“Yes, Señora, with those few alterations the dress will be perfect. You shall have it back tonight without fail, and I can cut the others that you have been pleased to order from the same pattern. Oh! I thank you, Señora, you are too good to a poor girl, and,” in a whisper, “the Mother of God have you in her guard, and send that Peter has improved in his love making!” and, half hidden in garments, Inez bowed herself out of the room through the door which the governor had already opened. About nine o’clock on the following morning one of the jailers came to summon Margaret and her father to be led before the court. Margaret asked anxiously if the Señor Brome was coming too, but the man replied that he knew nothing of the Señor Brome, as he was in one of the cells for dangerous criminals, which he did not serve. So forth they went, dressed in their new clothes, which were as fine as money could buy, and in the latest Seville fashion, and were conducted to the courtyard. Here, to her joy, Margaret saw Peter waiting for them under guard, and dressed also in the Christian garments which they had begged might be supplied to him at their cost. She sprang to his side, none hindering her, and, forgetting her bashfulness, suffered him to embrace her before them all, asking him how he had fared since they were parted. “None too well,” answered Peter gloomily, “who did not know if we should ever meet again; also, my prison is underground, where but little light comes through a grating, and there are rats in it which will not let a man 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 and walk close beside me, but do not stare at me so hard. Is aught wrong with my dress?” “Nothing,” answered Peter. “I stare because you look so beautiful in it. Could you not have worn a veil? Doubtless there are more marquises about 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 in a man. Have you seen her also? No—well, she escaped from Granada as she planned, and Betty is married to the marquis.” “It will never hold good,” answered Peter shaking his head, “being but a trick, and I fear that she will pay for it, poor woman! Still, she gave us a start, though, so far as prisons go, I was better off in Granada than 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 Morella without being discovered. “That isn’t so wonderful,” said Peter, “since if they are painted up young women look very much alike in a half-lit room——” “Or garden?” suggested Margaret.