Now the ambassador de Ayala broke in, claiming satisfaction for the killing of his man, for he was still very angry, and saying that if it were 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 give no offence to Ferdinand and Isabella. “You have done an ill day’s work, Peter Brome,” he said, “and one of which my attorney must consider. Meanwhile, you will be best in safe keeping,” 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 make more riots on your road thither?” “I will answer, your Grace,” said d’Aguilar quietly, “if this lady will permit that I escort her and her cousin home. Also,” he added in a low voice, “it seems to me that to hale him to a prison would be more like to breed a riot than to let him go.” Henry glanced round him at the great crowd who were gathered watching this scene, and saw something in their faces which caused him to agree with d’Aguilar. “So be it, Marquis,” he said. “I have your word, and that of Peter Brome, that he will be forthcoming if called upon. Let that dead man be laid 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 wish to speak with you ere we sleep.” CHAPTER II. JOHN CASTELL. When the king was gone, Peter turned to those men who had stood by him and thanked them very heartily. Then he said to Margaret: “Come, Cousin, that is over for this time, and you have had your wish and seen his Grace. Now, the sooner you are safe at home, the better I shall be pleased.” “Certainly,” she replied. “I have seen more than I desire to see again. But before we go let us thank this Spanish señor——” and she paused. “D’Aguilar, Lady, or at least that name will serve,” said the Spaniard in his cultured voice, bowing low before her, his eyes fixed all the while upon her beautiful face. “Señor d’Aguilar, I thank you, and so does my cousin, Peter Brome, whose life perhaps you saved—don’t you, Peter? Oh! and so will my father.” “Yes,” answered Peter somewhat sulkily, “I thank him very much; though as for my life, I trusted to my own arm and to those of my friends there. Good night, Sir.” “I fear, Señor,” answered d’Aguilar with a smile, “that we cannot part just yet. You forget, I have become bond for you, and must therefore accompany 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 this escort, Margaret interposed quickly.