons go, I was better off in Granadathan in that rat-trap. "

"Yes, " answered Margaret innocently, "you had a garden to walk in there, had you not? No, don't be angry with me. Do you know what Betty did?"And she told him of how she had lifted her veil and kissed Morellawithout being discovered. 

"That isn't so wonderful, " said Peter, "since if they are painted upyoung women look very much alike in a half-lit room----"

"Or garden?" suggested Margaret. 

"What is wonderful, " went on Peter, scorning to take note of thisinterruption, "is that she could consent to kiss the man at all. Thedouble-dealing scoundrel! Has Inez told you how he treated her? The verythought of it makes me ill. "

"Well, Peter, he didn't ask you to kiss him, did he? And as for thewrongs of Inez, though doubtless you know more about them than I do, Ithink she has given him an orange for his pomegranate. But look, thereis the Alcazar in front of us. Is it not a splendid castle? You know, itwas built by the Moors. "

"I don't care who it was built by, " said Peter, "and it looks to me likeany other castle, only larger. All I know about it is that I am to betried there for knocking that ruffian on the head--and that perhaps thisis the last we shall see of each other, as probably they will send me tothe galleys, if they don't do worse. "

"Oh! say no such thing. I never thought of it; it is not possible!"answered Margaret, her dark eyes filling with tears. 

"Wait till your marquis appears, pleading the case against us, and youwill see what is or is not possible, " replied Peter with conviction. "Still, we have come through some storms, so let us hope for the best. "

At that moment they reached the gate of the Alcazar, which they hadapproached from their prison through gardens of orange-trees, andsoldiers came up and separated them. Next they were led across a court, where many people hurried to and fro, into a great marble-columned roomglittering with gold, which was called the Hall of Justice. At the farend of this place, seated on a throne set upon a richly carpeted daisand surrounded by lords and counsellors, sat a magnificently attiredlady of middle age. She was blue-eyed and red-haired, with afair-skinned, open countenance, but very reserved and quiet in herdemeanour. 

"The Queen, " muttered the guard, saluting, as did Castell and Peter, while Margaret curtseyed. 

A case had just been tried, and the queen Isabella, after consultationwith her assessors, was delivering judgment in few words and a gentlevoice. As she spoke, her mild blue eyes fell upon Margaret, and, heldit would seem by her beauty, rested on her till they wandered off to thetall form of Peter and the dark, Jewish-looking Castell by him, at thesight of whom she frowned a little. 

That case was finished, and other suitors stood up in their turn, butthe queen, waving her hand and still looking at Margaret, bent down andasked a question of one of the officers of the court, then gave anorder, whereon the officer rising, summoned "John Castell, MargaretCastell, and Peter Brome, all of England, " to appear at the bar andanswer to the charge of murder of one Luiz of Basa, a soldier of theHoly Hermandad. 

At once they were brought forward, and stood in a line in front of thedais, while the officer began to read the charge against them. 

"Stay, friend, " interposed the queen, "these accused are the subjectsof our good brother, Henry of England, and may not understand ourlanguage, though one of them, I think"--and she glanced at Castell--"wasnot born in England, or at any rate of English blood. Ask them if theyneed an interpreter. "

The question was put, and all of them answered that they could speakSpanish, though Peter added that he did so but indifferently. 

"You are the knight, I think, who is charged with the commission of thiscrime, " said Isabella, looking at him. 

"Your Majesty, I am not a knight, only a plain esquire, Peter Brome ofDedham in England. My father was a knight, Sir Peter Brome, but he fellat my side, fighting for Richard, on Bosworth Field, where I had thiswound, " and he pointed to the scar upon his face, "but was not knightedfor my pains. "

Isabella smiled a little, then asked:

"And how came you to Spain, Seņor Peter Brome?"

"Your Majesty, " answered Peter, Margaret helping from time to time whenhe did not know the Spanish words, "this lady at my side, the daughterof the merchant John Castell who stands by her, is my affianced----"

"Then you have won the love of a very beautiful maiden, Seņor, "interrupted the queen; "but proceed. "

"She and her cousin, the Seņora Dene, were kidnapped in London by onewho I understand is the nephew of the King Ferdinand, and an envoy tothe English court, who passed there as the Seņor d'Aguilar, but who inSpain is the Marquis of Morella. "

"Kidnapped! and by Morella!" exclaimed the queen. 

"Yes, your Majesty, cozened on board his ship and kidnapped. The SeņorCastell and I followed them, and, boarding their vessel, tried to rescuethem, but were shipwrecked at Motril. The marquis carried them away toGranada, whither we followed also, I being sorely hurt in the shipwreck. There, in the palace of the marquis, we have lain prisoners many weeks, but at length escaped, purposing to come to Seville and seek theprotection of your Majesties. On the road, while we were dressed asMoors, in which garb we compassed our escape, we were attacked by menthat we thought were bandits, for we had been warned against such evilpeople. One of them rudely molested the Dona Margaret, and I cut himdown, and by misfortune killed him, for which manslaughter I am herebefore you to-day. Your Majesty, I did not know that he was a soldier ofthe Holy Hermandad, and I pray you pardon my offence, which was done inignorance, fear, and anger, for we are willing to pay compensation forthis unhappy death. "

Now some in the court exclaimed:

"Well spoken, Englishman!"

Then the queen said:

"If all this tale be true, I am not sure that we should blame you overmuch, Seņor Brome; but how know we that it is true? For instance, yousaid that the noble marquis stole two ladies, a deed of which I canscarcely think him capable. Where then is the other?"

"I believe, " answered Peter, "that she is now the wife of the Marquis ofMorella. "

"The wife! Who bears witness that she is the wife? He has not advised usthat he was about to marry, as is usual. "

Then Bernaldez stood forward, stating his name and occupation, and thathe was a correspondent of the English merchant, John Castell, andproducing the certificate of marriage signed by Morella, Betty, and thepriest Henriques, handed it up to the queen saying that he had receivedthem in duplicate by a messenger from Granada, and had delivered theother to the Archbishop of Seville. 

The queen, having looked at the paper, passed it to her assessors, whoexamined it very carefully, one of them saying that the form was notusual, and that it might be forged. 

The queen thought a little while, then said:

"That is so, and in one way only can we know the truth. Let our warrantissue summoning before us our cousin, the noble Marquis of Morella, theSeņora Dene, who is said to be his wife, and the priest Henriques ofMotril, who is said to have married them. When they have arrived, all ofthem, the king my husband and I will examine into the matter, and, untilthen, we will not suffer our minds to be prejudiced by hearing any moreof this cause. "

Now the governor of the prison stood forward, and asked what was to bedone with the captives until the witnesses could be brought fromGranada. The queen answered that they must remain in his charge, and bewell treated, whereon Peter prayed that he might be given a better cellwith fewer rats and more light. The queen smiled, and said that itshould be so, but added that it would be proper that he should still bekept apart from the lady to whom he was affianced, who could dwell withher father. Then, noting the sadness on their faces, she added:

"Yet I think they may meet daily in the garden of the prison. "

Margaret curtseyed and thanked her, whereon she said very graciously:

"Come here, Seņora, and sit by me a little, " and she pointed to afootstool at her side. "When I have done this business I desire a fewwords with you. "

So Margaret was brought up upon the dais, and sat down at her Majesty'sleft hand upon the broidered footstool, and very fair indeed she lookedplaced thus above the crowd, she whose beauty and whose bearing were soroyal; but Castell and Peter were led away back to the prison, though, seeing so many gay lords about, the latter went unwillingly enough. Awhile later, when the cases were finished, the queen dismissed the courtsave for certain officers, who stood at a distance, and, turning toMargaret, said:

"Now, fair maiden, tell me your story, as one woman to another, and donot fear that anything you say will be made use of at the trial of yourlover, since against you, at any rate at present, no charge is laid. Say, first, are you really the affianced of that tall gentleman, and hashe really your heart?"

"All of it, your Majesty, " answered Margaret, "and we have suffered muchfor each other's sake. " Then in as few words as she could she told theirtale, while the queen listened earnestly. 

"A strange story indeed, and if it be all true, a shameful, " she saidwhen Margaret had finished. "But how comes it that if Morella desired toforce you into marriage, he is now wed to your companion and cousin?What are you keeping back from me?" and she glanced at her shrewdly. 

"Your Majesty, " answered Margaret, "I was ashamed to speak the rest, yetI will trust you and do so, praying your royal forgiveness if you holdthat we, who were in desperate straits, have done what is wrong. Mycousin, Betty Dene, has paid back Morella in his own false gold. He wonher heart and promised to marry her, and at the risk of her own life shetook my place at the altar, thereby securing our escape. "

"A brave deed, if a doubtful, " said the queen, "though I questionwhether such a marriage will be upheld. But that is a matter for theChurch to judge of, and I must speak of it no more. Certainly it is hardto be angry with any of you. What did you say that Morella promised youwhen he asked you to marry him in London?"

"Your Majesty, he promised that he would lift me high, perhapseven"--and she hesitated--"to that seat in which you sit. "

Isabella frowned, then laughed, and said, as she looked her up and down:

"You would fit it well, better than I do in truth. But what else did hesay?"

"Your Majesty, he said that not every one loves the king, his uncle;that he had many friends who remembered that his father was poisoned bythe father of the king, who was Morella's grandfather; also, that hismother was a princess of the Moors, and that he might throw in his lotwith theirs, or that there were other ways in which he could gainhis end. "

"So, so, " said the queen. "Well, though he is such a good son of theChurch, and my lord is so fond of him, I never loved Morella, and Ithank you for your warning. But I must not speak to you of such highmatters, though it seems that some have thought otherwise. FairMargaret, have you aught to ask of me?"

"Yes, your Majesty--that you will deal gently with my true love when hecomes before you for trial, remembering that he is hot of head andstrong of arm, and that such knights as he--for knightly is his blood--cannot brook to see their ladies mishandled by rough men, and thewrappings that shield them torn from off their bosoms. Also, I pray thatI may be protected from Morella, that he may not be allowed to touch oreven to speak to me, who, for all his rank and splendour, hate him asthough he were some poisoned snake. "

"I have said that I must not prejudge your case, you beautiful EnglishMargaret, " the queen answered with a smile, "yet I think that neither ofthose things you ask will cause justice to slip the bandage that isabout her eyes. Go, and be at peace. If you have spoken truth to me, asI am sure you have, and Isabella of Spain can prevent it, the SeņorBrome's punishment shall not be heavy, nor shall the shadow of theMarquis of Morella, the base-born son of a prince and of some royalinfidel"--these words she spoke with much bitterness--"so much as fallupon you, though I warn you that my lord the king loves the man, as isbut natural, and will not condemn him lightly. Tell me one thing. Thislover of yours is brave, is he not?"

"Very brave, " answered Margaret, smiling. 

"And he can ride a horse and hold a lance, can he not, at any rate inyour quarrel?"

"Aye, your Majesty, and wield a sword too, as well as most knights, though he has been but lately sick. Some learned that onBosworth Field. "

"Good. Now farewell, " and she gave Margaret her hand to kiss. Then, calling two of her officers, she bade them conduct her back to theprison, and say that she should have liberty to send messages or towrite to her, the queen, if she should so desire. 

On the night of that same day Morella galloped into Seville. Indeed heshould have been there long before, but misled by the story of the Moorswho had escorted Peter, Margaret, and her father out of Granada and seenthem take the Malaga road, he travelled thither first, only to find notrace of them in that city. Then he returned and tracked them toSeville, where he was soon made acquainted with all that had happened. Amongst other things, he discovered that ten hours before swiftmessengers had been despatched to Granada, commanding his attendance andthat of Betty, with whom he had gone through the form of marriage. 

On the following morning he asked an audience with the queen, but it wasrefused to him, and the king, his uncle, was away. Next he tried to winadmission into the prison and see Margaret, only to find that neitherhis high rank and authority nor any bribe would suffice to unlock itsdoors. The queen had commanded otherwise, he was informed, and knewtherefrom that in this matter he must reckon with Isabella as an enemy. Then he bethought him of revenge, and began a search for Inez and thepriest Henriques of Motril, only to find that the former had vanished, none knew whither, and the holy father was safe within the walls of theInquisition, whence he was careful not to emerge, and where no layman, however highly placed, could enter to lay a hand upon one of itsofficers. So, full of rage and disappointment, he took counsel oflawyers and friends, and prepared to defend the suit which he saw wouldbe brought against him, hoping that chance might yet deliver Margaretinto his hands. One good card he held, which now he determined to play. Castell, as he knew, was a Jew who for years had posed as a Christian, and for such there was no mercy in Seville. Perhaps for her father'ssake he might yet be able to work upon Margaret, whom now he desired towin more fiercely than ever before. 

At least it was certain that he would try this, or any other means, however base, rather than see her married to his rival, Peter Brome. Also there was the chance that this Peter might be condemned toimprisonment, or even to death, for the killing of a soldier of theHermandad. 

So Morella made him ready for the great struggle as best he could, and, since he could not stop her coming, awaited the arrival of Bettyin Seville. 

CHAPTER XXI

BETTY STATES HER CASE

Seven days had passed, during which time Margaret and her father hadrested quietly in the prison, where, indeed, they dwelt more as gueststhan as captives. Thus they were allowed to receive what visitors theywould, and among them Juan Bernaldez, Castell's connection and agent, who told them of all that passed without. Through him they sentmessengers to meet Betty on her road and apprise her of how thingsstood, and of the trial in which her cause would be judged. 

Soon the messengers returned, stating that the "Marchioness of Morella"was travelling in state, accompanied by a great retinue, that shethanked them for their tidings, and hoped to be able to defend herselfat all points. 

At this news Castell stared and Margaret laughed, for, although she didnot know all the story, she was sure that in some way Betty had themastery of Morella, and would not be easily defeated, though how shecame to be travelling with a great retinue she could not imagine. Still, fearing lest she should be attacked or otherwise injured, she wrote ahumble letter to the queen, praying that her cousin might be defendedfrom all danger at the hands of any one whomsoever until she had anopportunity of giving evidence before their Majesties. 

Within an hour came the answer that the lady was under the royalprotection, and that a guard had been sent to escort her and her partyand to keep her safe from interference of any sort; also, that for hergreater comfort, quarters had been prepared for her in a fortressoutside of Seville, which would be watched night and day, and whence shewould be brought to the court. 

Peter was still kept apart from them, but each day at noon they wereallowed to meet him in the walled garden of the prison, where theytalked together to their heart's content. Here, too, he exercisedhimself daily at all manly games, and especially at sword-play with someof the other prisoners, using sticks for swords. Further, he was allowedthe use of his horse that he had ridden from Granada, on which hejousted in the yard of the castle with the governor and certain othergentlemen, proving himself better at that play than any of them. Thesethings he did vigorously and with ardour, for Margaret had told him ofthe hint which the queen gave her, and he desired to get back his fullstrength, and to perfect himself in the handling of every arm which wasused in Spain. 

So the time went by, until one afternoon the governor informed them thatPeter's trial was fixed for the morrow, and that they must accompany himto the court to be examined also upon all these matters. A little latercame Bernaldez, who said that the king had returned and would sit withthe queen, and that already this affair had made much stir in Seville, where there was much curiosity as to the story of Morella's marriage, ofwhich many different tales were told. That Margaret and her father wouldbe discharged he had little doubt, in which case their ship was readyfor them; but of Peter's chances he could say nothing, for they dependedupon what view the king took of his offence, and, though unacknowledged, Morella was the king's nephew and had his ear. 

