It seemed he had good reason. The gentleman who went running out to fetch in the _ginetes_ from the barracks hard by little knew how nearly he ran on death. The dagger was out, a wicked blade, long and razor-edged; Joshua, guessing from the sound of turmoil within what evil fate had chanced, guessed also this flying gentleman's errand. To stab him where the neck joined the shoulder would be easy enough. Ay, and then what? Joshua put up his dagger, snatched so instinctively from its sheath. No way to get Sir Nicholas off, that. He bethought him that he had maybe let his mind jump at conclusions; drew further into the shadows, and waited. He saw the _ginetes_ come; they passed so close he might have touched one. They went into the house, and came out again soon with Sir Nicholas Beauvallet in their midst. "Ay, I beagled it out well enough," Joshua muttered. "Now what?" He saw Sir Nicholas walking briskly between his guards, heard him say something to the lieutenant, and laugh. "He goes fleering to death!" groaned Joshua. "Mocker, mocker! Will you not look your fate in the face and know yourself sped at last? But this is to tax idle circumstance." He pulled himself together. "Up, mother-wit! No time for mourning, this." He peered towards the open door of the house, where two lackeys stood talking excitedly together. "I see the first step of my way. Now to sound these hildings." He withdrew a little way, came out from the shadow of the wall, and went towards the Casa Noveli at a brisk trot. "What's here?" he cried out. "Guards at your place! Who was't? Strange doings!" He became the epitome of curiosity, and got his answer. "_Madre de Dios!_" one of the lackeys said. "They say it is the pirate, El Beauvallet!" "Jesu!" Joshua fell back, and crossed himself. "That fine gentleman? Do you make a jest of me? How should such a thing be, pray you?" The first man shook his head hopelessly; it was his companion who answered, as he prepared to go indoors. "Why, there's Admiral Perinat within, foaming like a mad dog." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "He it was cried out on the Chevalier." Joshua wanted no more. The lackeys went in, remembering their duties; Joshua went speeding towards the Puerta del Sol. He was in time; no guards had come yet to the Rising Sun to ransack his master's baggage. He slipped in at the back entrance, waited for a cook-maid's back to be turned, and so got him upstairs unseen. He did swift work there. Doublets, hose, boots, shirts were flung from the chest by the window, some of them stowed away pell-mell into a pack, the rest left to lie on the floor.