Scarcely were the words out of his mouth, when a rap was heard at the door. A servant entered pale and trembling, to inform his master that two of the “friends of liberty” were at the door, and wished to speak to the Patron. Had a thunderbolt fallen at their feet, the whole party could not have stood more aghast. Of the object of their visit at twelve o’clock at night, there could be no mistake. The ladies threw themselves upon their father and wept aloud; protesting with tears and sobs that they should never tear him from them. “Thorne, Griffin, young gentlemen, you will defend my father, will you not? They shall tear us in pieces before they separate us,” sobbed Anita, franticly. The midshipmen, in their enthusiasm, drew their swords. Thorne produced two small pistols from a great-coat pocket; but Griffin,--he was the most collected of the whole. “Be cool, ladies; I will save your father. Thorne, give me your pistols. Servant, go to the door--say Mr Mendoza will be there in a moment--say he is putting on his cloak. Now, Mendoza, be a man--no time for acting the father or crying now. Ladies, one of you get me your father’s cloak and hat. Now, Mendoza, are you listening to me?” “I am.” “Well, then, come to the door with me--ask the gentlemen very politely what they want; of course they will invite you to accompany them to prison or somewhere or other--answer without hesitation you will be with them in one moment. This you will do with your cloak and hat on: give me then your cloak and hat--bid them advance;--I follow, with your cloak and hat on, as Don Luis Mendoza, and damn all consequences--pistols _versus_ knives,--hurrah!” “But, sir,” commenced Mendoza. “Not a word, sir, I have no family, and I would die to serve an honest man or bonny lassie: and, Thorne, you look after the ladies--never mind me, I have two pistols for their two knives.” The thing was arranged as quickly as this has been told. And away went Griffin followed by the “friends of liberty.” “Now, Mendoza, you must out at once,--it’s all Le Brun’s doings,--cut for your life,--cut,” said Thorne, “and run for my house. Ladies, this is no safe place for you--excuse me, will you honour my house. There is no time for ceremony, rather on with your cloaks. Young gentlemen, you’re escort--servant, your master’s pistols--Now then, ladies, are you ready?--Anita, my arm--friend, give Mariquita yours--you for the look-out, now heave a-head.” “Patricio,” cried Anita, “secure my father’s papers, and then look out for yourselves.” And the whole house was clear in less than ten minutes from the first rap at the door.