Afterwards they went down into the garden, and there found Peter, whohad just returned from his jousting, flushed with exercise, and lookingvery manly and handsome. Margaret took his hand and, walking aside, toldhim the news. 

"I am glad, " he answered, "for the sooner this business is begun thesooner it will be done. But, Sweet, " and here his face grew veryearnest, "Morella has much power in this land, and I have broken itslaw, so none know what the end will be. I may be condemned to death orimprisoned, or perhaps, if I am given the chance, with better luck I mayfall fighting, in any of which cases we shall be separated for a while, or altogether. Should this be so, I pray that you will not stay here, either in the hope of rescuing me, or for other reasons; since, whileyou are in Spain, Morella will not cease from his attempts to get holdof you, whereas in England you will be safe from him. "

When Margaret heard these words she sobbed aloud, for the thought thatharm might come to Peter seemed to choke her. 

"In all things I will do your bidding, " she said, "yet how can I leaveyou, dear, while you are alive, and if, perchance, you should die, whichmay God prevent, how can I live on without you? Rather shall I seek tofollow you very swiftly. "

"I do not desire that, " said Peter. "I desire that you should endureyour days till the end, and come to meet me where I am in due season, and not before. I will add this, that if in after-years you should meetany worthy man, and have a mind to marry him, you should do so, for Iknow well that you will never forget me, your first love, and thatbeyond this world lie others where there are no marryings or giving inmarriage. Let not my dead hand lie heavy upon you, Margaret. "

"Yet, " she replied in gentle indignation, "heavy must it always lie, since it is about my heart. Be sure of this, Peter, that if suchdreadful ill should fall upon us, as you left me so shall you find me, here or hereafter. "

"So be it, " he said with a sigh of relief, for he could not bear tothink of Margaret as the wife of some other man, even after he was gone, although his honest, simple nature, and fear lest her life might be madeempty of all joy, caused him to say what he had said. 

Then behind the shelter of a flowering bush they embraced each other asdo those who know not whether they will ever kiss again, and, the hourof sunset having come, parted as they must. 

On the following morning once more Castell and Margaret were led to theHall of Justice in the Alcazar; but this time Peter did not go withthem. The great court was already full of counsellors, officers, gentlemen, and ladies who had come from curiosity, and other folkconnected with or interested in the case. As yet, however, Margaretcould not see Morella or Betty, nor had the king and queen taken theirseats upon the throne. Peter was already there, standing before the barwith guards on either side of him, and greeted them with a smile and anod as they were ushered to their chairs near by. Just as they reachedthem also trumpets were blown, and from the back of the hall, walkinghand in hand, appeared their Majesties of Spain, Ferdinand and Isabella, whereat all the audience rose and bowed, remaining standing till theywere seated on the thrones. 

The king, whom they now saw for the first time, was a thickset, activeman with pleasant eyes, a fair skin, and a broad forehead, but, asMargaret thought, somewhat sly-faced--the face of a man who never forgothis own interests in those of another. Like the queen, he wasmagnificently attired in garments broidered with gold and the arms ofAragon, while in his hand he held a golden sceptre surmounted by ajewel, and about his waist, to show that he was a warlike king, he worehis long, cross-handled sword. Smilingly he acknowledged the homage ofhis subjects by lifting his hand to his cap and bowing. Then his eyefell upon the beautiful Margaret, and, turning, he put a question to thequeen in a light, sharp voice, asking if that were the lady whom Morellahad married, and, if so, why in the name of heaven he wished to berid of her. 

Isabella answered that she understood that this was the seņora whom hehad desired to marry when he married some one else, as he alleged bymistake, but who was in fact affianced to the prisoner before them; areply at which all who heard it laughed. 

At this moment the Marquis of Morella, accompanied by his gentlemen andsome long-gowned lawyers, appeared walking up the court, dressed in theblack velvet that he always wore, and glittering with orders. Upon hishead was a cap, also of black velvet, from which hung a great pearl, andthis cap he did not remove even when he bowed to the king and queen, forhe was one of the few grandees of Spain who had the right to remaincovered before their Majesties. They acknowledged his salutation, Ferdinand with a friendly nod and Isabella with a cold bow, and he, too, took the seat that had been prepared for him. Just then there was adisturbance at the far end of the court, where one of its officers couldbe heard calling:

"Way! Make way for the Marchioness of Morella!" At the sound of thisname the marquis, whose eyes were fixed on Margaret, frowned fiercely, rising from his seat as though to protest, then, at some whispered wordfrom a lawyer behind him, sat down again. 

Now the crowd of spectators separated, and Margaret, turning to lookdown the long hall, saw a procession advancing up the lane between them, some clad in armour and some in white Moorish robes blazoned with thescarlet eagle, the cognisance of Morella. In the midst of them, hertrain supported by two Moorish women, walked a tall and beautiful lady, a coronet upon her brow, her fair hair outspread, a purple cloak hangingfrom her shoulders, half hiding that same splendid robe sewn with pearlswhich had been Morella's gift to Margaret, and about her white bosom thechain of pearls which he had presented to Betty in compensation forher injuries. 

Margaret stared and stared again, and her father at her side murmured:

"It is our Betty! Truly fine feathers make fine birds. " Yes, Betty itwas without a doubt, though, remembering her in her humble woollen dressat the old house in Holborn, it was hard to recognise the poor companionin this proud and magnificent lady, who looked as though all her lifeshe had trodden the marble floors of courts, and consorted with noblesand with queens. Up the great hall she came, stately, imperturbable, looking neither to the right nor to the left, taking no note of thewhisperings about her, no, nor even of Morella or of Margaret, till shereached the open space in front of the bar where Peter and his guards, gazing with all their eyes, hastened to make place for her. There shecurtseyed thrice, twice to the queen, and once to the king, her consort;then, turning, bowed to the marquis, who fixed his eyes upon the groundand took no note, bowed to Castell and Peter, and lastly, advancing toMargaret, gave her her cheek to kiss. This Margaret did with becominghumility, whispering in her ear:

"How fares your Grace?"

"Better than you would in my shoes, " whispered Betty back with ever soslight a trembling of her left eyelid; while Margaret heard the kingmutter to the queen:

"A fine peacock of a woman. Look at her figure and those big eyes. Morella must be hard to please. "

"Perhaps he prefers swans to peacocks, " answered the queen in the samevoice with a glance at Margaret, whose quieter and more refined beautyseemed to gain by contrast with that of her nobly built anddazzling-skinned cousin. Then she motioned to Betty to take the seatprepared for her, which she did, with her suite standing behind her andan interpreter at her side. 

"I am somewhat bewildered, " said the king, glancing from Morella toBetty and from Margaret to Peter, for evidently the humour of thesituation did not escape him. "What is the exact case that we haveto try?"

Then one of the legal assessors, or alcaldes, rose and said that thematter before their Majesties was a charge against the Englishman at thebar of killing a certain soldier of the Holy Hermandad, but that thereseemed to be other matters mixed up with it. 

"So I gather, " answered the king; "for instance, an accusation of thecarrying off of subjects of a friendly Power out of the territory ofthat Power; a suit for nullity of a marriage, and a cross-suit for thedeclaration of the validity of the said marriage--and the holy saintsknow what besides. Well, one thing at a time. Let us try this tallEnglishman. "

So the case was opened against Peter by a public prosecutor, whorestated it as it had been laid before the queen. The Captain Arranogave his evidence as to the killing of the soldier, but, incross-examination by Peter's advocate, admitted, for evidently he boreno malice against the prisoner, that the said soldier had roughlyhandled the Dona Margaret, and that the said Peter, being a stranger tothe country, might very well have taken them for a troop of bandits oreven Moors. Also, he added, that he could not say that the Englishmanhad intended to kill the soldier. 

Then Castell and Margaret gave their evidence, the latter with muchmodest sweetness. Indeed, when she explained that Peter was heraffianced husband, to whom she was to have been wed on the day after shehad been stolen away from England, and that she had cried out to himfor help when the dead soldier caught hold of her and rent away herveil, there was a murmur of sympathy, and the king and queen began totalk with each other without paying much heed to her further words. 

Next they spoke to two of the judges who sat with them, after which theking held up his hand and announced that they had come to a decision onthe case. It was, that, under the circumstances, the Englishman wasjustified in cutting down the soldier, especially as there was nothingto show that he meant to kill him, or that he knew that he belonged tothe Holy Hermandad. He would, therefore, be discharged on the conditionthat he paid a sum of money, which, indeed, it appeared had already beenpaid to the man's widow, in compensation for the man's death, and afurther small sum for Masses to be said for the welfare of his soul. 

Peter began to give thanks for this judgment; but while he was stillspeaking the king asked if any of those present wished to proceed infurther suits. Instantly Betty rose and said that she did. Then, throughher interpreter, she stated that she had received the royal commands toattend before their Majesties, and was now prepared to answer anyquestions or charges that might be laid against her. 

"What is your name, Seņora?" asked the king. 

"Elizabeth, Marchioness of Morella, born Elizabeth Dene, of the ancientand gentle family of Dene, a native of England, " answered Betty in aclear and decided voice. 

The king bowed, then asked:

"Does any one dispute this title and description?"

"I do, " answered the Marquis of Morella, speaking for the first time. 

"On what grounds, Marquis?"

"On every ground, " he answered. "She is not the Marchioness of Morella, inasmuch as I went through the ceremony of marriage with her believingher to be another woman. She is not of ancient and gentle family, sinceshe was a servant in the house of the merchant Castell yonder, in London. "

"That proves nothing, Marquis, " interrupted the king. "My family may, Ithink, be called ancient and gentle, which you will be the last to deny, yet I have played the part of a servant on an occasion which I think thequeen here will remember"--an allusion at which the audience, who knewwell enough to what it referred, laughed audibly, as did her Majesty[1]. "The marriage and rank are matters for proof, " went on the king, "ifthey are questioned; but is it alleged that this lady has committed anycrime which prevents her from pleading?"

"None, " answered Betty quickly, "except that of being poor, and thecrime, if it is one, as it may be, of having married that man, theMarquis of Morella, " whereat the audience laughed again. 

"Well, Madam, you do not seem to be poor now, " remarked the king, looking at her gorgeous and bejewelled apparel; "and here we are moreapt to think marriage a folly than a crime, " a light saying at which thequeen frowned a little. "But, " he added quickly, "set out your case, Madam, and forgive me if, until you have done so, I do not call youMarchioness. "

[Footnote 1: When travelling from Saragossa to Valladolid to be marriedto Isabella, Ferdinand was obliged to pass himself off as a valet. Prescott says: "The greatest circumspection, therefore, was necessary. The party journeyed chiefly in the night; Ferdinand assumed the disguiseof a servant and, when they halted on the road, took care of the mulesand served his companions at table. "]

"Here is my case, Sire, " said Betty, producing the certificate ofmarriage and handing it up for inspection. 

The judges and their Majesties inspected it, the queen remarking that aduplicate of this document had already been submitted to her and passedon to the proper authorities. 

"Is the priest who solemnised the marriage present?" asked the king;whereon Bernaldez, Castell's agent, rose and said that he was, though heneglected to add that his presence had been secured for no mean sum. 

One of the judges ordered that he should be called, and presently thefoxy-faced Father Henriques, at whom the marquis glared angrily, appeared bowing, and was sworn in the usual form, and, on beingquestioned, stated that he had been priest at Motril, and chaplain tothe Marquis of Morella, but was now a secretary of the Holy Office atSeville. In answer to further questions he said that, apparently by thebridegroom's own wish, and with his full consent, on a certain date atGranada, he had married the marquis to the lady who stood before them, and whom he knew to be named Betty Dene; also, that at her request, since she was anxious that proper record should be kept of her marriage, he had written the certificates which the court had seen, whichcertificates the marquis and others had signed immediately after theceremony in his private chapel at Granada. Subsequently he had leftGranada to take up his appointment as a secretary to the Inquisition atSeville, which had been conferred on him by the ecclesiasticalauthorities in reward of a treatise which he had written upon heresy. That was all he knew about the affair. 

Now Morella's advocate rose to cross-examine, asking him who had madethe arrangements for the marriage. He answered that the marquis hadnever spoken to him directly on the subject--at least he had nevermentioned to him the name of the lady; the Seņora Inez arrangedeverything. 

Now the queen broke in, asking where was the Seņora Inez, and who shewas. The priest replied that the Seņora Inez was a Spanish woman, one ofthe marquis's household at Granada, whom he made use of in allconfidential affairs. She was young and beautiful, but he could say nomore about her. As to where she was now he did not know, although theyhad ridden together to Seville. Perhaps the marquis knew. 

Now the priest was ordered to stand down, and Betty tendered herself asa witness, and through her interpreter told the court the story of herconnection with Morella. She said that she had met him in London whenshe was a member of the household of the Seņor Castell, and that at oncehe began to make love to her and won her heart. Subsequently hesuggested that she should elope with him to Spain, promising to marryher at once, in proof of which she produced the letter he had written, which was translated and handed up for the inspection of the court--avery awkward letter, as they evidently thought, although it was notsigned with the writer's real name. Next Betty explained the trick bywhich she and her cousin Margaret were brought on board his ship, andthat when they arrived there the marquis refused to marry her, allegingthat he was in love with her cousin and not with her--a statement whichshe took to be an excuse to avoid the fulfilment of his promise. Shecould not say why he had carried off her cousin Margaret also, butsupposed that it was because, having once brought her upon the ship, hedid not know how to be rid of her. 

Then she described the voyage to Spain, saying that during that voyageshe kept the marquis at a distance, since there was no priest to marrythem; also, she was sick and much ashamed, who had involved her cousinand mistress in this trouble. She told how the Seņors Castell and Bromehad followed in another vessel, and boarded the caravel in a storm; alsoof the shipwreck and their journey to Granada as prisoners, and of theirsubsequent life there. Finally she described how Inez came to her withproposals of marriage, and how she bargained that if she consented, hercousin, the Seņor Castell, and the Seņor Brome should go free. They wentaccordingly, and the marriage took place as arranged, the marquis firstembracing her publicly in the presence of various people--namely, Inezand his two secretaries, who, except Inez, were present, and could bearwitness to the truth of what she said. 

After the marriage and the signing of the certificates she hadaccompanied him to his own apartments, which she had never enteredbefore, and there, to her astonishment, in the morning, he announcedthat he must go a journey upon their Majesties' business. Before hewent, however, he gave her a written authority, which she produced, toreceive his rents and manage his matters in Granada during his absence, which authority she read to the gathered household before he left. Shehad obeyed him accordingly until she had received the royal command, receiving moneys, giving her receipt for the same, and generallyoccupying the unquestioned position of mistress of his house. 

"We can well believe it, " said the king drily. "And now, Marquis, whathave you to answer to all this?"

"I will answer presently, " replied Morella, who trembled with rage. "First suffer that my advocate cross-examine this woman. "

So the advocate cross-examined, though it cannot be said that he had thebetter of Betty. First he questioned her as to her statement that shewas of ancient and gentle family, whereon Betty overwhelmed the courtwith a list of her ancestors, the first of whom, a certain Sieur Dene deDene, had come to England with the Norman Duke, William the Conqueror. After him, so she still swore, the said Denes de Dene had risen to greatrank and power, having been the favourites of the kings of England, andfought for them generation after generation. 

