He was only just in time, for as he composed his limbs into a comfortable position, in the event of the strangers making a lengthy stay, two men entered. Roger looked at them from between his nearly-closed eyelids and saw that both were tall men, slender and dark, both wearing long black mustachios and closely trimmed beards. Roger happened to possess a slight knowledge of Spanish, and was thus able to gather the meaning of at least part of their conversation. With one accord they approached Roger's bunk and leaned over, looking at his face. "He sleeps," said the elder of the two men. "Well, let him sleep as long as he will," replied his companion sardonically, "for it is little enough sleep the young heretic will get when once he is delivered over to the Holy Inquisition." Roger shuddered. He had heard quite enough of the methods of that institution to understand the significance of the words. He longed to open his eyes and take more particular note than he had yet been able to do of the personality of his two visitors; but he withstood the temptation, and kept his eyes closed, listening hard to catch all he could of the ensuing conversation. "And what, Alvarez, are the captain's orders with regard to the boy?" said the elder man, whose name, it transpired, was de Soto. "Senor Don Guzman's orders," answered the other, "are that he is to be kept in this cabin until we have finally disposed of these three pestilent English ships; and when that is done, and we have captured them, he is to be locked up in the fore hold, with the other prisoners we shall take--if the rascals do not in this case fight to the death, as they often do. Then when we return to Cadiz they are all to be handed over to the Holy Inquisition." Roger felt the cold perspiration start in beads on his forehead. "Ah! It seems almost a pity," said de Soto, "that we should have plucked this lad from the sharks, only to hand him over to those other fiends of the Holy Office; for he is a handsome and stalwart lad, and those limbs of his were never meant to be seared with red-hot irons, and torn asunder on the rack!" "Hush, de Soto, my friend!" responded Alvarez; "let no man save myself hear you speak thus of the Holy Office, or thy limbs, of which thou art so proud, may perchance make acquaintance with the same torments as are reserved for this young heretic." "Thanks, Alvarez!" returned de Soto; "I should not have spoken thus before any other than thyself; but thou art my friend, I know. I can trust thee with my life; as, indeed, I am trusting thee in speaking thus freely of the so-called Holy Inquisition. Is it not so?"