By slow degrees she came down to the Wars of the Roses, in which shesaid her grandfather had been attainted for his loyalty, and lost hisland and titles, so that her father, whose only child she was--being nowthe representative of the noble family, Dene de Dene--fell into povertyand a humble place in life. However, he married a lady of even moredistinguished race than his own, a direct descendant of a noble Saxonfamily, far more ancient in blood than the upstart Normans. At thispoint, while Peter and Margaret listened amazed, at a hint from thequeen, the bewildered court interfered through the head alcalde, prayingher to cease from the history of her descent, which they took forgranted was as noble as any in England. 

Next she was examined as to her relations with Morella in London, andtold the tale of his wooing with so much detail and imaginative powerthat in the end that also was left unfinished. So it was witheverything. Clever as Morella's advocate might be, sometimes in Englishand sometimes in the Spanish tongue, Betty overwhelmed him with wordsand apt answers, until, able to make nothing of her, the poor man satdown wiping his brow and cursing her beneath his breath. 

Then the secretaries were sworn, and after them various members ofMorella's household, who, although somewhat unwillingly, confirmed allthat Betty had said as to his embracing her with lifted veil and therest. So at length Betty closed her case, reserving the right to addressthe court after she had heard that of the marquis. 

Now the king, queen, and their assessors consulted for a little while, for evidently there was a division of opinion among them, some thinkingthat the case should be stopped at once and referred to anothertribunal, and others that it should go on. At length the queen was heardto say that at least the Marquis of Morella should be allowed to makehis statement, as he might be able to prove that all this story was afabrication, and that he was not even at Granada at the time when themarriage was alleged to have taken place. 

The king and the alcaldes assenting, the marquis was sworn and told hisstory, admitting that it was not one which he was proud to repeat inpublic. He narrated how he had first met Margaret, Betty, and Peter at apublic ceremony in London, and had then and there fallen in love withMargaret, and accompanied her home to the house of her father, themerchant John Castell. 

Subsequently he discovered that this Castell, who had fled from Spainwith his father in childhood, was that lowest of mankind, an unconvertedJew who posed as a Christian (at this statement there was a greatsensation in court, and the queen's face hardened), although it is truethat he had married a Christian lady, and that his daughter had beenbaptized and brought up as a Christian, of which faith she was a loyalmember. Nor did she know--as he believed--that her father remained aJew, since, otherwise, he would not have continued to seek her as hiswife. Their Majesties would be aware, he went on, that, owing to reasonswith which they were acquainted, he had means of getting at the truth ofthese matters concerning the Jews in England, as to which, indeed, hehad already written to them, although, owing to his shipwreck and to thepressure of his private affairs, he had not yet made his report on hisembassy in person. 

Continuing, he said that he admitted that he had made love to theserving-woman, Betty, in order to gain access to Margaret, whose fathermistrusted him, knowing something of his mission. She was a person of nocharacter. 

Here Betty rose and said in a clear voice:

"I declare the Marquis of Morella to be a knave and a liar. There ismore good character in my little finger than in his whole body, and, "she added, "than in that of his mother before him"--an allusion at whichthe marquis flushed, while, satisfied for the present with thishome-thrust, Betty sat down. 

He had proposed to Margaret, but she was not willing to marry him, as hefound that she was affianced to a distant cousin of hers, the SeņorPeter Brome, a swashbuckler who was in trouble for the killing of a manin London, as he had killed the soldier of the Holy Hermandad in Spain. Therefore, in his despair, being deeply enamoured of her, and knowingthat he could offer her great place and fortune, he conceived the ideaof carrying her off, and to do so was obliged, much against his will, toabduct Betty also. 

So after many adventures they came to Granada, where he was able to showthe Dona Margaret that the Seņor Peter Brome was employing hisimprisonment in making love to that member of his household, Inez, whohad been spoken of, but now could not be found. 

Here Peter, who could bear this no longer, also rose and called him aliar to his face, saying that if he had the opportunity he would proveit on his body, but was ordered by the king to sit down and be silent. 

Having been convinced of her lover's unfaithfulness, the marquis wenton, the Dona Margaret had at length consented to become his wife oncondition that her father, the Seņor Brome, and her servant, Betty Dene, were allowed to escape from Granada----

"Where, " remarked the queen, "you had no right to detain them, Marquis. Except, perhaps, the father, John Castell, " she added significantly. 

Where, he admitted with sorrow, he had no right to detain them. 

"Therefore, " went on the queen acutely, "there was no legal or moralconsideration for this alleged promise of marriage, "--a point at whichthe lawyers nodded approvingly. 

The marquis submitted that there was a consideration; that at any ratethe Dona Margaret wished it. On the day arranged for the wedding theprisoners were let go, disguised as Moors, but he now knew that throughthe trickery of the woman Inez, whom he believed had been bribed byCastell and his fellow-Jews, the Dona Margaret escaped in place of herservant, Betty, with whom he subsequently went through the form ofmarriage, believing her to be Margaret. 

As regards the embrace before the ceremony, it took place in a shadowedroom, and he thought that Betty's face and hair must have been paintedand dyed to resemble those of Margaret. For the rest, he was certainthat the ceremonial cup of wine that he drank before he led the woman tothe altar was drugged, since he only remembered the marriage itself verydimly, and after that nothing at all until he woke upon the followingmorning with an aching brow to see Betty sitting by him. As for thepower of administration which she produced, being perfectly mad at thetime with rage and disappointment, and sure that if he stopped there anylonger he should commit the crime of killing this woman who had deceivedhim so cruelly, he gave it that he might escape from her. TheirMajesties would notice also that it was in favour of the Marchioness ofMorella. As this marriage was null and void, there was no Marchioness ofMorella. Therefore, the document was null and void also. That was thetruth, and all he had to say. 

CHAPTER XXII

THE DOOM OF JOHN CASTELL

His evidence finished, the Marquis of Morella sat down, whereon, theking and queen having whispered together, the head alcalde asked Bettyif she had any questions to put to him. She rose with much dignity, andthrough her interpreter said in a quiet voice:

"Yes, a great many. Yet she would not debase herself by asking a singleone until the stain which he had cast upon her was washed away, whichshe thought could only be done in blood. He had alleged that she was awoman of no character, and he had further alleged that their marriagewas null and void. Being of the sex she was, she could not ask him tomake good his assertions at the sword's point, therefore, as shebelieved she had the right to do according to all the laws of honour, she asked leave to seek a champion--if an unfriended woman could findone in a strange land--to uphold her fair name against this base andcruel slander. "

Now, in the silence that followed her speech, Peter rose and said:

"I ask the permission of your Majesties to be that champion. YourMajesties will note that according to his own story I have suffered fromthis marquis the bitterest wrong that one man can receive at the handsof another. Also, he has lied in saying that I am not true to myaffianced lady, the Dona Margaret, and surely I have a right to avengethe lie upon him. Lastly, I declare that I believe the Seņora Betty tobe a good and upright woman, upon whom no shadow of shame has everfallen, and, as her countryman and relative, I desire to uphold her goodname before all the world. I am a foreigner here with few friends, ornone, yet I cannot believe that your Majesties will withhold from me theright of battle which all over the world in such a case one gentlemanmay demand of another. I challenge the Marquis of Morella to mortalcombat without mercy to the fallen, and here is the proof of it. "

Then, stepping across the open space before the bar, he drew theleathern gauntlet off his hand and threw it straight into Morella'sface, thinking that after such an insult he could not choose but fight. 

With an oath Morella snatched at his sword; but, before he could drawit, officers of the court threw themselves on him, and the king's sternvoice was heard commanding them to cease their brawling in the royalpresences. 

"I ask your pardon, Sire, " gasped Morella, "but you have seen what thisEnglishman did to me, a grandee of Spain. "

"Yes, " broke in the queen, "but we have also heard what you, a grandeeof Spain, did to this gentleman of England, and the charge you broughtagainst him, which, it seems, the Dona Margaret does not believe. "

"In truth, no, your Majesty, " said Margaret. "Let me be sworn also, andI can explain much of what the marquis has told to you. I never wishedto marry him or any man, save this one, " and she touched Peter on thearm, "and anything that he or I may have done, we did to escape the evilnet in which we were snared. "

"We believe it, " answered the queen with a smile, then fell toconsulting with the king and the alcaldes. 

For a long time they debated in voices so low that none could hear whatthey said, looking now at one and now at another of the parties to thisstrange suit. Also, some priest was called into their council, whichMargaret thought a bad omen. At length they made up their minds, and ina low, quiet voice and measured words her Majesty, as Queen of Castile, gave the judgment of them all. Addressing herself first to Morella, she said:

"My lord Marquis, you have brought very grave charges against the ladywho claims to be your wife, and the Englishman whose affianced bride youadmit you snatched away by fraud and force. This gentleman, on his ownbehalf and on behalf of these ladies, has challenged you to a combat tothe death in a fashion that none can mistake. Do you accept hischallenge?"

"I would accept it readily enough, your Majesty, " answered Morella insullen tones, "since heretofore none have doubted my courage; but I mustremember that I am"--and he paused, then added--"what your Majestiesknow me to be, a grandee of Spain, and something more, wherefore it isscarcely lawful for me to cross swords with a Jew-merchant's clerk, forthat was this man's high rank and office in England. "

"You could cross them with me on your ship, the _San Antonio_, "exclaimed Peter bitterly, "why then are you ashamed to finish what youwere not ashamed to begin? Moreover, I tell you that in love or war Ihold myself the equal of any woman-thief and bastard in this kingdom, who am one of a name that has been honoured in my own. "

Now again the king and queen spoke together of this question of rank--nosmall one in that age and country. Then Isabella said:

"It is true that a grandee of Spain cannot be asked to meet a simpleforeign gentleman in single combat. Therefore, since he has thought fitto raise it, we uphold the objection of the Marquis of Morella, anddeclare that this challenge is not binding on his honour. Yet we notehis willingness to accept the same, and are prepared to do what we canto make the matter easy, so that it may not be said that a Spaniard, whohas wrought wrong to an Englishman, and been asked openly to make theamend of arms in the presence of his sovereigns, was debarred from sodoing by the accident of his rank. Seņor Peter Brome, if you willreceive it at our hands, as others of your nation have been proud to do, we propose, believing you to be a brave and loyal man of gentle birth, to confer upon you the knighthood of the Order of St. James, and therebyand therein the right to consort with as equal, or to fight as equal, any noble of Spain, unless he should be of the right blood-royal, towhich place we think the most puissant and excellent Marquis of Morellalays no claim. "

"I thank your Majesties, " said Peter, astonished, "for the honour thatyou would do to me, which, had it not been for the fact that my fatherchose the wrong side on Bosworth Field, being of a race somewhatobstinate in the matter of loyalty, I should not have needed to acceptfrom your Majesties. As it is I am very grateful, since now the noblemarquis need not feel debased in settling our long quarrel as he woulddesire to do. "

"Come hither and kneel down, Seņor Peter Brome, " said the queen when hehad finished speaking. 

He obeyed, and Isabella, borrowing his sword from the king, gave him theaccolade by striking him thrice upon the right shoulder and saying:

"Rise, Sir Peter Brome, Knight of the most noble Order of Saint Iago, and by creation a Don of Spain. "

He rose, he bowed, retreating backwards as was the custom, and therebynearly falling off the dais, which some people thought a good omen forMorella. As he went the king said:

"Our Marshal, Sir Peter, will arrange the time and manner of your combatwith the marquis as shall be most convenient to you both. Meanwhile, wecommand you both that no unseemly word or deed should pass between you, who must soon meet face to face to abide the judgment of God in battle_ā l'outrance_. Rather, since one of you must die so shortly, do weentreat you to prepare your souls to appear before His judgment-seat. Wehave spoken. "

Now the audience appeared to think that the court was ended, for many ofthem began to rise; but the queen held up her hand and said:

"There remain other matters on which we must give judgment. The seņorahere, " and she pointed to Betty, "asks that her marriage should bedeclared valid, or so we understand, and the Marquis of Morella asksthat his marriage with the said seņora should be declared void, or sowe understand. Now this is a question over which we claim no power, ithaving to do with a sacrament of the Church. Therefore we leave it tohis Holiness the Pope in person, or by his legate, to decide accordingto his wisdom in such manner as may seem best to him, if the partiesconcerned should choose to lay their suit before him. Meanwhile, wedeclare and decree that the seņora, born Elizabeth Dene, shalleverywhere throughout our dominions, until or unless his Holiness thePope shall decide to the contrary, be received and acknowledged as theMarchioness of Morella, and that during his lifetime her reputed husbandshall make due provision for her maintenance, and that after his death, should no decision have been come to by the court of Rome upon her suit, she shall inherit and enjoy that proportion of his lands and propertywhich belongs to a wife under the laws of this realm. "

Now, while Betty bowed her thanks to their Majesties till the jewels onher bodice rattled, and Morella scowled till his face looked as black asa thunder-cloud above the mountains, the audience, whispering to eachother, once more rose to disperse. Again the queen held up her hand, forthe judgment was not yet finished. 

"We have a question to ask of the gallant Sir Peter Brome and the DonaMargaret, his affianced. Is it still their desire to take each other inmarriage?"

Now Peter looked at Margaret, and Margaret looked at Peter, and therewas that in their eyes which both of them understood, for he answered ina clear voice:

"Your Majesty, that is the dearest wish of both of us. "

The queen smiled a little, then asked: "And do you, Seņor JohnCastell, consent and allow your daughter's marriage to this knight?"

"I do, indeed, " he answered gravely. "Had it not been for this manhere, " and he glanced with bitter hatred at Morella, "they would havebeen united long ago, and to that end, " he added with meaning, "suchlittle property as I possessed has been made over to trustees in Englandfor their benefit and that of their children. Therefore I amhenceforward dependent upon their charity. "

"Good, " said the queen. "Then one question remains to be put, and onlyone. Is it your wish, both of you, that you should be wed before thesingle combat between the Marquis of Morella and Sir Peter Brome?Remember, Dona Margaret, before you answer, that in this event you maysoon be made a widow, and that if you postpone the ceremony you maynever be a wife. "

Now Margaret and Peter spoke a few words together, then the formeranswered for them both. 

"Should my lord fall, " she said in her sweet voice that trembled as sheuttered the words, "in either case my heart will be widowed and broken. Let me live out my days, therefore, bearing his name, that, knowing mydeathless grief, none may thenceforth trouble me with their love, whodesire to remain his bride in heaven. "

"Well spoken, " said the queen. "We decree that here in our cathedral ofSeville you twain shall be wed on the same day, but before the Marquisof Morella and you, Sir Peter Brome, meet in single combat. Further, lest harm should be attempted against either of you, " and she lookedsideways at Morella, "you, Seņora Margaret, shall be my guest until youleave my care to become a bride, and you, Sir Peter, shall return tolodge in the prison whence you came, but with liberty to see whom youwill, and to go when and where you will, but under our protection, lestsome attempt should be made on you. "

She ceased, whereon suddenly the king began speaking in his sharp, thinvoice. 

"Having settled these matters of chivalry and marriage, " he said, "thereremains another, which I will not leave to the gentle lips of oursovereign Lady, that has to do with something higher than either ofthem--namely, the eternal welfare of men's souls, and of the Church ofChrist on earth. It has been declared to us that the man yonder, JohnCastell, merchant of London, is that accursed thing, a Jew, who for thesake of gain has all his life feigned to be a Christian, and, as such, deceived a Christian woman into marriage; that he is, moreover, of oursubjects, having been born in Spain, and therefore amenable to the civiland spiritual jurisdiction of this realm. "

He paused, while Margaret and Peter stared at each other affrighted. Only Castell stood silent and unmoved, though he guessed what mustfollow better than either of them. 

"We judge him not, " went on the king, "who claim no authority in suchhigh matters, but we do what we must do--we commit him to the HolyInquisition, there to take his trial!"

Now Margaret cried aloud. Peter stared about him as though for help, which he knew could never come, feeling more afraid than ever he hadbeen in all his life, and for the first time that day Morella smiled. At least he would be rid of one enemy. But Castell went to Margaret andkissed her tenderly. Then he shook Peter by the hand, saying:

"Kill that thief, " and he looked at Morella, "as I know you will, andwould if there were ten as bad at his back. And be a good husband to mygirl, as I know you will also, for I shall ask an account of you ofthese matters when we meet where there is neither Jew nor Christian, priest nor king. Now be silent, and bear what must be borne as I do, forI have a word to say before I leave you and the world. 

"Your Majesties, I make no plea for myself, and when I am questionedbefore your Inquisition the task will be easy, for I desire to hidenothing, and will tell the truth, though not from fear or because Ishrink from pain. Your Majesties, you have told us that these two, who, at least, are good enough Christians from their birth, shall be wed. Iwould ask you if any spiritual crime, or supposed crime, of mine will beallowed to work their separation, or to their detriment in any waywhatsoever. "

"On that point, " answered the queen quickly, as though she wished to getin her words before the king or any one else could speak, "you have ourroyal word, John Castell. Your case is apart from their case, andnothing of which you may be convicted shall affect them in person or, "she added slowly, "in property. "

"A large promise, " muttered the king. 

"It is my promise, " she answered decidedly, "and it shall be kept at anycost. These two shall marry, and if Sir Peter lives through the fraythey shall depart from Spain unharmed, nor shall any fresh charge bebrought against them in any court of the realm, nor shall they bepersecuted or proceeded against in any other realm or on the high seasat our instance or that of our officers. Let my words be written down, and one copy of them signed and filed and another copy given to the DonaMargaret. "

"Your Majesty, " said Castell, "I thank you, and now, if die I must, Ishall die happy. Yet I make bold to tell you that had you not spokenthem it was my purpose to kill myself, here before your eyes, since thatis a sin for which none can be asked to suffer save the sinner. Also, Isay that this Inquisition which you have set up shall eat out the heartof Spain and bring her greatness to the dust of death. The torture andthe misery of those Jews, than whom you have no better or more faithfulsubjects, shall be avenged on the heads of your children's children forso long as their blood endures. "

He finished speaking, and, while something that sounded like a gasp offear rose from that crowded court as the meaning of Castell's bold wordscame home to his auditors, the crowd behind him separated, and thereappeared, walking two by two, a file of masked and hooded monks and aguard of soldiers, all of whom doubtless were in waiting. They came toJohn Castell, they touched him on the shoulder, they closed around him, hiding him as it were from the world, and in the midst of them hevanished away. 

Peter's memories of that strange day in the Alcazar at Seville alwaysremained somewhat dim and blurred. It was not wonderful. Within thespace of a few hours he had been tried for his life and acquitted. Hehad seen Betty, transformed from a humble companion into a magnificentand glittering marchioness, as a chrysalis is transformed into abutterfly, urge her strange suit against the husband who had trickedher, and whom she had tricked, and, for the while at any rate, more thanhold her own, thanks to her ready wit and native strength of character. 

As her champion, and that of Margaret, he had challenged Morella to asingle combat, and when his defiance was refused on the ground of hislack of rank, by the favour of the great Isabella, who wished to use himas her instrument, doubtless because of those secret ambitions ofMorella's which Margaret had revealed to her, he had been suddenlyadvanced to the high station of a Knight of the Order of St. James ofSpain, to which, although he cared little for it, otherwise he mightvainly have striven to come. 

More, and better far, the desire of his heart would at length beattained, for now it was granted to him to meet his enemy, the man whomhe hated with just cause, upon a fair field, without favour shown to oneor the other, and to fight him to the death. He had been promised, further, that within some few days Margaret should be given to him aswife, although it well might be that she would keep that name but for asingle hour, and that until then they both should dwell safe fromMorella's violence and treachery; also that, whatever chanced, no suitshould lie against them in any land for aught that they did or haddone in Spain. 

Lastly, when all seemed safe save for that chance of war, whereof, having been bred to such things, he took but little count; when his cup, emptied at length of mire and sand, was brimming full with the good redwine of battle and of love, when it was at his very lips indeed, Fatehad turned it to poison and to gall. Castell, his bride's father, andthe man he loved, had been haled to the vaults of the Inquisition, whence he knew well he would come forth but once more, dressed in ayellow robe "relaxed to the civil arm, " to perish slowly in the fires ofthe Quemadero, the place of burning of heretics. 

What would his conquest over Morella avail if Heaven should give himpower to conquer? What kind of a bridal would that be which was sealedand consecrated by the death of the bride's father in the torturingfires of the Inquisition? How would they ever get the smell of the smokeof that sacrifice out of their nostrils? Castell was a brave man; notorments would make him recant. It was doubtful even if he would be atthe pains to deny his faith, he who had only been baptized a Christianby his father for the sake of policy, and suffered the fraud to continuefor the purposes of his business, and that he might win and keep aChristian wife. No, Castell was doomed, and he could no more protect himfrom priest and king than a dove can protect its nest from a pair ofhungry peregrines. 

Oh that last scene! Never could Peter forget it while he lived--thevast, fretted hall with its painted arches and marble columns; the raysof the afternoon sun piercing the window-places, and streaming likeblood on to the black robes of the monks as, with their prey, theyvanished back into the arcade where they had lurked; Margaret's wild cryand ashen face as her father was torn away from her, and she sankfainting on to Betty's bejewelled bosom; the cruel sneer on Morella'slips; the king's hard smile; the pity in the queen's eye; the excitedmurmurings of the crowd; the quick, brief comments of the lawyers; thescratching of the clerk's quill as, careless of everything save hiswork, he recorded the various decrees; and above it all as it were, upright, defiant, unmoved, Castell, surrounded by the ministers ofdeath, vanishing into the blackness of the arcade, vanishing into thejaws of the tomb. 

CHAPTER XXIII

FATHER HENRIQUES AND THE BAKER'S OVEN

A week had gone by. Margaret was in the palace, where Peter had been tosee her twice, and found her broken-hearted. Even the fact that theywere to be wed upon the following Saturday, the day fixed also for thecombat between Peter and Morella, brought her no joy or consolation. Foron the next day, the Sunday, there was to be an "Act of Faith, " an_auto-da-fé_ in Seville, when wicked heretics, such as Jews, Moors, andpersons who had spoken blasphemy, were to suffer for their crimes--someby fire on the Quemadero, or place of burning, outside the city; some bymaking public confession of their grievous sin before they were carriedoff to perpetual and solitary imprisonment; some by being garottedbefore their bodies were given to the flames, and so forth. In thisceremony it was known that John Castell had been doomed to play aleading part. 

On her knees, with tears and beseechings, Margaret had prayed the queenfor mercy. But in this matter those tears produced no more effect uponthe heart of Isabella than does water dripping on a diamond. Gentleenough in other ways, where questions of the Faith were concerned shehad the craft of a fox and the cruelty of a tiger. She was evenindignant with Margaret. Had not enough been done for her? she asked. Had she not even passed her royal word that no steps should be taken todeprive the accused of such property as he might own in Spain if he werefound guilty, and that none of those penalties which, according to lawand custom fell upon the children of such infamous persons, shouldattach to her, Margaret? Was she not to be publicly married to herlover, and, should he survive the combat, allowed to depart with him inhonour without even being asked to see her father expiate his iniquity?Surely, as a good Christian she should rejoice that he was given thisopportunity of reconciling his soul with God and be made an example toothers of his accursed faith. Was she then a heretic also?

So she stormed on, till Margaret crept from her presence wonderingwhether this creed could be right that would force the child to informagainst and bring the parent to torment. Where were such things writtenin the sayings of the Saviour and His Apostles? And if they were notwritten, who had invented them?

"Save him!--save him!" Margaret had gasped to Peter in despair. "Savehim, or I swear to you, however much I may love you, however much we mayseem to be married, never shall you be a husband to me. "

"That seems hard, " replied Peter, shaking his head mournfully, "since itwas not I who gave him over to these devils, and probably the end of itwould be that I should share his fate. Still, I will do what a man can. "

"No, no, " she cried in despair; "do nothing that will bring you intodanger. " But he had gone without waiting for her answer. 

It was night, and Peter sat in a secret room in a certain baker's shopin Seville. There were present there besides himself the FrayHenriques--now a secretary to the Holy Inquisition, but disguised as alayman--the woman Inez, the agent Bernaldez, and the old Jew, Israelof Granada. 

"I have brought him here, never mind how, " Inez was saying, pointing toHenriques. "A risky and disagreeable business enough. And now what isthe use of it?"

"No use at all, " answered the Fray coolly, "except to me who pocket myten gold pieces. "

"A thousand doubloons if our friend escapes safe and sound, " put in theold Jew Israel. "God in Heaven! think of it, a thousand doubloons. "

The secretary's eyes gleamed hungrily. 

"I could do with them well enough, " he answered, "and hell could spareone filthy Jew for ten years or so, but I see no way. What I do see, isthat probably all of you will join him. It is a great crime to try totamper with a servant of the Holy Office. "

Bernaldez turned white, and the old Jew bit his nails; but Inez tappedthe priest upon the shoulder. 

"Are you thinking of betraying us?" she asked in her gentle voice. "Look here, friend, I have some knowledge of poisons, and I swear to youthat if you attempt it, you shall die within a week, tied in a doubleknot, and never know whence the dose came. Or I can bewitch you, I, whohave not lived a dozen years among the Moors for nothing, so that yourhead swells and your body wastes, and you utter blasphemies, notknowing what you say, until for very shame's sake they toast you amongthe faggots also. "

"Bewitch me!" answered Henriques with a shiver. "You have done thatalready, or I should not be here. "

"Then, if you do not wish to be in another place before your time, " wenton Inez, still tapping his shoulder gently, "think, think! and find away, worthy servant of the Holy Office. "

"A thousand doubloons!--a thousand gold doubloons!" croaked old Israel, "or if you fail, sooner or later, this month or next, this year or next, death--death as slow and cruel as we can make it. There are twoInquisitions in Spain, holy Father; but one of them does its business inthe dark, and your name is on its ledger. "

Now Henriques was very frightened, as well he might be with all thoseeyes glaring at him. 

"You need fear nothing, " he said, "I know the devilish power of yourleague too well, and that, if I kill you all, a hundred others I havenever seen or heard of would dog me to my death, who have taken youraccursed money. "

"I am glad that you understand at last, dear friend, " said the soft, mocking voice of Inez, who stood behind the monk like an evil genius, and again tapped him affectionately on the shoulder, this time with thebare blade of a poniard. "Now be quick with that plan of yours. It growslate, and all holy people should be abed. "

"I have none. I defy you, " he answered furiously. 

"Very well, friend--very well; then I will say good night, or ratherfarewell, since I am not likely to meet you again in this world. ""Where are you going?" he asked anxiously. 

"Oh! to the palace to meet the Marquis of Morella and a friend of his, arelation indeed. Look you here. I have had an offer of pardon for mypart in that marriage if I can prove that a certain base priest knewthat he was perpetrating a fraud. Well, I _can_ prove it--you mayremember that you wrote me a note--and, if I do, what happens to such apriest who chances to have incurred the hatred of a grandee of Spain andof his noble relation?"

"I am an officer of the Holy Inquisition; no one dare touch me, " hegasped. 

"Oh! I think that there are some who would take the risk. Forinstance--the king. "

Fray Henriques sank back in his chair. Now he understood whom Inez meantby the noble relative of Morella, understood also that he had beentrapped. "On Sunday morning, " he began in a hollow whisper, "theprocession will be formed, and wind through the streets of the city tothe theatre, where the sermon will be preached before those who arerelaxed proceed to the Quemadero. About eight o'clock it turns on to thequay for a little way only, and here will be but few spectators, sincethe view of the pageant is bad, nor is the road guarded there. Now, if adozen determined men were waiting disguised as peasants with a boat athand, perhaps they might----" and he paused. 

Then Peter, who had been watching and listening to all this play, spokefor the first time, asking:

"In such an event, reverend Sir, how would those determined men knowwhich was the victim that they sought?"

"The heretic John Castell, " he answered, "will be seated on an ass, clad in a _zamarra_ of sheepskin painted with fiends and a likeness ofhis own head burning--very well done, for I, who can draw, had a hand init. Also, he alone will have a rope round his neck, by which he maybe known. "

"Why will he be seated on an ass?" asked Peter savagely. "Because youhave tortured him so that he cannot walk?"

"Not so--not so, " said the Dominican, shrinking from those fierce eyes. "He has never been questioned at all, not a single turn of the_mancuerda_, I swear to you, Sir Knight. What was the use, since heopenly avows himself an accursed Jew?"

"Be more gentle in your talk, friend, " broke in Inez, with her familiartap upon the shoulder. "There are those here who do not think so ill ofJews as you do in your Holy House, but who understand how to apply the_mancuerda_, and can make a very serviceable rack out of a plank and apulley or two such as lie in the next room. Cultivate courtesy, mostlearned priest, lest before you leave this place you should add a cubitto your stature. "

"Go on, " growled Peter. 

"Moreover, " added Fray Henriques shakily, "orders came that it was notto be done. The Inquisitors thought otherwise, as they believed--doubtless in error--that he might have accomplices whose nameshe would give up; but the orders said that as he had lived so long inEngland, and only recently travelled to Spain, he could have none. Therefore he is sound--sound as a bell; never before, I am told, has animpenitent Jew gone to the stake in such good case, however worthy andworshipful he might be. "

"So much the better for you, if you do not lie, " answered Peter. "Continue!"

"There is nothing more to say, except that I shall be walking near tohim with the two guards, and, of course, if he were snatched away fromus, and there were no boats handy in which to pursue, we could not helpit, could we? Indeed, we priests, who are men of peace, might even flyat the sight of cruel violence. "

"I should advise you to fly fast and far, " said Peter. "But, Inez, whathold have you on this friend of yours? He will trick everybody. "

"A thousand doubloons--a thousand doubloons!" muttered old Israel like asleepy parrot. 

"He may think to screw more than that out of the carcases of some of us, old man. Come, Inez, you are quick at this game. How can we best holdhim to his word?"

"Dead, I think, " broke in Bernaldez, who knew his danger as the partnerand relative of Castell, and the nominal owner of the ship _Margaret_ inwhich it was purposed that he should escape. "We know all that he cantell, and if we let him go he will betray us soon or late. Kill him outof the way, I say, and burn his body in the oven. "

Now Henriques fell upon his knees, and with groans and tears began toimplore mercy. 

"Why do you complain so?" asked Inez, watching him with reflective eyes. "The end would be much gentler than that which you righteous folk meteout to many more honest men, yes, and women too. For my part, I thinkthat the Seņor Bernaldez gives good counsel. Better that you shoulddie, who are but one, than all of us and others, for you will understandthat we cannot trust you. Has any one got a rope?"

Now Henriques grovelled on the ground before her, kissing the hem of herrobe, and praying her in the name of all the saints to show pity on onewho had been betrayed into this danger by love of her. 

"Of money you mean, Toad, " she answered, kicking him with her slipperedfoot. "I had to listen to your talk of love while we journeyed together, and before, but here I need not, and if you speak of it again you shallgo living into that baker's oven. Oh! you have forgotten it, but I havea long score to settle with you. You were a familiar of the Holy Officehere at Seville--were you not?--before Morella promoted you to Motrilfor your zeal, and made you one of his chaplains? Well, I had a sister, "And she knelt down and whispered a name into his ear. 

He uttered a sound--it was more of a scream than a gasp. 

"I had nothing to do with her death, " he protested. "She was broughtwithin the walls of the Holy House by some one who had a grudge againsther and bore false witness. "

"Yes, I know. It was you who had the grudge, you snake-souled rogue, andit was you who gave the false witness. It was you, also, who but theother day volunteered the corroborative evidence that was necessaryagainst Castell, saying that he had passed the Rood at your house inMotril without doing it reverence, and other things. It was you, too, who urged your superiors to put him to the question, because you said hewas rich and had rich friends, and much money could be wrung out of himand them, whereof you were to get your share. Oh! yes, my information isgood, is it not? Even what passes in the dungeons of the Holy Housecomes to the ears of the woman Inez. Well, do you still think thatbaker's oven too hot for you?"

By this time Henriques was speechless with terror. There he knelt uponthe floor, glaring at this soft-voiced, remorseless woman who had made atool and a fool of him; who had beguiled him there that night, and whohated him so bitterly and with so just a cause. Peter was speaking now. 

"It would be better not to stain our hands with the creature's blood, "he said. "Caged rats give little sport, and he might be tracked. For mypart, I would leave his judgment to God. Have you no other way, Inez?"

She thought a while, then prodded the Fray Henriques with her foot, saying:

"Get up, sainted secretary to the Holy Office, and do a little writing, which will be easy to you. See, here are pens and paper. NowI'll dictate:

"'Most Adorable Inez, "'Your dear message has reached me safely here in this accursed HolyHouse, where we lighten heretics of their sins to the benefit of theirsouls, and of their goods to the benefit of our own bodies----'"

"I cannot write it, " groaned Henriques; "it is rank heresy. "

"No, only the truth, " answered Inez. 

"Heresy and the truth--well, they are often the same thing. They wouldburn me for it. "

"That is just what many heretics have urged. They have died gloriouslyfor what they hold to be the truth, why should not you? Listen, " shewent on more sternly. "Will you take your chance of burning on theQuemadero, which you will not do unless you betray us, or will youcertainly burn more privately, but better, in a baker's oven, and withinhalf an hour? Ah! I thought you would not hesitate. Continue yourletter, most learned scribe. Are those words down? Yes. Now add these:

"'I note all you tell me about the trial at the Alcazar before theirMajesties. I believe that the Englishwoman will win her case. That was avery pretty trick that I played on the most noble marquis at Granada. Nothing neater was ever done, even in this place. Well, I owed him along score, and I have paid him off in full. I should like to have seenhis exalted countenance when he surveyed the features of his bride, thewaiting-woman, and knew that the mistress was safe away with anotherman. The nephew of the king, who would like himself to be king some day, married to an English waiting-woman! Good, very good, dear Inez. 

"'Now, as regards the Jew, John Castell. I think that the matter maypossibly be managed, provided that the money is all right, for, as youknow, I do not work for nothing. Thus----'" And Inez dictated withadmirable lucidity those suggestions as to the rescue of Castell, withwhich the reader is already acquainted, ending the letter as follows:

"'These Inquisitors here are cruel beasts, though fonder of money thanof blood; for all their talk about zeal for the Faith is so much windbehind the mountains. They care as much for the Faith as the mountaincares for the wind, or, let us say, as I do. They wanted to torture thepoor devil, thinking that he would rain maravedis; but I gave a hint inthe right quarter, and their fun was stopped. Carissima, I must stopalso; it is my hour for duty, but I hope to meet you as arranged, and wewill have a merry evening. Love to the newly married marquis, if youmeet him, and to yourself you know how much. 

"'Your

"'HENRIQUES. 

"'POSTSCRIPTUM. --This position will scarcely be as remunerative as Ihoped, so I am glad to be able to earn a little outside, enough to buyyou a present that will make your pretty eyes shine. '

"There!" said Inez mildly, "I think that covers everything, and wouldburn you three or four times over. Let me read it to see that it isplainly written and properly signed, for in such matters a good dealturns on handwriting. Yes, that will do. Now you understand, don't you, if anything goes wrong about the matter we have been talking of--thatis, if the worthy John Castell is not rescued, or a smell of our littleplot should get into the wind--this letter goes at once to the rightquarter, and a certain secretary will wish that he had never been born. Man!" she added in a hissing whisper, "you shall die by inches as mysister did. "

"A thousand doubloons if the thing succeeds, and you live to claimthem, " croaked old Israel. "I do not go back upon my word. Death andshame and torture or a thousand doubloons. Now he knows our terms, blindfold him again, Seņor Bernaldez, and away with him, for he poisonsthe air. But first you, Inez, be gone and lodge that letter whereyou know. "

 * * * * *

That same night two cloaked figures, Peter and Bernaldez, were rowed ina little boat out to where the _Margaret_ lay in the river, and, makingher fast, slipped up the ship's side into the cabin. Here the stoutEnglish captain, Smith, was waiting for them, and so glad was the honestfellow to see Peter that he cast his arms about him and hugged him, forthey had not met since that desperate adventure of the boarding of the_San Antonio_. 

"Is your ship fit for sea, Captain?" asked Peter. 

"She will never be fitter, " he answered. "When shall I get sailingorders?"

"When the owner comes aboard, " answered Peter. 

"Then we shall stop here until we rot; they have trapped him in theirInquisition. What is in your mind, Peter Brome?--what is in your mind?Is there a chance?"

"Aye, Captain, I think so, if you have a dozen fellows of the rightEnglish stuff between decks. "

"We have got that number, and one or two more. But what's the plan?"

Peter told him. 

"Not so bad, " said Smith, slapping his heavy hand upon his knee; "butrisky--very risky. That Inez must be a good girl. I should like to marryher, notwithstanding her bygones. "

Peter laughed, thinking what an odd couple they would make. "Hear therest, then talk, " he said. "See now! On Saturday next Mistress Margaretand I are to be married in the cathedral; then, towards sunset, theMarquis of Morella and I run our course in the great bull-ring yonder, and you and half a dozen of your men will be present. Now, I may conqueror I may fail----"

"Never!--never!" said the captain. "I wouldn't give a pair of old bootsfor that fine Spaniard's chance when you get at him. Why, you will crimphim like a cod-fish!"

"God knows!" answered Peter. "If I win, my wife and I make our adieux totheir Majesties, and ride away to the quay, where the boat will bewaiting, and you will row us on board the _Margaret_. If I fail, youwill take up my body, and, accompanied by my widow, bring it in the samefashion on board the _Margaret_, for I shall give it out that in thiscase I wish to be embalmed in wine and taken back to England for burial. In either event, you will drop your ship a little way down the riverround the bend, so that folk may think that you have sailed. In thedarkness you must work her back with the tide and lay her behind thoseold hulks, and if any ask you why, say that three of your men have notyet come aboard, and that you have dropped back for them, and whateverelse you like. Then, in case I should not be alive to guide you, you andten or twelve of the best sailors will land at the spot that thisgentleman will show you to-morrow, wearing Spanish cloaks so as not toattract attention, but being well armed underneath them, like idlersfrom some ship who had come ashore to see the show. I have told you howyou may know Master Castell. When you see him make a rush for him, cutdown any that try to stop you, tumble him into the boat, and row foryour lives to the ship, which will slip her moorings and get up hercanvas as soon as she sees you coming, and begin to drop down the riverwith the tide and wind, if there is one. That is the plot, but God aloneknows the end of it! which depends upon Him and the sailors. Will youplay this game for the love of a good man and the rest of us? If yousucceed, you shall be rich for life, all of you. "

"Aye, " answered the captain, "and there's my hand on it. So sure as myname is Smith, we will hook him out of that hell if men can do it, andnot for the money either. Why, Peter, we have sat here idle so long, waiting for you and our lady, that we shall be glad of the fun. At anyrate, there will be some dead Spaniards before they have done with us, and, if we are worsted, I'll leave the mate and enough hands upon theship to bring her safe to Tilbury. But we won't be--we won't be. By thisday week we will all be rolling homewards across the Bay with never aSpaniard within three hundred miles, you and your lady and MasterCastell, too. I know it! I tell you, lad, I know it!"

"How do you know it?" asked Peter curiously. 

"Because I dreamed it last night. I saw you and Mistress Margaretsitting sweet as sugar, with your arms around each other's middles, while I talked to the master, and the sun went down with the windblowing stiff from sou-sou-west, and a gale threatening. I tell you thatI dreamed it--I who am not given to dreams. "

CHAPTER XXIV

THE FALCON STOOPS

It was the marriage day of Margaret and Peter. Clad in white armour thathad been sent to him as a present from the queen, a sign and a token ofher good wishes for his success in his combat with Morella, wearing theinsignia of a Knight of St. James hanging by a ribbon from his neck, hisshield emblazoned with his coat of the stooping falcon, which appearedalso upon the white cloak that hung from his shoulders, behind him asquire of high degree, who carried his plumed casque and lance, andaccompanied by an escort of the royal guards, Peter rode from hisquarters in the prison to the palace gates, and waited there as he hadbeen bidden. Presently they opened, and through them, seated on apalfrey, appeared Margaret, wonderfully attired in white and silver, butwith her veil lifted so that her face could be seen. She was companionedby a troop of maidens mounted, all of them, on white horses, and at herside, almost outshining her in glory of apparel, and attended by all herhousehold, rode Betty, Marchioness of Morella--at any rate for thatpresent time. 

Although she could never be less than beautiful, it was a worn and paleMargaret who bowed her greetings to the bridegroom without those palacegates. What wonder, since she knew that within a few hours his lifemust be set upon the hazard of a desperate fray. What wonder, since sheknew that to-morrow her father was doomed to be burnt living upon theQuemadero. 

They met, they greeted; then, with silver trumpets blowing before them, the glittering procession wound its way through the narrow streets ofSeville. But few words passed between them, whose hearts were too fullfor words, who had said all they had to say, and now abided the issue ofevents. Betty, however, whom many of the populace took for the bride, because her air was so much the happier of the two, would not be silent. Indeed she chid Margaret for her lack of gaiety upon such an occasion. 

"Oh, Betty!--Betty!" answered Margaret, "how can I be gay, upon whoseheart lies the burden of to-morrow?"

"A pest upon the burden of to-morrow!" exclaimed Betty. "The burden ofto-day is enough for me, and that is not so bad to bear. Never shall wehave another such ride as this, with all the world staring at us, andevery woman in Seville envying us and our good looks and the favour ofthe queen. "

"I think it is you they stare at and envy, " said Margaret, glancing atthe splendid woman at her side, whose beauty she knew well over-shadowedher own rarer loveliness, at any rate in a street pageant, as in thesunshine the rose overshadows the lily. 

"Well, " answered Betty, "if so, it is because I put the better face onthings, and smile even if my heart bleeds. At least, your lot is morehopeful than mine. If your husband has to fight to the death presently, so has mine, and between ourselves I favour Peter's chances. He is avery stubborn fighter, Peter, and wonderfully strong--too stubborn andstrong for any Spaniard. "

"Well, that is as it should be, " said Margaret, smiling faintly, "seeingthat Peter is your champion, and if he loses, you are stamped as aserving-girl, and a woman of no character. "

"A serving-girl I was, or something not far different, " replied Betty ina reflective voice, "and my character is a matter between me and Heaven, though, after all, it might scrape through where others fail to pass. Sothese things do not trouble me over much. What troubles me is that if mychampion wins he kills my husband. "

"You don't want him to be killed then?" asked Margaret, glancing at her. 

"No, I think not, " answered Betty with a little shake in her voice, andturning her head aside for a moment. "I know he is a scoundrel, but, yousee, I always liked this scoundrel, just as you always hated him, so Icannot help wishing that he was going to meet some one who hits a littleless hard than Peter. Also, if he dies, without doubt his heirs willraise suits against me. "

"At any rate your father is not going to be burnt to-morrow, " saidMargaret to change the subject, which, to tell the truth, was anawkward one. 

"No, Cousin, if my father had his deserts, according to all accounts, although the lineage that I gave of him is true enough, doubtless he wasburnt long ago, and still goes on burning--in Purgatory, I mean--thoughGod knows I would never bring a faggot to his fire. But Master Castellwill not be burnt, so why fret about it. "

"What makes you say that?" asked Margaret, who had not confided thedetails of a certain plot to Betty. 

"I don't know, but I am sure that Peter will get him out somehow. He isa very good stick to lean on, Peter, although he seems so hard andstupid and silent, which, after all, is in the nature of sticks. Butlook, there is the cathedral--is it not a fine place?--and a great crowdof people waiting round the gate. Now smile, Cousin. Bow and smile asI do. "

They rode up to the great doors, where Peter, springing to the ground, assisted his bride from her palfrey. Then the procession formed, andthey entered the wonderful place, preceded by vergers with staves, andby acolytes. Margaret had never visited it before, and never saw itagain, but all her life the memory of it remained clear and vivid in hermind. The cold chill of the air within, the semi-darkness after theglare of the sunshine, the seven great naves, or aisles, stretchingendlessly to right and left, the dim and towering roof, the pillars thatsprang to it everywhere like huge forest trees aspiring to the skies, the solemn shadows pierced by lines of light from the high-cut windows, the golden glory of the altars, the sounds of chanting, the sepulchresof the dead--a sense of all these things rushed in upon her, overpowering her and stamping the picture of them for ever onher memory. 

Slowly they passed onward to the choir, and round it to the steps of thegreat altar of the chief chapel. Here, between the choir and the chapel, was gathered the congregation--no small one--and here, side by side tothe right and without the rails, in chairs of state, sat their Majestiesof Spain, who had chosen to grace this ceremony with their presence. More, as the bride came, the queen Isabella, as a special act of grace, rose from her seat and, bending forward, kissed her on the cheek, whilethe choir sang and the noble music rolled. It was a splendid spectacle, this marriage of hers, celebrated in perhaps the most glorious fane inEurope. But even as Margaret noted it and watched the bishops andpriests decked with glittering embroideries, summoned there to do herhonour, as they moved to and fro in the mysterious ceremonial of theMass, she bethought her of other rites equally glorious that would takeplace on the morrow in the greatest square of Seville, where these samedignitaries would condemn fellow human beings--perhaps among them herown father--to be married to the cruel flame. 

Side by side they knelt before the wondrous altar, while theincense-clouds from the censers floated up one by one till they werelost in the gloom above, as the smoke of to-morrow's sacrifice wouldlose itself in the heavens, she and her husband, won at last, won afterso many perils, perhaps to be lost again for ever before night fell uponthe world. The priests chanted, the gorgeous bishop bowed over them andmuttered the marriage service of their faith, the ring was set upon herhand, the troths were plighted, the benediction spoken, and they wereman and wife till death should them part, that death which stood so nearto them in this hour of life fulfilled. Then they two, who already thatmorning had made confession of their sins, kneeling alone before thealtar, ate of the holy Bread, sealing a mystery with a mystery. 

All was done and over, and rising, they turned and stayed a moment handin hand while the sweet-voiced choir sang some wondrous chant. Margaret's eyes wandered over the congregation till presently theylighted upon the dark face of Morella, who stood apart a little way, surrounded by his squires and gentlemen, and watched her. More, he cameto her, and bowing low, whispered to her:

"We are players in a strange game, my lady Margaret, and what will beits end, I wonder? Shall I be dead to-night, or you a widow? Aye, andwhere was its beginning? Not here, I think. And where, oh where shallthis seed we sow bear fruit? Well, think as kindly of me as you can, since I loved you who love me not. "

And again bowing, first to her, then to Peter, he passed on, taking nonote of Betty, who stood near, considering him with her large eyes, asthough she also wondered what would be the end of all this play. 

Surrounded by their courtiers, the king and queen left the cathedral, and after them came the bridegroom and the bride. They mounted theirhorses and in the glory of the southern sunlight rode through thecheering crowd back to the palace and to the marriage feast, where theirtable was set but just below that of their Majesties. It was long andmagnificent; but little could they eat, and, save to pledge each otherin the ceremonial cup, no wine passed their lips. At length sometrumpets blew, and their Majesties rose, the king saying in his thin, clear voice that he would not bid his guests farewell, since veryshortly they would all meet again in another place, where the gallantbridegroom, a gentleman of England, would champion the cause of hisrelative and countrywoman against one of the first grandees of Spainwhom she alleged had done her wrong. That fray, alas! would be nopleasure joust, but to the death, for the feud between these knights wasdeep and bitter, and such were the conditions of their combat. He couldnot wish success to the one or to the other; but of this he was sure, that in all Seville there was no heart that would not give equal honourto the conqueror and the conquered, sure also that both would bearthemselves as became brave knights of Spain and England. 

Then the trumpets blew again, and the squires and gentlemen who werechosen to attend him came bowing to Peter, and saying that it was timefor him to arm. Bride and bridegroom rose and, while all the spectatorsfell back out of hearing, but watching them with curious eyes, spokesome few words together. 

"We part, " said Peter, "and I know not what to say. "

"Say nothing, husband, " she answered him, "lest your words should weakenme. Go now, and bear you bravely, as you will for your own honour andthat of England, and for mine. Dead or living you are my darling, anddead or living we shall meet once more and be at rest for aye. Myprayers be with you, Sir Peter, my prayers and my eternal love, and maythey bring strength to your arm and comfort to your heart. "

Then she, who would not embrace him before all those folk, curtseyedtill her knee almost touched the ground, while low he bent before her, astrange and stately parting, or so thought that company; and taking thehand of Betty, Margaret left him. 

 * * * * *

Two hours had gone by. The Plaza de Toros, for the great square wheretournaments were wont to be held was in the hands of those who preparedit for the _auto-da-fé_ of the morrow, was crowded as it had seldom beenbefore. This place was a huge amphitheatre--perchance the Romans builtit--where all sorts of games were celebrated, among them the baiting ofbulls as it was practised in those days, and other semi-savage sports. Twelve thousand people could sit upon the benches that rose tier upontier around the vast theatre, and scarce a seat was empty. The arenaitself, that was long enough for horses starting at either end of it tocome to their full speed, was strewn with white sand, as it may havebeen in the days when gladiators fought there. Over the main entranceand opposite to the centre of the ring were placed the king and queenwith their lords and ladies, and between them, but a little behind, herface hid by her bridal veil, sat Margaret, upright and silent as astatue. Exactly in front of them, on the further side of the ring in apavilion, and attended by her household, appeared Betty, glittering withgold and jewels, since she was the lady in whose cause, at least inname, this combat was to be fought _ā l'outrance. _ Quite unmoved shesat, and her presence seemed to draw every eye in that vast assemblywhich talked of her while it waited, with a sound like the sound of thesea as it murmurs on a beach at night. 

Now the trumpets blew, and silence fell, and then, preceded by heraldsin golden tabards, Carlos, Marquis of Morella, followed by his squires, rode into the ring through the great entrance. He bestrode a splendidblack horse, and was arrayed in coal-black armour, while from his casquerose black ostrich plumes. On his shield, however, painted in scarlet, appeared the eagle crowned with the coronet of his rank, and beneath, the proud motto--"What I seize I tear. " A splendid figure, he pressedhis horse into the centre of the arena, then causing it to wheel round, pawing the air with its forelegs, saluted their Majesties by raising hislong, steel-tipped lance, while the multitude greeted him with a shout. This done, he and his company rode away to their station at the northend of the ring. 

Again the trumpets sounded, and a herald appeared, while after him, mounted on a white horse, and clad in his white armour that glistened inthe sun, with white plumes rising from his casque, and on his shield thestooping falcon blazoned in gold with the motto of "For love and honour"beneath it, appeared the tall, grim shape of Sir Peter Brome. He, too, rode out into the centre of the arena, and, turning his horse quitesoberly, as though it were on a road, lifted his lance in salute. Nowthere was no cheering, for this knight was a foreigner, yet soldiers whowere there said to each other that he looked like one who would noteasily be overthrown. 

A third time the trumpets sounded, and the two champions, advancing fromtheir respective stations, drew rein side by side in front of theirMajesties, where the conditions of the combat were read aloud to them bythe chief herald. They were short. That the fray should be to the deathunless the king and queen willed otherwise and the victor consented;that it should be on horse or on foot, with lance or sword or dagger, but that no broken weapon might be replaced and no horse or armourchanged; that the victor should be escorted from the place of combatwith all honour, and allowed to depart whither he would, in the kingdomor out of it, and no suit or blood-feud raised against him; and that thebody of the fallen be handed over to his friends for burial, also withall honour. That the issue of this fray should in no way affect anycause pleaded in Courts ecclesiastical or civil, by the lady whoasserted herself to be the Marchioness of Morella, or by the most nobleMarquis of Morella, whom she claimed as her husband. 

These conditions having been read, the champions were asked if theyassented to them, whereon each of them answered, "Aye!" in a clearvoice. Then the herald, speaking on behalf of Sir Peter Brome, bycreation a knight of St. Iago and a Don of Spain, solemnly challengedthe noble Marquis of Morella to single combat to the death, in that he, the said marquis, had aspersed the name of his relative, the Englishlady, Elizabeth Dene, who claimed to be his wife, duly united to him inholy wedlock, and for sundry other causes and injuries worked towardshim, the said Sir Peter Brome, and his wife, Dame Margaret Brome, and intoken thereof, threw down a gauntlet, which gauntlet the Marquis ofMorella lifted upon the point of his lance and cast over his shoulder, thus accepting the challenge. 

Now the combatants dropped their visors, which heretofore had beenraised, and their squires, coming forward, examined the fastenings oftheir armour, their weapons, and the girths and bridles of theirhorses. These being pronounced sound and good, pursuivants took thesteeds by the bridles and led them to the far ends of the lists. At asignal from the king a single clarion blew, whereon the pursuivantsloosed their hold of the bridles and sprang back. Another clarion blew, and the knights gathered up their reins, settled their shields, and settheir lances in rest, bending forward over their horses' necks. 

An intense silence fell upon all the watching multitude as that of nightupon the sea, and in the midst of it the third clarion blew--to Margaretit sounded like the trump of doom. From twelve thousand throats onegreat sigh went up, like the sigh of wind upon the sea, and ere it diedaway, from either end of the arena, like arrows from the bow, likelevens from a cloud, the champions started forth, their stallionsgathering speed at every stride. Look, they met! Fair on each shieldstruck a lance, and backward reeled their holders. The keen pointsglanced aside or up, and the knights, recovering themselves, rushed pasteach other, shaken but unhurt. At the ends of the lists the squirescaught the horses by the bridles and turned them. The first coursewas run. 

Again the clarions blew, and again they started forward, and presentlyagain they met in mid career. As before, the lances struck upon theshields; but so fearful was the impact, that Peter's shivered, whilethat of Morella, sliding from the topmost rim of his foe's buckler, gothold in his visor bars. Back went Peter beneath the blow, back and stillback, till almost he lay upon his horse's crupper. Then, when it seemedthat he must fall, the lacings of his helm burst. It was torn from hishead, and Morella passed on bearing it transfixed upon his spear point. 

"The Falcon falls, " screamed the spectators; "he is unhorsed. "

But Peter was not unhorsed. Freed from that awful pressure, he let dropthe shattered shaft and, grasping at his saddle strap, dragged himselfback into the selle. Morella tried to stay his charger, that he mightcome about and fall upon the Englishman before he could recover himself;but the brute was heady, and would not be turned till he saw the wall offaces in front of him. Now they were round, both of them, but Peter hadno spear and no helm, while the lance of Morella was cumbered with hisadversary's casque that he strove to shake free from it, but in vain. 

"Draw your sword, " shouted voices to Peter--the English voices of Smithand his sailors--and he put his hand down to do so, then bethought himof some other counsel, for he let it lie within its scabbard, and, spurring the white horse, came at Morella like a storm. 

"The Falcon will be spiked, " they screamed. "The Eagle wins!--the Eaglewins!" And indeed it seemed that it must be so. Straight at Peter'sundefended face drove Morella's lance, but lo! as it came he let fallhis reins and with his shield he struck at the white plumes about itspoint, the plumes torn from his own head. He had judged well, for upflew those plumes, a little, a very little, yet far enough to give himspace, crouching on his saddle-bow, to pass beneath the deadly spear. Then, as they swept past each other, out shot that long, right arm ofhis and, gripping Morella like a hook of steel, tore him from hissaddle, so that the black horse rushed forward riderless, and the whitesped on bearing a double burden. 

Grasping desperately, Morella threw his arms about his neck, andintertwined, black armour mixed with white, they swayed to and fro, while the frightened horse beneath rushed this way and that till, swerving suddenly, together they fell upon the sand, and for a momentlay there stunned. 

"Who conquers?" gasped the crowd; while others answered, "Both aresped!" And, leaning forward in her chair, Margaret tore off her veil andwatched with a face like the face of death. 

See! As they had fallen together, so together they stirred androse--rose unharmed. Now they sprang back, out flashed the long swords, and, while the squires caught the horses and, running in, seized thebroken spears, they faced each other. Having no helm, Peter held hisbuckler above his head to shelter it, and, ever calm, awaited theonslaught. 

At him came Morella, and with a light, grating sound his sword fell uponthe steel. Before he could recover himself Peter struck back; butMorella bent his knees, and the stroke only shore the black plumes fromhis casque. Quick as light he drove at Peter's face with his point; butthe Englishman leapt to one side, and the thrust went past him. AgainMorella came at him, and struck so mighty a blow that, although Petercaught it on his buckler, it sliced through the edge of it and fell uponhis unprotected neck and shoulder, wounding him, for now red bloodshowed on the white armour, and Peter reeled back beneath the stroke. 

"The Eagle wins!--the Eagle wins! Spain and the Eagle" shouted tenthousand throats. In the momentary silence that followed, a singlevoice, a clear woman's voice, which even then Margaret knew for that ofInez, cried from among the crowd:

"Nay, the Falcon stoops!"

Before the sound of her words died away, maddened it would seem, by thepain of his wound, or the fear of defeat, Peter shouted out his war-cryof _"A Brome! A Brome"_! and, gathering himself together, sprangstraight at Morella as springs a starving wolf. The blue steel flickeredin the sunlight, then down it fell, and lo! half the Spaniard's helm layon the sand, while it was Morella's turn to reel backward--and more, ashe did so, he let fall his shield. 

"A stroke!--a good stroke!" roared the crowd. "The Falcon!--the Falcon!"

Peter saw that fallen shield, and whether for chivalry's sake, asthought the cheering multitude, or to free his left arm, he cast awayhis own, and grasping the sword with both hands rushed on the Spaniard. From that moment, helmless though he was, the issue lay in doubt nolonger. Betty had spoken of Peter as a stubborn swordsman and a hardhitter, and both of these he now showed himself to be. As fresh to allappearance as when he ran the first course, he rained blow after blowupon the hapless Spaniard, till the sound of his sword smiting on thegood Toledo steel was like the sound of a hammer falling continually onthe smith's red iron. They were fearful blows, yet still the tough steelheld, and still Morella, doing what he might, staggered back beneaththem, till at length he came in front of the tribune, in which sat theirMajesties and Margaret. Out of the corner of his eye Peter saw theplace, and determined in his stout heart that then and there he wouldend the thing. Parrying a cut which the desperate Spaniard made at hishead, he thrust at him so heavily that his blade bent like a bow, and, although he could not pierce the black mail, almost lifted Morella fromhis feet. Then, as he reeled backwards, Peter whirled his sword on high, and, shouting "_Margaret!_" struck downwards with all his strength. Itfell as lightning falls, swift, keen, dazzling the eyes of all whowatched. Morella raised his arm to break the blow. In vain! The weaponthat he held was shattered, the casque beneath was cloven, and, throwinghis arms wide, he fell heavily to the ground and lay theremoving feebly. 

For an instant there was silence, and in it a shrill woman's voice thatcried:

"The Falcon has stooped. The English hawk _has stooped!_"

Then there arose a tumult of shouting. "He is dead!" "Nay, he stirs. ""Kill him!" "Spare him; he fought well!"

Peter leaned upon his sword, looking at the fallen foe. Then he glancedupwards at their Majesties, but these sat silent, making no sign, onlyhe saw Margaret try to rise from her seat and speak, to be pulled backto it again by the hands of women. A deep hush fell upon the watchingthousands who waited for the end. Peter looked at Morella. Alas! hestill lived, his sword and the stout helmet had broken the weight ofthat stroke, mighty though it had been. The man was but wounded in threeplaces and stunned. "What must I do?" asked Peter in a hollow voice tothe royal pair above him. 

Now the king, who seemed moved, was about to speak; but the queen bentforward and whispered something to him, and he remained silent. Theyboth were silent. All the intent multitude was silent. Knowing what thisdreadful silence meant, Peter cast down his sword and drew his dagger, wherewith to cut the lashings of Morella's gorget and give the _coupde grâce_. 

Just then it was that for the first time he heard a sound, far away uponthe other side of the arena, and, looking thither, saw the strangestsight that ever his eyes beheld. Over the railing of the pavilionopposite to him a woman climbed nimbly as a cat, and from it, like acat, dropped to the ground full ten feet below, then, gathering up herdress about her knees, ran swiftly towards him. It was Betty! Bettywithout a doubt! Betty in her gorgeous garb, with pearls and braidedhair flying loose behind her. He stared amazed. All stared amazed, andin half a minute she was on them, and, standing over the fallen Morella, gasped out:

"Let him be! I bid you let him be. "

Peter knew not what to do or say, so advanced to speak with her, whereonwith a swoop like that of a swallow she pounced upon his sword that layin the sand and, leaping back to Morella, shook it on high, shouting:

"You will have to fight me first, Peter. "

Indeed, she did more, striking at him so shrewdly with his own swordthat he was forced to spring sideways to avoid the stroke. Now a greatroar of laughter went up to heaven. Yes, even Peter laughed, for nosuch thing as this had ever before been seen in Spain. It died away, andagain Betty, who had no low voice, shouted in her villainous Spanish:

"He shall kill me before he kills my husband. Give me my husband!"

"Take him, for my part, " answered Peter, whereon, letting fall thesword, Betty, filled with the strength of despair, lifted the senselessSpaniard in her strong white arms as though he were a child, and hisbleeding head lying on her shoulder, strove to carry him away, butcould not. 

Then, while all that audience cheered frantically, Peter with a gestureof despair threw down his dagger and once more appealed to theirMajesties. The king rose and held up his hand, at the same timemotioning to Morella's squires to take him from the woman, which, seeingtheir cognizance, Betty allowed them to do. 

"Marchioness of Morella, " said the king, for the first time giving herthat title, "your honour is cleared, your champion has conquered, andthis fierce fray was to the death. What have you to say?"

"Nothing, " answered Betty, "except that I love the man, though he hastreated me and others ill, and, as I knew he would if he crossed swordswith Peter, has got his deserts for his deeds. I say I love him, and ifPeter wishes to kill him, he must kill me first. "

"Sir Peter Brome, " said the king, "the judgment lies in your hand. Wegive you the man's life, to grant or to take. "

Peter thought a while, then answered:

"I grant him his life if he will acknowledge this lady to be his trueand lawful wife, and live with her as such, now and for ever, stayingall suits against her. "

"How can he do that, you fool, " asked Betty, "when you have knocked allhis senses out of him with that great sword of yours?"

"Perhaps, " suggested Peter humbly, "some one will do it for him. "

"Yes, " said Isabella, speaking for the first time, "I will. On behalf ofthe Marquis of Morella I promise these things, Don Peter Brome, beforeall these people here gathered. I add this: that if he should live, andit pleases him to break this promise made on his behalf to save him fromdeath, then let his name be shamed, yes, let it become a byword and ascorn. Proclaim it, heralds. "

So the heralds blew their trumpets and one of them called out thequeen's decree, whereat the spectators cheered again, shouting that itwas good, and they bore witness to that promise. 

Then Morella, still senseless, was borne away by his squires, Betty inher blood-stained robe marching at his side, and his horse having beenbrought to him again, Peter, wounded though he was, mounted and gallopedround the arena amidst plaudits such as that place had never heard, till, lifting his sword in salutation, suddenly he and his gentlemenvanished by the gate through which he had appeared. 

Thus strangely enough ended that combat which thereafter was alwaysknown as the Fray of the Eagle and the English Hawk. 

CHAPTER XXV

HOW THE _MARGARET_ WON OUT TO SEA

It was night. Peter, faint with loss of blood and stiff with bruises, had bade his farewell to their Majesties of Spain, who spoke many softwords to him, calling him the Flower of Knighthood, and offering himhigh place and rank if he would abide in their service. But he thankedthem and said No, for in Spain he had suffered too much to dwell there. So they kissed his bride, the fair Margaret, who clung to her woundedhusband like ivy to an oak, and would not be separated from him, evenfor a moment, that husband whom living she had scarcely hoped to claspagain. Yes, they kissed her, and the queen threw about her a chain fromher own neck as a parting gift, and wished her joy of so gallant a lord. 

"Alas! your Majesty, " said Margaret, her dark eyes filling with tears, "how can I be joyous, who must think of to-morrow?"

Thereon Isabella set her face and answered:

"Dona Margaret Brome, be thankful for what to-day has brought you, andforget to-morrow and that which it must justly take away. Go now, andGod be with you both!"

So they went, the little knot of English sailormen, who, wrapped inSpanish cloaks, had sat together in the amphitheatre and groaned whenthe Eagle struck, and cheered when the Falcon swooped, leading, orrather carrying Peter under cover of the falling night to a boat not farfrom this Place of Bulls. In this they embarked unobserved, for themultitude, and even Peter's own squires believed that he had returnedwith his wife to the palace, as he had given out that he would do. Sothey were rowed to the _Margaret_, which straightway made as though shewere about to sail, and indeed dropped a little way down stream. Hereshe anchored again, just round a bend of the river, and lay there forthe night. 

It was a heavy night, and in it there was no place for love or lovers'tenderness. How could there be between these two, who for so long hadbeen tormented by doubts and fears, and on this day had endured suchextremity of terror and such agony of joy? Peter's wound also was deepand wide, though his shield had broken the weight of Morella's sword, and its edge had caught upon his shoulder-piece, so that by good chanceit had not reached down to the arteries, or shorn into the bone; yet hehad lost much blood, and Smith, the captain, who was a better surgeonthan might have been guessed from his thick hands, found it needful towash out the cut with spirit that gave much pain, and to stitch it upwith silk. Also Peter had great bruises on his arms and thighs, and hisback was hurt by that fall from the white charger with Morella inhis arms. 

So it came about that most of that night he lay outworn, half-sleepingand half-waking, and when at sunrise he struggled from his berth, it wasbut to kneel by the side of Margaret and join her in her prayers thather father might be rescued from the hands of these cruel priestsof Spain. 

Now during the night Smith had brought his ship back with the tide, andlaid her under the shelter of those hulks whereof Peter had spoken, having first painted out her name of _Margaret_, and in its place setthat of the _Santa Maria_, a vessel of about the same build and tonnage, which, as they had heard, was expected in port. For this reason, orbecause there were at that time many ships in the river, it happenedthat none in authority noted her return, or if they did, neglected toreport the matter as one of no moment. Therefore, so far all went well. 

According to the tale of Henriques, confirmed by what they had learnedotherwise, the great procession of the Act of Faith would turn on to thequay at about eight o'clock, and pass along it for a hundred yards or soonly, before it wound away down a street leading to the _plaza_ wherethe theatre was prepared, the sermon would be preached, the Masscelebrated, and the "relaxed" placed in cages to be carried to theQuemadero. 

At six in the morning Smith mustered those twelve men whom he had chosento help him in the enterprise, and Peter, with Margaret at his side, addressed them in the cabin, telling them all the plan, and praying themfor the sake of their master and of the Lady Margaret, his daughter, todo what men might to save one whom they loved and honoured from sohorrible a death. 

They swore that they would, every one of them, for their English bloodwas up, nor did they so much as speak of the great rewards that had beenpromised to those who lived through this adventure, and to the familiesof those who fell. Then they breakfasted, girded their swords and knivesabout them, and put on their Spanish cloaks, though, to speak truth, these lads of Essex and of London made but poor Spaniards. Now, atlength the boat was ready, and Peter, although he could scarcely stand, desired to be carried into it that he might accompany them. But thecaptain, Smith, to whom perhaps Margaret had been speaking, set down hisflat foot on the deck and said that he, who commanded there, wouldsuffer no such thing. A wounded man, he declared, would but cumber themwho had little room to spare in that small boat, and could be of noservice, either on land or water. Moreover, Master Peter's face wasknown to thousands who had watched it yesterday, and would certainly berecognised, whereas none would take note at such a time of a dozencommon sailors landed from some ship to see the show. Lastly, he woulddo best to stop on board the vessel, where, if anything went wrong, theymust be short-handed enough, who, if they could, ought to get her awayto sea and across it with all speed. 

Still Peter would have gone, till Margaret, throwing her arms about him, asked him if he thought that she would be the better if she lost bothher father and her husband, as, if things miscarried, well might happen. Then, being in pain and very weak, he yielded, and Smith, having givenhis last directions to the mate, and shaken Peter and Margaret by thehand, asking their prayers for all of them, descended with his twelvemen into the boat, and dropping down under shelter of the hulks, rowedto the shore as though they came from some other vessel. Now the quaywas not more than a bowshot from them, and from a certain spot upon the_Margaret_ there was a good view of it between the stern of one hulk andthe bow of another. Here, then, Peter and Margaret sat themselves downbehind the bulwark, and watched with fears such as cannot be told, whilea sharp-eyed seaman climbed to the crow's-nest on the mast, whence hecould see over much of the city, and even the old Moorish castle thatwas then the Holy House of the Inquisition. Presently this man reportedthat the procession had started, for he saw its banners and the peoplecrowding to the windows and to the roof-tops; also the cathedral bellbegan to toll slowly. Then came a long, long wait, during which theirlittle knot of sailors, wearing the Spanish cloaks, appeared upon thequay and mingled with the few folk that were gathered there, since themost of the people were collected by thousands on the great _plaza_ orin the adjacent streets. 

At length, just as the cathedral clock struck eight, the "triumphant"march, as it was called, began to appear upon the quay. First came abody of soldiers with lances; then a crucifix, borne by a priest andveiled in black crape; then a number of other priests, clad insnow-white robes to symbolise their perfect purity. Next followed mencarrying wood or leather images of some man or woman who, by flight to aforeign land or into the realms of Death, had escaped the clutches ofthe Inquisition. After these marched other men in fours, each four ofthem bearing a coffin that contained the body or bones of some deadheretic, which, in the absence of his living person, like the effigies, were to be committed to the flames as a token of what the Inquisitionwould have done to him if it could--to enable it also to seizehis property. 

Then came many penitents, their heads shaven, their feet bare, and clad, some in dark-coloured cloaks, some in yellow robes, called the_sanbenito_, which were adorned with a red cross. These were followed bya melancholy band of "relaxed" heretics, doomed to the fire orstrangulation at the stake, and clothed in _zamarras_ of sheepskin, painted all over with devils and the portraits of their own facessurrounded by flames. These poor creatures wore also flame-adorned capscalled _corozas_, shaped like bishops' mitres, and were gagged withblocks of wood, lest they should contaminate the populace by somedeclaration of their heresy, while in their hands they bore tapers, which the monks who accompanied them relighted from time to time if theybecame extinguished. 

Now the hearts of Peter and Margaret leaped within them, for at the endof this hideous troop rode a man mounted on an ass, clothed in a_zamarra_ and _coroza_, but with a noose about his neck. So the FrayHenriques had told the truth, for without doubt this was John Castell. Like people in a dream, they saw him advance in his garb of shame, andafter him, gorgeously attired, civil officers, inquisitors, andfamiliars of noble rank, members of the Council of Inquisition, behindwhom was borne a flaunting banner, called the Holy Standard ofthe Faith. 

Now Castell was opposite to the little group of seamen, and, or so itseemed, something went wrong with the harness of the ass on which hesat, for it stopped, and a man in the garb of a secretary stepped to it, apparently to attend to a strap, thus bringing all the processionbehind to a halt, while that in front proceeded off the quay and roundthe corner of a street. Whatever it might be that had happened, itnecessitated the dismounting of the heretic, who was pulled roughly offthe brute's back, which, as though in joy at this riddance of itsburden, lifted its head and brayed loudly. 

Men from the thin line of crowd that edged the quay came forward asthough to help, and among them were several in capes, such as were wornby the sailors of the _Margaret_. The officers and grandees behindshouted, "Forward!--forward!" whereon those attending to the ass hustledit and its rider a little nearer to the water's edge, while the guardsran back to explain what had happened. Then suddenly a confusion arose, of which it was impossible to distinguish the cause, and next instantMargaret and Peter, still gripping each other, saw the man who had beenseated on the ass being dragged rapidly down the steps of the quay, atthe foot of which lay the boat of the _Margaret_. 

The mate at the helm saw also, for he blew his whistle, a sign at whichthe anchor was slipped--there was no time to lift it--and men who werewaiting on the yards loosed the lashings of certain sails, so thatalmost immediately the ship began to move. 

Now they were fighting on the quay. The heretic was in the boat, andmost of the sailors; but others held back the crowd of priests and armedfamiliars who strove to get at him. One, a priest with a sword in hishand, slipped past them and tumbled into the boat also. At last all werein save a single man, who was attacked by three adversaries--John Smith, the captain. The oars were out, but his mates waited for him. He struckwith his sword, and some one fell. Then he turned to run. Two maskedfamiliars sprang at him, one landing on his back, one clinging to hisneck. With a desperate effort he cast himself into the water, draggingthem with him. One they saw no more, for Smith had stabbed him, theother floated up near the boat, which already was some yards from thequay, and a sailor battered him on the head with an oar, so thathe sank. 

Smith had vanished also, and they thought he must be drowned. Thesailors thought it too, for they began to give way, when suddenly agreat brown hand appeared and clasped the stern-sheets, while abull-voice roared:

"Row on, lads, I'm right enough. "

Row they did indeed, till the ashen oars bent like bows, only two ofthem seized the officer who had sprung into the boat and flung himscreaming into the river, where he struggled a while, for he could notswim, gripping at the air with his hands, then disappeared. The boat wasin mid-stream now, and shaping her course round the bow of the firsthulk beyond which the prow of the _Margaret_ began to appear, for thewind was fresh, and she gathered way every moment. 

"Let down the ladder, and make ready ropes, " shouted Peter. 

It was done, but not too soon, for next instant the boat was bumping ontheir side. The sailors in her caught the ropes and hung on, while thecaptain, Smith, half-drowned, clung to the stern-sheets, for the waterwashed over his head. 

"Save him first, " cried Peter. A man, running down the ladder, threw anoose to him, which Smith seized with one hand and by degrees workedbeneath his arms. Then they tackled on to it, and dragged him bodilyfrom the river to the deck, where he lay gasping and spitting out foamand water. By now the ship was travelling swiftly, so swiftly thatMargaret was in an agony of fear lest the boat should be towed underand sink. 

But these sailor men knew their trade. By degrees they let the boat dropback till her bow was abreast of the ladder. Then they helped Castellforward. He gripped its rungs, and eager hands gripped him. Up hestaggered, step by step, till at length his hideous, fiend-painted cap, his white face, whence the beard had been shaved, and his open mouth, inwhich still was fixed the wooden gag, appeared above the bulwarks, asthe mate said afterwards, like that of a devil escaped from hell. Theylifted him over, and he sank fainting in his daughter's arms. Then oneby one the sailors came up after him--none were missing, though two hadbeen wounded, and were covered with blood. No, none were missing--Godhad brought them, every one, safe back to the deck of the _Margaret_. 

Smith, the captain, spat up the last of his river water and called for acup of wine, which he drank; while Peter and Margaret drew the accursedgag from her father's mouth, and poured spirit down his throat. Shakingthe water from him like a great dog, but saying never a word, Smithrolled to the helm and took it from the mate, for the navigation of theriver was difficult, and none knew it so well as he. Now they wereabreast the famous Golden Tower, and a big gun was fired at them; butthe shot went wide. "Look!" said Margaret, pointing to horsemengalloping southwards along the river's bank. 

"Yes, " said Peter, "they go to warn the ports. God send that the windholds, for we must fight our way to sea. "

The wind did hold, indeed it blew ever more strongly from the north; butoh! that was a long, evil day. Hour after hour they sped forward downthe widening river; now past villages, where knots of people wavedweapons at them as they went; now by desolate marshes, plains, and banksclothed with pine. 

When they reached Bonanza the sun was low, and when they were off SanLucar it had begun to sink. Out into the wide river mouth, where thewhite waters tumbled on the narrow bar, rowed two great galleys to cutthem off, very swift galleys, which it seemed impossible to escape. 

Margaret and Castell were sent below, the crew went to quarters, andPeter crept stiffly aft to where the sturdy Smith stood at the helm, which he would suffer no other man to touch. Smith looked at the sky, helooked at the shore, and the safe, open sea beyond. Then he bade themhoist more sail, all that she could carry, and looked grimly at the twogalleys lurking like deerhounds in a pass, that hung on their oars inthe strait channel, with the tumbling breakers on either side, throughwhich no ship could sail. "What will you do?" asked Peter. "MasterPeter, " he answered between his teeth, "when you fought the Spaniardyesterday I did not ask you what _you_ were going to do. Hold yourtongue, and leave me to my own trade. "

The _Margaret_ was a swift ship, but never yet had she moved soswiftly. Behind her shrilled the gale, for now it was no less. Her stoutmasts bent like fishing poles, her rigging creaked and groaned beneaththe weight of the bellying canvas, her port bulwarks slipped alongalmost level with the water, so that Peter must lie down on the deck, for stand he could not, and watch it running by within three feetof him. 

The galleys drew up right across her path. Half a mile away they lay bowby bow, knowing well that no ship could pass the foaming shallows; laybow by bow, waiting to board and cut down this little English crew whenthe _Margaret_ shortened sail, as shorten sail she must. Smith yelled anorder to the mate, and presently, red in the setting sun, out burst theflag of England upon the mainmast top, a sight at which the sailorscheered. He shouted another order, and up ran the last jib, so that nowfrom time to time the port bulwarks dipped beneath the sea, and Peterfelt salt water stinging his sore back. 

Thus did the _Margaret_ shorten sail, and thus did she yield her to thegreat galleys of Spain. 

The captains of the galleys hung on. Was this foreigner mad, or ignorantof the river channel, they wondered, that he would sink with every soulthere upon the bar? They hung on, waiting for that leopard flag andthose bursting sails to come down; but they never stirred; only straightat them rushed the _Margaret_ like a bull. She was not two furlongsaway, and she held dead upon her course, till at last those galleys saw_that she would not sink alone_. Like a bull with shut eyes she helddead upon her furious course!

Confusion arose upon the Spanish ships, whistles were blown, menshouted, overseers ran down the planks flogging the slaves, lifted oarsshone red in the light of the dying sun as they beat the water wildly. The prows began to back and separate, five feet, ten feet, a dozen feetperhaps; then straight into that tiny streak of open water, like a stonefrom the hand of the slinger, like an arrow from a bow, rushed thewind-flung _Margaret_. 

What happened? Go ask it of the fishers of San Lucar and the pirates ofBonanza, where the tale has been told for generations. The great oarssnapped like reeds, the slaves were thrown in crushed and mangled heaps, the tall deck of the port galley was ripped out of her like rent paperby the stout yards of the stooping _Margaret_, the side of the starboardgalley rolled up like a shaving before a plane, and the _Margaret_rushed through. 

Smith, the captain, looked aft to where, ere they sank, the two greatships, like wounded swans, rolled and fluttered on the foaming bar. Thenhe put his helm about, called the carpenter, and asked what watershe made. 

"None, Sir, " he answered; "but she will want new tarring. It was oakagainst eggshells, and we had the speed. "

"Good!" said Smith, "shallows on either side; life or death, and Ithought I could make room. Send the mate to the helm. I'll havea sleep. "

Then the sun vanished beneath the roaring open sea, and, escaped fromall the power of Spain, the _Margaret_ turned her scarred and splinteredbow for Ushant and for England. 

ENVOI

Ten years had gone by since Captain Smith took the good ship _Margaret_across the bar of the Guadalquiver in a very notable fashion. It waslate May in Essex, and all the woods were green, and all the birds sang, and all the meadows were bright with flowers. Down in the lovely vale ofDedham there was a long, low house with many gables--a charming oldhouse of red brick and timbers already black with age. It stood upon alittle hill, backed with woods, and from it a long avenue of ancientoaks ran across the park to the road which led to Colchester and London. Down that avenue on this May afternoon an aged, white-haired man, withquick black eyes, was walking, and with him three children--verybeautiful children--a boy of about nine and two little girls, who clungto his hand and garments and pestered him with questions. 

"Where are we going, Grandfather?" asked one little girl. 

"To see Captain Smith, my dear, " he answered. 

"I don't like Captain Smith, " said the other little girl; "he is so fat, and says nothing. "

"I do, " broke in the boy, "he gave me a fine knife to use when I am asailor, and Mother does, and Father, yes, and Grandad too, because hesaved him when the cruel Spaniards wanted to put him in the fire. Don'tyou, Grandad?"

"Yes, my dear, " answered the old man. "Look! there is a squirrelrunning over the grass; see if you can catch it before it reachesthat tree. "

Off went the children at full pelt, and the tree being a low one, beganto climb it after the squirrel. Meanwhile John Castell, for it was he, turned through the park gate and walked to a little house by theroadside, where a stout man sat upon a bench contemplating nothing inparticular. Evidently he expected his visitor, for he pointed to theplace beside him, and, as Castell sat down, said:

"Why didn't you come yesterday, Master?"

"Because of my rheumatism, friend, " he answered. "I got it first in thevaults of that accursed Holy House at Seville, and it grows on me yearby year. They were very damp and cold, those vaults, " he addedreflectively. 

"Many people found them hot enough, " grunted Smith, "also, there wasgenerally a good fire at the end of them. Strange thing that we shouldnever have heard any more of that business. I suppose it was because ourMargaret was such a favourite with Queen Isabella who didn't want toraise questions with England, or stir up dirty water. "

"Perhaps, " answered Castell. "The water _was_ dirty, wasn't it?"

"Dirty as a Thames mud-bank at low tide. Clever woman, Isabella. No oneelse would have thought of making a man ridiculous as she did by Morellawhen she gave his life to Betty, and promised and vowed on his behalfthat he would acknowledge her as his lady. No fear of any trouble fromhim after that, in the way of plots for the Crown, or things of thatsort. Why, he must have been the laughing-stock of the whole land--anda laughing-stock never does anything. You remember the Spanish saying, 'King's swords cut and priests' fires burn, but street-songs killquickest!' I should like to learn more of what has become of them all, though, wouldn't you, Master? Except Bernaldez, of course, for he's beensafe in Paris these many years, and doing well there, they say. "

"Yes, " answered Castell, with a little smile--"that is, unless I had togo to Spain to find out. "

Just then the three children came running up, bursting through the gateall together. 

"Mind my flower-bed, you little rogues, " shouted Captain Smith, shakinghis stick at them, whereat they got behind him and made faces. 

"Where's the squirrel, Peter?" asked Castell. 

"We hunted it out of the tree, Grandad, and right across the grass, andgot round it by the edge of the brook, and then--"

"Then what? Did you catch it?"

"No, Grandad, for when we thought we had it sure, it jumped into thewater and swam away. "

"Other people in a fix have done that before, " said Castell, laughing, and bethinking him of a certain river quay. 

"It wasn't fair, " cried the boy indignantly. "Squirrels shouldn't swim, and if I can catch it I will put it in a cage. "

"I think that squirrel will stop in the woods for the rest of its life, Peter. "

"Grandad!--Grandad!" called out the youngest child from the gate, whither she had wandered, being weary of the tale of the squirrel, "there are a lot of people coming down the road on horses, such finepeople. Come and see. "

This news excited the curiosity of the old gentlemen, for not many finepeople came to Dedham. At any rate both of them rose, somewhat stiffly, and walked to the gate to look. Yes, the child was right, for there, sure enough, about two hundred yards away, advanced an imposingcavalcade. In front of it, mounted on a fine horse, sat a still finerlady, a very large and handsome lady, dressed in black silks, andwearing a black lace veil that hung from her head. At her side wasanother lady, much muffled up as though she found the climate cold, andriding between them, on a pony, a gallant looking little boy. Afterthese came servants, male and female, six or eight of them, and last ofall a great wain, laden with baggage, drawn by four big Flemish horses. 

"Now, whom have we here?" ejaculated Castell, staring at them. 

Captain Smith stared too, and sniffed at the wind as he had often doneupon his deck on a foggy morning. 

"I seem to smell Spaniards, " he said, "which is a smell I don't like. Look at their rigging. Now, Master Castell, of whom does that barquewith all her sails set remind you?"

Castell shook his head doubtfully. 

"I seem to remember, " went on Smith, "a great girl decked out like amaypole running across white sand in that Place of Bulls at Seville--butI forgot, you weren't there, were you?"

Now a loud, ringing voice was heard speaking in Spanish, and commandingsome one to go to yonder house and inquire where was the gate to theOld Hall. Then Castell knew at once. 

"It is Betty, " he said. "By the beard of Abraham, it is Betty. "

"I think so too; but don't talk of Abraham, Master. He is a dangerousman, Abraham, in these very Christian lands; say, 'By the Keys of St. Peter, ' or, 'By St. Paul's infirmities. '"

"Child, " broke in Castell, turning to one of the little girls, "run upto the Hall and tell your father and mother that Betty has come, andbrought half Spain with her. Quickly now, and remember thename, _Betty!_"

The child departed, wondering, by the back way; while Castell and Smithwalked towards the strangers. 

"Can we assist you, Seņora?" asked the former in Spanish. 

"Marchioness of Morella, _if_ you please--" she began in the samelanguage, then suddenly added in English, "Why, bless my eyes! If itisn't my old master, John Castell, with white wool instead of black!"

"It came white after my shaving by a sainted barber in the Holy House, "said Castell. "But come off that tall horse of yours, Betty, my dear--Ibeg your pardon--most noble and highly born Marchioness of Morella, andgive me a kiss. "

"That I will, twenty, if you like, " she answered, arriving in his armsso suddenly from on high, that had it not been for the sturdy support ofSmith behind, they would both of them have rolled upon the ground. 

"Whose are those children?" she asked, when she had kissed Castell andshaken Smith by the hand. "But no need to ask, they have got my cousinMargaret's eyes and Peter's long nose. How are they?" she addedanxiously. 

"You will see for yourself in a minute or two. Come, send on your peopleand baggage to the Hall, though where they will stow them all I don'tknow, and walk with us. "

Betty hesitated, for she had been calculating upon the effect of atriumphal entry in full state. But at that moment there appearedMargaret and Peter themselves--Margaret, a beautiful matron with a childin her arms, running, and Peter, looking much as he had always been, spare, long of limb, stern but for the kindly eyes, striding awaybehind, and after him sundry servants and the little girl Margaret. 

Then there arose a veritable babel of tongues, punctuated by embracings;but in the end the retinue and the baggage were got off up the drive, followed by the children and the little Spanish-looking boy, with whomthey had already made friends, leaving only Betty and her closelymuffled-up attendant. This attendant Peter contemplated for a while, asthough there were something familiar to him in her general air. 

Apparently she observed his interest, for as though by accident shemoved some of the wrappings that hid her face, revealing a single softand lustrous eye and a few square inches of olive-coloured cheek. ThenPeter knew her at once. 

"How are you, Inez?" he said, stretching out his hand with a smile, forreally he was delighted to see her. 

"As well as a poor wanderer in a strange and very damp country can be, Don Peter, " she answered in her languorous voice, "and certainlysomewhat the better for seeing an old friend whom last she met in acertain baker's shop. Do you remember?"

"Remember!" answered Peter. "It is not a thing I am likely to forget. Inez, what became of Fray Henriques? I have heard severaldifferent stories. "

"One never can be sure, " she answered as she uncovered her smiling redlips; "there are so many dungeons in that old Moorish Holy House, andelsewhere, that it is impossible to keep count of their occupants, however good your information. All I know is that he got into troubleover that business, poor man. Suspicions arose about his conduct in theprocession which the captain here will recall, " and she pointed toSmith. "Also, it is very dangerous for men in such positions to visitJewish quarters and to write incautious letters--no, not the one youthink of; I kept faith--but others, afterwards, begging for it backagain, some of which miscarried. "

"Is he dead then?" asked Peter. 

"Worse, I think, " she answered--"a living death, the 'Punishment of theWall. '"

"Poor wretch!" said Peter, with a shudder. 

"Yes, " remarked Inez reflectively, "few doctors like their ownmedicine. "

"I say, Inez, " said Peter, nodding his head towards Betty, "that marquisisn't coming here, is he?"

"In the spirit, perhaps, Don Peter, not otherwise. "

"So he is really dead? What killed him?"

"Laughter, I think, or, rather, being laughed at. He got quite well ofthe hurts you gave him, and then, of course, he had to keep the queen'sgage, and take the most noble lady yonder, late Betty, as hismarchioness. He couldn't do less, after she beat you off him with yourown sword and nursed him back to life. But he never heard the last ofit. They made songs about him in the streets, and would ask him how hisgodmother, Isabella, was, because she had promised and vowed on hisbehalf; also, whether the marchioness had broken any lances for his sakelately, and so forth. "

"Poor man!" said Peter again, in tones of the deepest sympathy. "A cruelfate; I should have done better to kill him. "

"Much; but don't say so to the noble Betty, who thinks that he had avery happy married life under her protecting care. Really, he ate hisheart out till even I, who hated him, was sorry. Think of it! One of theproudest men in Spain, and the most gallant, a nephew of the king, apillar of the Church, his sovereigns' plenipotentiary to the Moors, andon secret matters--the common mock of the vulgar, yes, and of thegreat too!"

"The great! Which of them?"

"Nearly all, for the queen set the fashion--I wonder why she hated himso?" Inez added, looking shrewdly at Peter; then without waiting for ananswer, went on: "She did it very cleverly, by always making the most ofthe most honourable Betty in public, calling her near to her, talkingwith her, admiring her English beauty, and so forth, and what herMajesty did, everybody else did, until my exalted mistress nearly wentoff her head, so full was she of pride and glory. As for the marquis, hefell ill, and after the taking of Granada went to live there quietly. Betty went with him, for she was a good wife, and saved lots of money. She buried him a year ago, for he died slow, and gave him one of thefinest tombs in Spain--it isn't finished yet. That is all the story. Nowshe has brought her boy, the young marquis, to England for a year ortwo, for she has a very warm heart, and longed to see you all. Also, shethought she had better go away a while, for her son's sake. As for me, now that Morella is dead, I am head of the household--secretary, generalpurveyor of intelligence, and anything else you like at a good salary. "

"You are not married, I suppose?" asked Peter. 

"No, " Inez answered; "I saw so much of men when I was younger that Iseem to have had enough of them. Or perhaps, " she went on, fixing thatmild and lustrous eye upon him, "there was one of them whom I liked toowell to wish----"

She paused, for they had crossed the drawbridge and arrived opposite tothe Old Hall. The gorgeous Betty and the fair Margaret, accompanied bythe others, and talking rapidly, had passed through the wide doorwayinto its spacious vestibule. Inez looked after them, and perceived, standing like a guard at the foot of the open stair, that scarred suitof white armour and riven shield blazoned with the golden falcon, Isabella's gift, in which Peter had fought and conquered the Marquis ofMorella. Then she stepped back and contemplated the house critically. 

At each end of it rose a stone tower, built for the purposes of defence, and all around ran a deep moat. Within the circle of this moat, andsurrounded by poplars and ancient yews, on the south side of the Halllay a walled pleasaunce, or garden, of turf pierced by paths and plantedwith flowering hawthorns and other shrubs, and at the end of it, almosthidden in drooping willows, a stone basin of water. Looking at it, Inezsaw at once that so far as the circumstances of climate and situationwould allow, Peter, in the laying out of this place, had copied anotherin the far-off, southern city of Granada, even down to the details ofthe steps and seats. She turned to him and said innocently:

"Sir Peter, are you minded to walk with me in that garden this pleasantevening? I do not see any window in yonder tower. "

Peter turned red as the scar across his face, and laughed as heanswered:

"There may be one for all that. Get you into the house, dear Inez, fornone can be more welcome there; but I walk no more alone with youin gardens. "

THE END